Disclaimer: Character-wise, I don't own anything. Fluff-wise, I will take full credit for.

Chapter 8 – The Love

"But Mom! I don't want to go to school! I want to be free and ride ponies all day!"

"Well, mi hija, you have to go to school in order to get a good education! Don't you want that?"

"No! Just ponies!"

Vivian carried her five-year-old daughter through the front door of the school, coming to a stop at the front desk. "There is more to life than ponies, Isa. There's schools and work and boys-"

"Ewww! Boys are icky!"

Her mother rolled her eyes. "You say that now, Isa, but you'll change your mind when you're older." She set her daughter down as the receptionist walked up.

"Good morning. How are you doing today?"

"Very well, gracias!" Vivian answered. "I'm here to fill out the rest of the paperwork for Isabella Garcia-Shapiro's enrollment into the school."

"All right," the blonde woman said. "Let me scrounge that up for you, then we'll get started. Give me just one moment." She went off through a back door, presumably to print off the papers.

Isabella looked around the area, spotting the glass door leading to outside and the playground nearby. She tugged on the pant leg of her mother. "Mom, can I go play outside?" she asked, pointed to the door.

"Si, si, Isa, but just make sure to stay in my sight, OK?"

Nodding her assent, Isabella walked through the door, marveling at all of the slides and hangouts. It was certainly a departure from what she was used to in Mexico. The grounds were currently empty, since school would not be in session for another couple of weeks.

Well, almost empty.

A boy was at the nearest swing, playing with what appeared to be some sort of mechanical rocket. He was trying to fasten it to the bottom part of the swing to no avail. Her curiosity getting the better of her, she sauntered over to the kid, intrigued by his actions.

"Hey there!" he shouted, clearly noticing her before she had for him. Upon closer inspection, she could see that he had some sort of remote in his hands, preumably to tinker with the rocket. "You must be the new kid that Miss Cheryl told us about! My name's Phineas. What's yours?"

"Isabella."

"Isabella?" he repeated, rolling it off of his tongue. "That's a really pretty name."

She felt her cheeks start to get hot. "Thank you." This was a gentleman, if nothing else. She remembered the greeting that her abuela used to say upon meeting someone new. It helped, she had said, to break the ice.

"So...whatcha' doing?"

"I'm making only the most awesomest swing ever!" the red-haired boy replied. "It's going to be rocket-propelled so that it can get us really, really high! Once it's done, it will launch us over to that pillow over there." He pointed to the other side of the grounds, where Isabella could see a giant white mattress set up.

"Isn't that a little dangerous? My mommy told me that flying is definitely not suppose to be done by kids like us."

The boy looked up at her, grinning. "Well, yeah. But what's the harm in having a little fun?"

There was something about him that drew Phineas in to her. He wasn't like any of the other boys back in Mexico, where they ranged from downcast to nervous to inclusive. Phineas was about as far from that as possible. He was outgoing, carefree. This was not even including his vibrant redhair, a shade that Isabella had never seen before.

"Unfortunately," Phineas continued, "It seems like some of the wiring is off. So I don't think it's going to come together. Not today, anyway."

Isabella kneeled down to look at the rocket. "That's too bad."

"Oh well, I don't need it ready now anyway. But when school starts, it'll be the talk of the entire class."

He unfastened the rocket, setting it off to the side. "In the meantime, why don't we properly introduce you to the playground?" He patted the seat in front of him. "Hop on."

Isabella was understandably hesitant, letting a boy whose hobby seemed to be building rockets and machinery push her on a swing. "Are you sure?"

"It's fine, Isabella. I haven't done anything to the actual seat. Yet."

Slowly, she sat down, her hands grasping the chain on either side. Phineas grabbed the chain underneath her hands, pulling it as he backed up.

"You ready?" he whispered in her ear, sending a chill down her spine.

"Ready," she replied.

And on that note, he pushed forward, Isabella surging up into the air. It was the most jubilant feeling she had ever had in her young life. It was a special moment. Giggling madly, her uneasiness of her sudden meeting with Phineas was left on the ground. It might as well have been launched onto the mattress abroad.

Phineas continued to push Isabella on the swing, both of them unaware of the two adults that stood in the doorway, watching the two kids with growing interest.

Cheryl leaned toward Vivian, lowering her voice. "I think your daughter is going to fit in here just fine, Mrs. Garcia-Shapiro."

"Yes," she responded as her daughter went even higher, her laugh infectious. "Yes, she will."

Phineas shivered slightly as the memory of their first meeting came back to him. It had been a great time that day, being with Isabella. Even later when she was properly introduced to Ferb, he didn't let her out of her sight, just to make her more comfortable during her first few days at school. Perhaps, he thought, he already knew then just how special she would be to him. He most certainly knew that now, since the last week had been somewhat tumultuous on his mind.

Isabella had said nothing during his brief trip back down memory lane, although he could tell she had been transported back to that day as well. Her mouth was still covered by her hand, and tears were beginning to fall from her eyes, but her smile was a wonderful sight to behold.

