AN: Listen to me. I am talking directly in your ear now. After I wrote AND edited this ENTIRE fic, I realized that the original New Year's sphere that Phineas and Ferb built shot off into space at the end of the New Year's episode. I am not going to rewrite anything to accommodate this because I've come too far to turn back now. You're just going to have to deal with the fact that they have the same ball in this one. If you're somehow mad about this, please write a detailed complaint in the comments and I will file it with HR.


It was fifteen minutes until midnight, and the air was electric.

Phineas and Ferb's annual all-night New Year's party was in full swing. It usually kicked off around nine or ten, and was hosted in the same time sphere they'd built as children. Everyone knew that the brothers didn't typically repeat projects, but this one was tradition.

Buford liked New Year's Eve. He could stay up late without getting in trouble with his ma, it was socially acceptable to be rowdy and loud, and he got to drink sparkling cider out of champagne glasses – not to mention it was his last chance to go all-out before Santa started tracking niceness levels for the year. He'd go so far as to say it was his favorite holiday.

At that very moment, he had just finished chugging a serving of punch, and was now surveying the grand ball room for any opportunities to raise Cain.

Half the town was in attendance, nearly leaving the area standing room only. This party got bigger and bigger every year. Soon, its hosts would have to build another expansion to the venue – and they'd probably put Buford on paint duty again.

As he absentmindedly crushed his paper cup in his fist, Buford spotted Phineas and Isabella across the hall, doing some kind of jive together.

He considered looking for a tub of Gatorade to dump on his friends, but quickly decided against it. Best not to mess with Dinnerbell when Izzy was doing boyfriend-girlfriend stuff with him. He'd learned that the hard way.

Other couples were beginning to pair off as well, no doubt preparing for the clock to strike twelve. It was approaching fast; a glance out a nearby porthole showed that Earth was close enough that city lights could be seen. The ball would soon finish its descent.

Ferb was manning the DJ station, as he was wont to do. Covering his eyes were a pair of gold, plastic, comically oversized sunglasses, which formed a delightfully ironic look when matched with his stoic expression. Since he was in charge of the music, he was also off-limits for pestering.

Buford tossed the cup over his shoulder and began to make his way through the crowd, bumping shoulders as he went. If he couldn't spike the punch (where would he get the booze? they were only sixteen), TP the exterior of the sphere (the cold vacuum of space would kill him), or doodle on a sleeping person's face (it wasn't late enough yet for anyone to be asleep), he would seek out his old stand-by.

He and Baljeet had spent the first part of the night together, having a lengthy discussion about an esoteric French film they had watched the previous evening. But about half an hour prior, his nerd had excused himself and wandered off, muttering something about a girl.

Buford hadn't listened too closely. He tended to zone out when Baljeet's love life came up.

Despite the thick crowd, he spotted his friend with relative ease – he was directly under the disco ball in the center of the dance floor, tapping his foot and worrying his lower lip. His eyes were darting around frantically, but they never quite landed on Buford.

Good. He wouldn't see him coming. The bully made a beeline for his target, a smirk spreading across his mug.

As he got closer, he noticed little points of light dancing across Baljeet's skin, and on his hair, and in his eyes. It was only from the disco ball, but it looked like shooting stars.

He was within grabbing distance now. Buford almost stopped. But –

His pale, bulky arm wrapped around Baljeet's neck and pulled him into a light headlock, eliciting a surprised yelp. A scratchy laugh erupted from Buford's chest as he gave the smaller boy a noogie.

"Buford!" Baljeet half-heartedly pushed at his assailant with a sigh, but it was obvious he wasn't too annoyed. He could have wriggled out of his grip if that was the case. "I don't have time for this!"

"What, you're too good for some light bullying all of a sudden?" He retracted his arms despite his teasing. "What's got your suspenders in a twist?"

As he smoothed his hair back down, Baljeet replied, "There's only a few minutes left until midnight!"

"So what?"

He responded with an eye roll. " Sooo, for the past four years, I've kissed a pretty girl to bring in the new year. Remember?"

Buford remembered. He definitely remembered. First, it had been Wendy Stinglehopper, and she'd moved to Iowa the very next week (for unrelated reasons, Baljeet insisted). The next two years were with Mishti, Baljeet's girlfriend at the time, but they were 'just friends' now. And Ginger kissed him at midnight last year, but the two of them hadn't been on good terms ever since the science fair fiasco last October.

"Like I said, so what?"

