After some very, VERY intense kissing ("so we can get comfortable with each other." She had explained afterward while trying to catch her breath), he was pushed off of her. She opened her nightstand drawer and pulled out a notepad (It was pink and had scribbles of "P+I" all over it) and started writing things down. She looked up at his questioning face and grinned.

"We need to plan."

A half an hour later, everything was in order and Buford was then dragged downstairs to be introduced as Isabella's "boyfriend" to her mother. Mrs. Garcia-Shapiro seemed to approve of the relationship ("Oooooh Isa! He's so big and strong! He's a good man for you, Isa. He'll protect you, he'll take care of you."), and another fifteen minutes later he was heading home with some sort of Gefilte fish taco in his hand and Isabella's number on speed dial.

~O~

The next morning, Buford was pummeling that one artsy kid (Dingo? Janga?), when he heard familiar voices. He glanced up to see the Gang coming down the hallway toward him. He noticed Isabella staring longingly at Phineas, who was chatting animatedly to Ferb about putting the school on a hover-craft and letting it float around the tri-state area. He gave a disgruntled sniff. No girl should be pretending to be dating a boy when she's looking like that at another boy. She was blowing her own plan.

He stepped over Dodongo's twitching body and headed slowly in their direction. When he drew closer, she turned her head and locked eyes with him. He clenched his jaw and kept moving forward, watching her nibble her lip whilst keeping in step with the three boys. She paused slightly for a second and glanced slightly to Buford's right. He followed her gaze and saw the boy's restroom. He paused himself, remembering what was said last night:

"Remember, if you don't want to do this and you want to back out, just go into the bathroom by your locker. I'll understand if you do..." she trailed off for a second before nodding. "Just remember, go into the bathroom."

He stayed quiet a moment. He glanced at her and saw her watching him cautiously. She was expecting him to go in and to be honest, he kind of expected himself to go in too. Was this really worth it? He started thinking about what the look on his friends' faces will be, the fact that the news of Dansville High's Number One Bully was dating the sweet little Mexican-Jewish Princess would spread like wildfire across campus, those promised Fire Side Cupcakes, the feeling of her lips on his-

He shrugged and continued past it. Eh, What the Hell. As long as I get my cupcakes.

When he stepped away from the restroom door, a bright smile comparable to last night appeared on Isabella's face and sprinted to him. He stood still when she approached and braced himself for what happened next. She practically launched herself on him, gushing out a "Hi Honey!" and planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Hey." He muttered when she slid off his chest and took his hand. He glanced around and noticed that a few people had stopped and were now watching them, including Baljeet, Ferb and Phineas. Baljeet looked as if he just witnessed a murder, Ferb had an eyebrow raised (equivalent to his mouth hanging down to the floor), and Phineas... only seemed to have a mild mixture of surprised and confused.

She paid no mind to them, though, and smiled wider. "Walk me to class?" She asked and began pulling him down the hall.

"Sure..." He glanced at the threes' eyes follow them and smirked. "Babe."

The rest of the walk to her homeroom was silent on their part. People around them already started whispering, staring at them as they passed by. Isabella seemed to enjoy herself, holding her head high and giving a wink at her Fireside friends (who ran into each other in shock). Buford just glared at everyone.

Soon, they came to a halt and Isabella glanced to her right. "Well, this is my class." She looked him in the eyes and gave his hand a little grateful squeeze (they were still holding hands?). "Thank you." She half-whispered before stepping away and breaking contact. "Meet me here to walk me to history, k?" She then turned and walked into the classroom with a waggle of her fingers over her shoulder.

He watched her go through the doorway and then looked down at his hand. His fingers were slightly curved in like he was grasping at something and the palm felt strangely cold. He made a fist and opened it up a few times, only looking up when he saw some punk looking at him funny. He shot a growl his way and shoved his hand into his jeans, shuffling away before the warning bell rang and wondering what exactly he got himself into.

~O~

OK, so, I had to do a HUGE rewrite of this chapter because the old version was Suck suck McsuckerDoogle. Hopefully this one's better. Doubt it though.

R&R please.