Hello, darlings! Let me premise this chapter by easing some worries that have been coming across in the reviews; THIS IS A FERBELLA FIC :) Ferb and Isabella. So do not fret! Every road has its bumps ad ruts, highs and lows. Besides, how fun would their improbable romance story be without complications?

Secondly, I have some bad news. This update came later because I'm having a couple health issues. What started as what was thought was an allergic reaction has turned into some possible nerve issues. I had to have some blood drawn, and in the wake of my two spinal surgeries, my body doesn't handle that well. I'm okay (if any of you were concerned XD). I was just too weak to even move (let alone type) for a while there. I should be fine, though. I have appointments to find out what's going on. Until then, onward!

Thanks to all of my reviewers! This time around, I'd especially like to thank my guests! I can't talk to you like I can the other reviewers, so I'll thank you now! You're support is highly appreciated!

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Phineas and Ferb.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX:

Ulterior

FERB

Two weeks. That's how long it'd been since Phineas first asked Isabella to go to lunch. Fourteen days worth of projects and 1,209,656 seconds that they'd been… I couldn't think of any other way to say it: boyfriend and girlfriend.

"Hey, Phineas…"

1,209,657.

"Hey, Ferb…"

1,209,658.

"What'cha doing?"

"Hey Isabella!" Phineas jumped up from his spot beside me, bounding over to our neighbor and hugging her. I kept my eyes down, forcing all of my will into my fingertips. Draw line here, jot measurements to side, focus.

"Hey, Ferb," she repeated, and I raised my hand in recognition. Erase smudge, create arc over top, focus.

"Don't mind him," my brother chirped, pulling our favorite girl with him to the base of our tree. "He's been pouring himself into blueprints as of late. I guess you never know when the inspiration bug will hit, huh?"

"Yeah… Of course," came her voice, shaky and uncertain. Come on, Bella, you can do better than that!

But then I remembered I couldn't let myself focus on her. It was too difficult, especially when we all made the discovery that Phineas wasn't as "bad at romance" as we all thought. He was a remarkable boyfriend, albeit awkward from time to time. But it wasn't even a bad awkward, like Irving. It was the cute kind of awkward. The, aw, let me just hug you, you adorable thing, you, kind of awkward.

Their relationship was perfect. Huzzah.

Make this line half a centimeter longer, account for extra weight, focus. Focus. Focus!

But her knee brushed against mine as she sat down… and I couldn't focus on the prints in front of me no matter how hard I tried. I finally looked up, and met blue eyes. We both looked away.

Damn, we were so bad at this! It had been a problem all week.

Phineas delved into a debate with himself over what we should do today.

It was incredible that he hadn't caught on to something being up, because Isabella and I were uncomfortable with each other to say the least. So many times these past two weeks, I'd had to leave a room because Phineas put an arm around her, or I had to come up with some excuse as to why I couldn't watch a movie with them—seeing them sitting together on the couch was more than I could bear.

My room had become one of my closest companions.

Knowing my brother, he probably thought I was giving him space to be with his girlfriend. He probably regaled me as the most considerate brother and best friend ever—not only by being an integral part of why they got together, but by letting them have time to themselves now. He probably thought I was being so selfless.

Maybe I would feel better if he knew that wasn't true, that I had my own venal reasons for being so withdrawn. I doubt he'd think I was such a great brother if he knew I was pining for his girlfriend.

Thicken this line, bang head on wall later, focus.

I failed.

I glanced back up at her, hoping for sure this time it wouldn't happen, but of course… I met blue. We both looked away again. This couldn't keep happening! It wasn't okay! Although, since it just happened, she probably wouldn't look back at me so quickly.

I looked back up at her, and—damn!

She burst into a fit of giggles. "Tag. You're it."

"Huh?" Phineas looked up from the array of blueprints sprawled before him. "What do you mean 'I'm it?'"

"Not you. Ferb."

Not you. Ferb. I loathed myself for how much I loved hearing her say that.

My brother's eyes fell on me, his head lilting quizzically.

What was Isabella thinking? Drawing attention to the fact that we kept looking at each other at the same time?! That wasn't okay. I wasn't supposed to be glancing at her in the first place! And her whole tag comment… sure it was friendly enough, but her laughter made my insides…

"I want a snack," I sighed, rolling up the paper I'd been working with before standing.