"Ugh!" He turned away and fiddled with the zipper on his jacket. "I cannot let this tradition be broken. What if it brings a year of misfortune and bad luck?"

Buford shrugged. "You didn't kiss anyone at midnight five years ago. Or any year before that."

Baljeet's hand snaked through his own hair, tugging at it from stress. "I was a child then, and besides, I've kept it up this long. The universe knows I am capable of it now!"

"You really think the universe gives enough of a crap to keep track of who you're smoochin' and when?"

"It is not worth risking." He grabbed Buford's shirt in two fists, a desperate look on his face. "You have to help me! I am running out of time!"

Buford's canine tooth picked at a hangnail. "Why should I?"

"Is there not a clause in the bully code about helping one's nerd in a time of desperate need?"

The taller boy stared, unimpressed. "There's nothing in the bully code that says I have to help you kiss a girl."

"You owe me one, Buford. What about when I helped you with Brigitte?"

"Hey, that was different!"

"Oh, yeah?"

"That's right!" He jabbed a finger into Baljeet's shoulder. "I was runnin' away from her, not trying to kiss her!"

"Well…" The nerd rocked back on his heels, losing an inch of height. He had been unconsciously standing on his toes. "What about the best friend code?"

"The what?"

Baljeet's pupils grew wider and sparklier as he clasped his hands under his chin. "Does the best friend code say you have to help me?"

No, but your eyes do , thought Buford, who immediately began mentally beating himself up – literally. He envisioned his own brain as a nondescript nerd (very purposefully not Baljeet), and began pounding it with imaginary fists.

This was his routine. He would have a mushy thought about Baljeet, and he would promptly correct it. He wasn't stupid. He knew what those thoughts could mean. It was simply better to squash them before they spiraled out of control.

"There is no such thing as the best friend code."

"Yes, there is!"

He leaned forward. "Is it in writing?"

Baljeet huffed. "You are absolutely incorrigible."

"You know how bad fancy words make me wanna slug you."

"It means stubborn. Hard-headed." He mirrored the bully and angled his torso forward, narrowing his eyes as he did so. " Impossible ."

Buford pulled away and broke eye contact. "Listen, Jeet, give it a rest. Has your stupid brain ever taken a break from worrying about stuff?"

"Not for several years now, no." He attempted to make the statement in jest, but there was an edge to his tone that betrayed his thoughts.

Over the speakers, a new song began playing. It was that corny song by The LumberZacks, the one with all the tree puns – Baljeet's go-to tune when the gang did karaoke. His eyebrows perked up when he heard the opening guitar chords.

Buford glanced at the DJ table, and Ferb lifted his shades to give him a knowing wink. Buford bristled. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Had he been watching them talk?

Things like this had been happening more and more often lately. Just that morning, Isabella had given them both a weird, smug smile when she entered the backyard and saw them fighting over the last grape soda.

Sure, they had been giggling like a couple of morons. Sure, Buford had held the can as high up as he could manage, forcing Baljeet to hang off of his shoulder in a vain attempt to reach it. Sure, he let Baljeet have the drink in the end. So what? They were friends. Everyone knew that.

Buford didn't like being a spectacle – not when his thoughts and feelings came into play, at least. And he felt like everyone could read his thoughts lately. It terrified him.

So he decided to give Ferb the finger while Baljeet was momentarily distracted. The Brit returned to his task, unperturbed.

Buford dug his fingernails into his palm. "Your favorite song, right?"

Questioning him as if he didn't know the boy's blood type. He wasn't confirming that Baljeet loved the song. That was a given. No, the real intention of the inquiry was an invitation to dance.

They'd never explicitly asked each other to dance. Not once. It always just… happened. Buford liked to dance. It was fun. And Baljeet always seemed to match his tempo.

Baljeet looked up at the sky and sighed. "Yes, but I must focus. I am sorry, but if you're not going to help me, I will take my leave."

Frustration bubbled up in Buford's chest. "Even if I wanted to help, how would I even do it? You want me to walk up to random people and ask them if they wanna kiss my friend? That's creepy, man."

"Have you never seen High School Musical–" He rolled his eyes. "Nevermind. I'll see you after midnight, Buford."

And just like that, Baljeet slipped through the crowd, and Buford was alone under the disco ball.

He felt the urge to follow him, to shout after him, but something kept his feet planted where they were.


It was twenty minutes after midnight, and Baljeet was left without his New Year's kiss.

The longer he sat at this table and sorted the confetti into neat little stacks (categorized by size, shape, and color), the more silly he felt. Now that the panic had subsided, he was able to rationalize things more clearly.