"I...umm..." Phineas said, breaking the silence. "I called Miss Cheryl at the preschool to see if she had the photos. I wasn't really expecting her to still have them, but apparently the school holds on to all the pictures. Even the...umm...non-official ones."

It was beginning to occur to the redhead that his neighbor's brain may have shut down when she had opened the box. He had expected for her to like it (and he knew she did; that much was clear); he certainly didn't know that it would cause her to go semi-catatonic.

Phineas scooted closer to her, leaning toward her. "Do you like it?" he whispered.

She silently nodded her head, tears still flowing down her cheeks.

"Do you...want me to put it on you?"

Another nod.

Phineas gingerly took the box from her hands, careful not to drop the necklace. He undid the clasp and slowly wrapped the chain around her neck, reattaching it on the other side. Now that the piece was in its proper place, the starlight seemed to make the locket sparkle even more brightly than before. Finished, he looked up at her face. Her gaze was on the locket, her eyes still glimmering.

"I, um..." He started again, his voice shaking slightly, "I was kind of rushing it, I know, so some of the detail work might be a little off. The chain also may be missing-"

Whatever Phineas was going to say was missing from the chain was moot, because Isabella suddenly grabbed him and hugged him with all of her might.

The first hug had been great. This hug was more tender, even if it was just as forceful. He could feel her tears dampen his neck, but he quickly found that he didn't care in the slightest.

"Phineas." Her voice was muffled by his sweatshirt, but he could still hear every word. "This is the most wonderful, beautiful, thoughtful gift that anyone has ever given me."

And that was all he need to hear.

She held on for a little longer, then leaned back, hands unconsciously grabbing him. "I don't even know what to say."

"I'm just glad you like it, Isabella. It makes the work I put into it all worthwhile."

"Wait, you made this?" she asked, incredulous. "How on Earth did you make this in so little time?"

Phineas laughed. "Isabella, it's me we're talking about here. I find the time."

"This is what you were making in the garage? And not the firework or whatever? Gretchen thought that you were up to something, but I didn't really believe her."

"Yeah, she guessed right. Sorry I had to lie to you; I didn't want you to know about it until the time was right."

Isabella glanced down at the necklace again, smiling. "Well, I guess I can forgive you this time."

Phineas looked at his hands, intertwined with hers. It felt right, being there with her. He couldn't think of anywhere else he would rather be.

"Isabella," he said, getting her attention, "Throughout today, I've been thinking about what you mean to me. When I figured out about your feelings for me, I was confused, to be quite honest. I wasn't used to someone thinking about me that way. Candace had to calm me down a little bit. And she gave me the idea of letting you know how I feel through that (nodding to the necklace). So I guess you can thank her for that.

"As I worked on it, I wanted to know where exactly I stood on my feelings toward you. I'm...sort of weird like that. I knew that making that would say volumes about it, but now I..." He squeezed her hands slightly, calming himself down. "I want to say it to you in person."

Isabella gazed into his eyes, threatening to start crying again. "Say what?" she whispered.

"...Isabella, I really care about you. A lot. I know that looking back through our days together and your behavior, it may not be on the same level of you to me, but I know that you mean a lot to me. More than what I originally thought twenty-four hours ago.

"What I've learned is something that I really should have realized ages ago. For that, I'm sorry that it took me so long to see that. But the thing I want you to know is...you're my best friend, Isabella. And you will always will be my best friend. And whatever decided to happen between us in the new year...I will be right next to you every step of the way. Because now I know...that you're worth whatever's going to happen."

Isabella gripped his hands firmly, the tears starting again. "Phineas, this may be a little counterproductive to what you just said, given the fact that my feelings were somewhat more...obvious and bigger (she wiped her eyes with her sleeve), but what you just said...is all I have ever wanted to hear. And I mean that."

She leaned in to hug him again, but this one was (thankfully) not as bone-crushing as the previous few. Phineas returned the favor, glad that this day was finally over.

"And now here comes the countdown, ladies and gentlemen!"

...Oh crap, the day was going to be over.

"That's right!" Isabella yelled, turning to her left, her hands still on Phineas' shoulders. "We only got a few seconds left until the new year! I completely forgot!"

"So did I," he agreed. "I guess we've been slightly busy with other things, right?"

"And ten!" The people shown in New York was beginning to get crazy with the onset of the new year.

"Nine!" Phineas shouted.

"Eight!"

"Seven!" Isabella exclaimed.

As the host on the TV yelled "Six!", Phineas felt Isabella's hand on his cheek, tilting his head back toward him. Her smile was not as big as before, but there was something else other than happiness in it; Phineas couldn't quite place it.

"Five," she whispered.

Oh crap. Now he knew what it was. It was a silent question, one that didn't need to be spoken.

"Four!"

It was also one, Phineas thought as his hand unconsciously went to her cheek, that didn't need a spoken answer.

"Three," he murmured.

And as the announcer counted to two, they slowly leaned in toward each other, breathing the last number that mattered.

"One..."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: ...See you next year, people. Read and review, if you like.