When I made it to the backdoor, I heard Phineas ask, "what did you mean by tag?"

Have fun answering that, Isabella.

I was inside before I heard her reply, but that was fine by me. This way I could stick with my imagination's answer; well you see, Phineas, I was trying to flirt with your brother. I'm sorry this won't work out. But of course that wouldn't be what she said, and it only made me hate myself more; Phineas didn't deserve that. He didn't deserve it at all.

Really, all of this was laughable. I didn't need to be so melodramatic. Phineas and Isabella were happy together, and that fact made me happy. Really, it did. I just… didn't want to witness it. Was that so wrong?

"Hey, sweetie," Mum said, and I jumped. I hadn't seen her when I came in. She was standing in the corner of the kitchen holding today's newspaper.

I responded with a half-salute, half-wave.

"Why aren't you with Phineas and Isabella?" she asked, and her tone was far more knowing than what I would have liked. Whatever; I established my story with Phineas and Isabella, and I was sticking to it.

I crossed to the fridge and pulled out a cheese stick, brandishing it as an answer.

"Ah, I see," she studied me over her newspaper, but I shifted my focus onto the cheese stick in my hands.

When we were kids, Phineas always used to think it was the funniest thing to peel back the plastic wrapper, then fold it up again and give it to Mum and Dad to open. He'd yell surprise! every time they found it was already open, then collapse on the floor laughing like he was the world's greatest prankster. And every time, Mum and Dad would go along with it, exclaiming they had no clue how he got them time and again.

No wonder he has such an active imagination now.

I took the first bite. Sadly, that and my brief reminiscence was the extent of the distraction it could provide.

"Curious how you came in for a snack so soon after you ate breakfast," my mum commented oh so casually—insert sarcasm here.

"Well, that is my answer."

"Uh huh. So are you having another growth spurt, then? I'd hoped we were done with those given how tall you are already."

"Must be." I took bite two, as small as possible, which I chewed slowly. Afterall, I was in no rush to go back outside.

"Are you sure that's the only reason? No alterior motives, there?"

"Your tone implies you already have something in mind."

"Well do you?"

"Alterior. Ulterior. Maybe neither, maybe both. Maybe I just wanted a cheese stick, Mum." Bite three.

"Okay, smarty pants, what's going on?"

"Nothing."

"Uh huh. Are you doing alright?"

"I'm fine." Maybe I should head back outside now…

"We all know that never means you're actually fine. In fact, 'I'm fine' is pretty much universal code for, 'I'm not fine.' How are you handling the two of them being together?"

Well. She stopped beating around the bush rather quickly.

"It's… wonderful to see them… so happy." I could do better than that, couldn't I?

Mum put down her paper. Oh no. "You know, Ferb, growing up, your father and I always worried about you." I stared at her. "You were so quiet. I knew you for three months before you even spoke a word to me, and that word was, please. And here was Phineas, so lively and all over the place. We were worried you—"

"Were living in Phineas' shadow; I get it. But I'm not!"

Mum stared at me.

"I wasn't going to say that, sweetheart." Oh. Well, then… "I was going to say we were worried you'd never come out of your shell when Phineas made it so you wouldn't have to."

"Isn't that pretty much the same thing?"

"No," she laughed. "Yours is a lot more negative. Anyway, you proved us wrong. You grew up to be a confident and engaging young man—albeit one of few words."

"Where are you going with this?"

"Honestly?" She paused in deliberation before admitting, "I'm not quite sure." I felt like face-palming. Then I remembered my whole premise for coming in here, and took the fourth bite.

I thought the conversation would end there, since she openly stated she didn't know what she was trying to say, but with our Mum, it was never that simple. She veered into a tangent. Or maybe this was her main point all along.

"I'm not picking sides here, but I do think Isabella is good for you."

I almost spewed cheese with how quickly I snapped, "No she isn't."

Mum raised her eyebrow at me skeptically.

"She's with Phineas," I elaborated. She had to stop giving me that knowing look; I couldn't take it. She had to understand. "She belongs with him, and they're… just awesome. She's happy, and he's happy, and…" I turned away from her, covering my eyes with my hand. "I should probably go."