And on top of that, he was beginning to feel a little guilty about his conversation with Buford.

He rubbed two pieces of plastic confetti between his fingertips. He had to go find his bully soon – he just had to figure out what to say to him first. The realization that he'd been a bad friend had hit him like a ton of bricks, and it gave him an unpleasant feeling in the pit of his chest.

A moment later, Phineas and Isabella approached him, seemingly out of nowhere, and took two of the seats to his left. They both looked worn out, which made sense, since they'd been fast dancing for almost an hour.

Baljeet greeted them, and they responded with only a wave at first, both of them too busy catching their breath to verbally respond.

Phineas used a nearby napkin to dab at his forehead. "Where's Buford?"

"I regret to say that I do not know."

Isabella gave him an unplaceable look, but said nothing.

Phineas furrowed his brow. "Weren't you guys together at midnight?"

Baljeet frowned and bent the confetti in half, creasing the plastic. "No, we were not."

"How come?" Isabella suddenly looked worried. "Did he do something? Are you mad at him?"

"I suspect it is him who is mad at me ."

Her look changed from one of worry to scrutiny. "What happened?"

"Well, I…" He felt very silly. "I was trying to find someone to kiss at midnight because of a tradition I was fixated on."

Phineas looked even more confused now, and turned to Isabella for answers. She gave him none.

"And I left Buford's side in the process." Baljeet squeezed his eyes shut. "When midnight passed and I was still in one piece, I began to realize the whole thing might be a little…"

"Silly?" Isabella looked like a disappointed teacher.

A sigh. "Yes."

She scooted her chair closer to her friend and away from Phineas, who had been tugging at her sleeve. Her hand grasped Baljeet's shoulder, gentle but firm.

"Baljeet, I'm only going to say this once, because you're my good friend and I love you dearly. You've apparently been acting really stupid tonight."

"Hurtful!"

"Let me finish. Do you know why I just called you stupid?"

"Do I want to know?"

"Because there's someone here tonight who I believe would very much like to kiss you."

Baljeet heard what she said, but it took him a few long moments to process it. He looked out onto the dance floor, and the warm light cast a haze over his vision.

He felt his ears get hot and his hands begin to shake. "...Oh."

Isabella took his hand. "Now, if you don't want to kiss him, you need to go find him and apologize for giving him the cold shoulder all for the past hour. He's still your best friend. But if you do want to kiss him, I don't think he would say no."

Baljeet couldn't meet her eye. "I… I do not know. Is it such a good idea?"

"Really? Haven't you ever considered it?"

"Kind of?" He felt sick, but it was almost… nice, floaty. "It is hard to describe. It never felt like a good idea. I feel hesitant about taking any action that would disrupt the status quo."

She squeezed his hand and smiled at him. "There's no time like the present."

"But everything will change, will it not?" He clutched his chest, trying to keep himself from hyperventilating. "If he… if the feeling is not mutual, will I still be his nerd?"

"There's no way you're getting rid of him, Baljeet. It doesn't matter what happens. He's gonna be bullying you until you're both ten feet under."

"That is very grim, but strangely motivating."

She grinned and pulled him into a hug. "Go find him. He needs you right now. And it's been cute watching your little bromance over the years, but it's getting old. Drop the B, okay?"

All of a sudden, Baljeet felt a peculiar pep in his step. He had to act on this surge of motivation before it waned. "Thank you, Isabella. Phineas."

Phineas blinked from his seat in the metaphorical audience. "No problem, bro."

Baljeet pushed himself out of his chair with vigor and waved behind him as he left. "Happy new year, you two!"

Once he was out of sight, Phineas leaned over to Isabella, bewilderment haunting his face. "Buford and Baljeet aren't dating?"


It was forty minutes after midnight, and Buford was sitting in Phineas and Ferb's backyard.

He was alone with his thoughts and a few stray crickets who were chirping in ignorant bliss. Crickets didn't have to worry about things like navigating interpersonal communication. Buford wished he was a cricket.

He'd only seen a few people leave the sphere so far, and they hadn't stuck around. The house was empty as well – Mrs. Flynn and Mr. Fletcher were attending some boring grown-up party, and Candace lived with Jeremy now, so Buford had no clue what their plans were.

And since everyone else was still in the sphere, it made the usually-busy backyard feel unnaturally quiet.

He'd spent the past several minutes plucking blades of grass from the ground one by one and contemplating the evening so far. It was becoming harder and harder to ignore the truth of his situation.

But he wouldn't put the thought into words. If he entertained it for even a single moment, it would become real, it would eat him alive, and he might take Baljeet down with him. He couldn't do that. He wouldn't be able to live with himself. Their friendship wasn't going to implode on his watch.

That being said, he was beyond irritated with his nerd. He didn't want to invalidate Baljeet's compulsions and anxieties, because he knew better than anyone how much he struggled with them. But to willfully reject Buford's offer to dance…

Okay, it hadn't been an outright offer , but Baljeet would have known what he meant. And he still walked away.

As much as he hated to admit it, Buford had matured a little bit since they were kids. He knew he couldn't lash out at Baljeet just because his feelings were hurt and he felt like going on a bully rampage.

He just needed a while to simmer down. Collect his thoughts and give himself a chance to seethe in solitude. Then he would find Baljeet and they would… talk about it .

Ugh. Buford grimaced, disgusted by his own sincerity.

The airlock hissed from across the backyard, startling him and worsening his mood.

For their sake, he hoped whoever emerged from the door wouldn't try to approach him. He set his brow in a hard, straight line and prepared his worst glower. A nasty look from a van Stomm could send anyone running.

Baljeet stepped out.

Well, it could send almost anyone running.

The nerd noticed him quickly, and the glower disappeared from Buford's face. He toned it down to a severe frown instead.

Baljeet hesitated for a moment, but then walked to him, his hands clasped behind his back. Buford looked at the ground and absentmindedly picked up a fistful of grass.

Pausing a few feet away from him, Baljeet was silent for a moment. It felt weird. They usually weren't ever at a point where neither of them were speaking. Comfortable silence wasn't something they did – at least one of them always had something to ramble on about.

After a few awkward seconds of deliberation, he elected to lean his back against the fence, lowering himself down to sit beside Buford. He kept his gaze straight.

Baljeet spoke first. "Hello, Buford."

Buford grunted.

"Um… it is a lovely night, isn't it?"

"I guess."

Baljeet mused, "I enjoy these parties, but I do sometimes wonder what it would be like to spend New Year's Eve in the comfort of my home."

"We'll probably never know." Buford rolled his eyes, but it wasn't mean-spirited. They were both always up for whatever Phineas and Ferb were planning.

Another uncomfortable moment passed

Buford cleared his throat. "Well, did you do it?"

"No." Baljeet sighed. "No, I did not."

"So now you're cursed or whatever?"

"Or whatever."

Buford exhaled a single-syllable laugh.

A cricket chirped.

Baljeet turned his head towards his friend, his voice slow and careful. "Buford, I have come to apologize for my behavior this evening."

The bully said nothing and continued to stare at the grass.

"I deeply regret abandoning you to your own devices. It was rude of me."

"I can handle myself," Buford grumbled.

"Trust me, I know that, but even so…"

"It's fine." Buford sighed in concession. "Don't worry about it, Baljeet–"

"No, it is not fine."

Buford finally met his eyes, glaring at him in a particular way. "What are you talkin' about?"

"It is not okay, Buford," Baljeet lamented. "And I want to do everything in my power to make it okay. Do you understand?"

Oh, so Baljeet felt bad. He felt really bad.

And that didn't do much to make Buford feel better. In fact, it made him feel worse (and not worse in the way that made him angrier – it was in the way that made him feel guilty ).

He turned to his nerd, his expression softening ever-so-slightly. "Hey, you said sorry. So now we're even, right? Back to normal."

Baljeet got a strange look on his face.

"You want another noogie or something?" He tried to smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "As a token of my goodwill?"

"Buford, I didn't get my New Year's kiss."

A pang of something hit Buford's chest. It kinda hurt. "Yeah, yeah, we established that."

"And you know… I suppose it does not have to happen at midnight." His face was nearly a still image. "I believe any time on New Year's Day would suffice."

Buford deflated. Baljeet was bargaining. They weren't going to be able to have a normal conversation until tomorrow, at the very least.

So much for the noogie.

The nerd's eyes sparkled, like they were still under the disco ball. "It is not too late for you to help me, Buford."

He gritted his teeth, but a bit of venom and resentment slipped out regardless. "Seriously? Do you really think I'm gonna help you with this right now?"

" No , I–" Baljeet rolled his eyes and bit his lip, obviously holding back a sarcastic remark. Buford had seen him do it a million times before.