"Oh no you don't, young man," with surprising quickness, Mum blocked my escape route. "I know you teenagers hate having these kinds of conversations—well, actually Candace was the opposite, talking about relationships way too much, but you know what I mean. Point is, I think it's good for you to talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about. Nothing is going on between Isabella and I!"

"The more you protest…"

"Mum!" I groaned, turning around, but of course the only other option was for me to go outside. Would Mum follow me? Was that in her nature? Oh god, it was. And she could. I didn't want to risk that.

"Sweetheart, look at us. We're talking right now. You yelled at me just a minute ago. Two months ago, you barely spoke three words to me a week, and now we're having a conversation."

I faltered. We... were talking. She was right; this was absolutely anomalous. "But that has nothing to do with Isabella."

"It has everything to do with Isabella."

It did?

"What… do you mean?"

"It's hard to explain, really," Mum hummed, her tone taking a turn for the serious. "Ever since she'd moved in with us, you've been… different. I don't quite want to say you're more confident, because you've always been confident. But… more purposeful. More vulnerable. More open."

I nodded my head with each adjective, but understanding was still beyond my reach.

"As a mother, it's been nice to see. I mean, you opened up to Candace. You've been talking to me. You've been connecting to other people in ways you never have before, and your relationship with Isabella is at the heart."

"I still don't…"

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. It's hard to put into words. I don't know. It's like… you've got a direction that's Ferb now. Not Phineas. Not Phineas and Ferb. But Ferb. For once, you were doing something for yourself. I don't want you to lose that. You deserve happiness just as much as Phineas."

My head was swarming with her words, floating along my neurological pathways and jolting each synapsis.

"But Isabella…"

"Would be foolish not to love you," she said. Then she added on quickly, "Or Phineas. I just don't want to see you give up on yourself—on what you want—because you sell yourself short over and over. Everyone does it to you. Except your brother." She gave me a gentle smile. "And the girl across the way."

"But… you're not picking sides," I reiterated, watching a sly smile spread across her lips.

"Nope. You're all my kids, and it goes against Mom Code to pick sides."

She must have seen the doubt on my face; afterall, I technically had a different mother. I was her stepson. That left a twinge of uncertainty, no matter how wonderful she was.

Mum put her hands on my shoulders.

"Ferb, I love each of you kids equally—regardless of whether you gave me stretch marks or not." She kissed my forehead. "If anything, it gives me a reason to love you just a smidge more."

With a wink, she ventured further into the house, leaving me alone with the half-eaten cheese stick I never wanted in the first place.

Huh.

Candace and Mum seemed to be telling me the exact same thing; I should make a stand for Isabella.

But… I just couldn't do that. How could they not see that I couldn't do that? How could they expect me to barge in on my little brother's happy relationship—with our mutual best friend, I might add—and split them up with the hopes of claiming the girl as my own?

It was wrong on so many levels. This whole situation was wrong on so many levels. Not just in the circumstances now, but everything below it. The ulterior, if you will.

I was never supposed to fall in love with Isabella. That was never part of the plan. She was always supposed to be in love with my oblivious but loveable brother, pining over him until he came around. Then they'd get together, and, with me as their trusty sidekick, we'd change the world—or some other fluffy crap to that like.

This was wrong because the supporting cast wasn't supposed to fall for the lead. I wasn't supposed to jump in, muddy the water, and confuse the lovely lady about her part. And now what; the audience wanted it this way? They applauded for more? This scene was never meant to play.

I was trying my hardest to stay out of the way, and their encouragement only made this harder. I already avoided my best friend and brother. I holed up in my room. I turned my back time and again. But it was what needed to be done!

Although… in actuality, they really weren't that bad. For the most part, our days passed as they had every summer for years—the same quotidian creation of invention, questioning of Perry's location, and strange phenomenon that cleared the day's activity away—despite the budding relationship. They weren't lovey dovey by any normal standards, but… I still couldn't bring myself to stick around them.

Maybe I was the one that changed.

Phineas met my eyes from the backyard and motioned for me to come back out. Next to him, Isabella picked at a blade of grass, unwilling to lose this little game of tag we were playing—at least, thinking of it that way was easier.

I grabbed my rolled-up blueprint off the counter, lifting it and pantomiming using a pencil. Then I pointed up; I'm going to go work on this upstairs. I lifted my hand in farewell, but Phineas' crestfallen face stopped me cold. Why did he have to give me that look? Wasn't this hard enough as it was?