Baljeet shifted so that his knees were pointed towards his bully. The two of them looked at each other for a moment, something heavy hanging in the air between them. Buford needed to blink, but he was afraid he might miss something important in the fraction of a second it would take.

In an uneasy, deft motion, Baljeet's arm raised, and his hand cupped Buford's cheek. It happened quickly, as if he had been anticipating and planning the gesture for the past several minutes, and rushed through it as a result.

Buford was frozen. There weren't many things in the world that could make him freeze up, but Baljeet always managed to surprise him.

His heart pounded in his ears. "What's goin' on here?"

Baljeet's eyes were as big as plates. "...You are not pulling away."

This was insane. This wasn't real. He couldn't give words to the thought. He wouldn't.

Despite his contradictory stream of consciousness, he still found himself speaking.

"...No, I'm not."

It wasn't an acknowledgement of anything. It was just an observation. He was, in fact, not moving.

And that would have been that.

But then Baljeet kissed him.

Ohhhh. That's what he'd meant.

It wasn't a proper kiss at first. He just pressed his lips to his, straightforward and unceremonious, like he was testing him. Seeing how he would react.

Buford wasn't quite sure what to do. He'd never kissed anyone before – or been kissed, for that matter. And there was also the question of how he felt about the situation.

The muscles in his arms were screaming conflicting messages at his brain. Should he push Baljeet away? He didn't want to do that. Should he wrap his arms around him? That might be too much all at once.

He settled for copying what Baljeet had done, reaching up to hold his nerd's face in his hand. Careful. Apprehensive.

After that, there was no need to worry. It felt weirdly normal. It felt like they should have been doing this all along.

At some point, his hand made its way back to Baljeet's hair, and as the boy tilted his head into his touch, Buford felt his brain start melting. Just a little bit.

Why had he ever been afraid of this?

The sound of the airlock opening interrupted them, and they unlocked their lips and sat back. To people that knew them, the sight of them lounging in the grass together would be normal, and to strangers, they'd just look like they stepped out to get fresh air. Nobody would be the wiser (except for Isabella).

Baljeet's smile stretched from ear to ear. He lowered his voice when he said, "Buford, I did not know you felt this way."

Buford couldn't stop himself from grinning back, try as he might. " You're the one who kissed me , poindexter."

After exiting the party venue, a pair of unfamiliar teenagers left the backyard without giving the bully and the nerd a second glance. They hadn't even noticed them.

Baljeet, with a little trepidation, took Buford's hand. Buford didn't pull away from that, either. They looked at each other with newfound curiosity.

"I apologize for not dancing with you," Baljeet said.

"Whatever," Buford replied with a shrug. "Sorry I didn't take you seriously when you were stressin'."

He shook his head. "It is water under the bridge."

"So I guess we're not back to normal, huh?"

"No, I suppose not." Baljeet laced their fingers together. "But I would like it very much if this was the new normal, if that is okay with you."

Buford felt his face heating up again. Dang it, he turned so red when he blushed. It was embarrassing. He silently cursed his pale genes as he repeated himself. "Whatever."

The nerd smirked nefariously, never one to pass up an opportunity to push his bully's buttons. "Is that a yes? I will need to hear a yes."

He groaned and tried to look angry. "Yes, okay? Yes! We can try… this. If you want. God, this is weird."

"Yes. Very weird."

They both dropped the act for a moment, sharing a small smile. Just for the two of them. Nobody else.

Buford pointed his thumb behind him at the sphere. "Y'know, it sounds like the party's still bumping. I could probably slide Ferb a few bucks. Get him to play your song again."

"Our song, Buford." Baljeet looked at their joined hands. "I always sort of thought of it as our song."

"Aw, jeez, don't pull that mushy crap on me, Jeet." He began to stand up and pull his companion to his feet so he wouldn't turn any redder. "You're gonna ruin my image."

Baljeet leaned towards Buford on his toes so that the taller boy was supporting his weight. "Oh, yes, Mr. 'Come And Watch Period Dramas With Me'. Your reputation will be absolutely tarnished if anyone catches wind that we are now courting."

"What is this, the 1800's? Who the heck calls it 'courting' anymore?"

"Courting, dating, going steady. Does it matter? What would you call it?"

"Easy." Buford pulled him by the arm towards the airlock so he wouldn't have to look him in the eye while he was making such a dopey face. "You're my nerd."

Baljeet laughed. "Then, of course, you are my bully. You always have been."

They made their way back inside, hand in hand. Buford suspected he wouldn't have to bribe Ferb at all.