He held his finger up in a one minute gesture, and said something quickly to Isabella. Her eyes grew wide, if only for a second, but as Phineas kept talking, she nodded.

Then she stood up. She started walking toward me. Just her. Alone. Walking toward me. Uh.

She opened the door and slid inside, closing it behind her. She didn't come any farther into the room. She just stood there, her hands behind her back, holding on to the door handle like a ship tethered to a dock.

I stared at her. It was the first time today that I really got a good look at her. She was wearing a swooping pink tank top and a pair of jean shorts, and she looked absolutely gorgeous… I hoped her boyfriend made sure to tell her that.

"We want you to come back outside," she said, her eyes drifting up to meet mine.

"Did Phineas tell you to say that?"

"Truthfully? Yes. But that doesn't mean it isn't universal. I want you to come back outside, too."

"Why did he send you in here to tell me?"

"Well, he figured you wouldn't listen to him. He thinks you're giving us space, but he always wants you around. I'm guessing he thought if you heard from me that we still wanted you around even though Phineas and I are… now that we… well, it'd be more convincing."

"That's an interesting theory."

Her eyes fell to her shoes again, though out of guilt, embarrassment, shyness, reluctance—whatever it was, I couldn't tell. I was expecting some smart remark or clever retort, but that's not what I got.

"I miss you, Ferb," she said quietly.

"I haven't gone anywhere," I countered, though we both know that wasn't exactly true.

She just watched me, her eyes pools of emotion I somehow couldn't read. After what felt like forever, she sighed. "The worst distances aren't physical."

For an insane second, I thought about Mum and Candace's words, their encouragement to make a stand for Isabella. I wanted her, and I figured there was a part of her that wanted me too.

But Phineas sat outside. Waiting for at least one of us to return.

I was quiet and so was she, and I realized she was waiting for my answer.

"Tell Phineas I'm sorry, but that I have a massive brainstorm I have to get on paper. He has those often; he'll understand."

"Ferb, how long are you going to avoid me?" Her voice had a new level of anguish in it, and she stepped forward. Her hand reached out to me, as if to take mine and pull me back outside, but we both recoiled like we'd come in contact with boiling water.

No touching. We… we couldn't touch each other. We never had time to really go over what we were to each other now, but that seemed like a pretty solid rule.

"I'm sorry," was all I could respond. My knuckles were turning white over my blueprints, but she didn't notice; her eyes never wavered from mine.

Without a word, she nodded. She didn't blink. She didn't even look like she was breathing. I turned around.

Exhale, walk forward, focus.

When I made it to the stairs, I heard the backdoor open, and when it closed, my eyes did too. I made it to my room and shut the door. The blinds were closed, and it was darker in here, but I didn't mind.

The blueprint I'd been working on was mangled in my clenched fist, and I tore it in half. The two scraps fell to the floor, but it wasn't good enough. Well, it felt good, but it wasn't enough. I shoved all my books from my desk, and the sound of sprawling pages was surprisingly soothing. But that was as far as my miniature tantrum went.

I grabbed a fresh blueprint sheet from the top drawer of my desk and fell to the floor beside my books.

Grab pencil, put to paper, focus.

Any second now, inspiration would come. Wonderful, distracting inspiration.

Block her out. Focus.

I began to draw.

R/R please!

Poor Ferb. Well, poor everybody. No explosion… yet. Or will there even be an explosion? Will Phineas find out on his own? Will Isabella tell him or not, because she doesn't want to hurt the sweetheart, but she clearly has fallen for Ferb.

Thanks for your patience. Although… really, my 'slow' updates are really quick compared to most people's stories XD I'm just a nut, I guess. Oh, and to clarify, alterior is when you claim something as a motive in the place of something else, like saying you're going to the store to buy bread, but you really just want to talk to the cute cashier. Ulterior is more of an underlying motive. It's harder to explain… like, you want to run a race to be healthy, which is a motive, but your ulterior (underlying) motive is because it raises money for breast cancer. If that doesn't make sense to you, feel free to look it up ^.^

I'm a loquacious sesquipedalian. My favorite word is floccinaucinihilipilification. But I try to not use too big of words in my writing XD

Sorry for taking so long here. Have an absolutely fabulous day!

~Lilly-Belle