#[ scientific pondering - ic musings ]

[aloe-aro]

{tag dump}

[authenticcadence18]

Can’t Help Falling in Love - Ch. 6

HI GUYS!!!!!!! Thanks for stopping by!!!! I really hope you enjoy this chapter!!! 

ALRIGHT. Onward we go!!!

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

AO3

...

Take my hand…

...

“Come on, Isabella. It’s nearly 10:30. You need to figure something out.”

Isabella pulled her hair atop her head into a bun and squinted at her reflection for a second before groaning and letting it tumble down.

She’d been sitting in front of her mirror, trying to decide what to do with her hair today, for an embarrassing amount of time.

Usually Isabella just pulled her hair into a ponytail, snapped a bow in it, and called it a day. She didn’t have time to fret about physical appearances; she was usually so busy! And ponytails were cute AND practical.

But...today was different. She didn’t have work, or school, or soccer practice.

She was just going over to Phineas’s house to finish their project by playing a few instruments. And singing a love song.

Strangely, the thought of doing the latter sounded more compelling today than it ever had. Perhaps the events of last night had something to do with that.

Revisiting the memory of Phineas taking her hand, of Phineas softly whispering that she was beautiful, of Phineas thanking her with a kiss on her cheek, made Isabella’s face flush and her heart race all over again.

...she was really, really excited to spend time with him today.

Isabella took a moment to ponder at her reflection again, at the way her hair hung loose and framed her face differently than her usual ponytail did.

She hadn’t worn her hair down outside the house in ages because, even though she loved the way it looked and felt, it was impractical.

(She had no idea how she’d managed to go a few years without pulling it back at all as a kid, especially during the summer! It was so HOT in Danville.)

As Isabella smiled at herself in the mirror, however, she supposed she could afford to be a little impractical today.

Phineas had kissed her, after all.

Anything was possible.

...

“Okay. Let’s review what we went over last night.”

“Go for it.”

“Isabella is coming over at 10:30. We’re going to record the last few instruments for our song, finalize the instrumental track, and then record ourselves singing it for Ms. Chase.”

“I remembered that.”

“We will be upstairs in Candace’s old music room the entire time.”

“Yup.”

“And YOU will be staying downstairs. Or in our room. Anywhere, as long as you stay away from Isabella and I.”

“Got it.”

“There will be no teasing. No embarrassing comments. No sly looks. No smug remarks about how we’re singing a love song together. No meddling in our interactions whatsoever. You got that?”

“...I can’t make any promises.”

“FERB.”

“Okay, okay, I promise.”

“Good.”

“...I’d think you’d WANT me to meddle a bit, though. If I hadn’t said something last night, you probably wouldn’t have kissed Isabella at all.”

“THAT was a one-time thing. I only kissed her because she kissed me first.

“....HERS WAS A FRIENDLY KISS. ….DON’T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT.”

...

Phineas’s heart leapt when the doorbell rang. “I GOT IT!!!!” he exclaimed, springing up from the couch and crossing over to the front door. He smiled confidently before grabbing the knob.

Today was going to be a good day.

He opened the door, and Isabella greeted him with a small wave and a cheerful, “Good morning, Phineas!”

Phineas found himself incapable of saying good morning back. He was a bit distracted.

“Isabella has her hair down haven’t seen her with her hair down since we were kids she’s so pretty with her hair down I mean she’s always pretty but her hair’s down today ohmygosh I think I might fall over is it even scientifically possible for someone to be as beautiful as she is???”

Isabella frowned and tilted her head at Phineas, who’d been standing speechless and stiff as a board since she bid him good morning. “...you okay, Phineas?” she asked. “I don’t have a toothpaste stain on my dress, do I?”

“Uh! Hair down! Looks nice! Morning! Good!” Phineas managed to squeak as he ushered her inside.

“ ...real smooth, Romeo… .”

“Oh!” Isabella giggled and fiddled with a strand of her hair as she stepped through the doorway. “Thanks! It’s been awhile since I wore it down...I thought it could be fun for the day!”

“It looks great!!” Phineas replied eagerly. He shut the door behind her. “I mean! It always looks great. It’s just a different kind of great today. Yeah. Uh. I’m just going to stop talking now.”

Isabella laughed again, and the sound made Phineas feel as if he could float up and touch the ceiling without the aid of an anti-gravity fun launcher.

“Thanks, Phineas! You’re so sweet.”

Isabella hadn’t worn her hair down in the hopes of getting a compliment from Phineas. Maybe she hoped he’d think it was pretty, sure, but mostly she’d just wanted to wear it down because of how light and free it made her feel.

...but she couldn’t deny his reaction to it made her heart soar.

Phineas twitched when he noticed Ferb standing at the end of the foyer, taking in the scene with an unreadable expression on his face.

He PRAYED his brother would honor his promise.

“Hey, Ferb!!” Isabella said. “How’s your morning been?”

“It’s been nice so far!” Ferb replied. “I hope yours has been good as well.”

He wanted to quip something like, “PHINEAS certainly seems to be having a nice morning...he sure likes your new hairdo.”

But he’d made his brother a promise.

Ferb was a lot of things, but he wasn’t one to break promises.

Even if it meant letting a golden opportunity like this one pass him by.

So he maintained silence after greeting Isabella, simply waving at her and his brother before continuing into the kitchen to grab some coffee.

He could go back to meddling tomorrow. Once the promise expired.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” Isabella whirled around and approached Phineas again. “I wanted to see how your head is doing...do you mind if I check it out?”

“Go right ahead!” Phineas replied quickly.

Isabella leaned in close to inspect the area he’d been hit. “...YIKES. That’s some bruise. Does it hurt when I touch it?” She prodded the injured area gently.

“UH!! A little, b-but it’s not too bad.” Phineas managed to reply.

“You can put some ice on it if it’s bothering you.” She withdrew her hand from his head and laid it on his shoulder. “Do you need me to get you some?”

“Actually, Isabella, my head might short circuit at any second because it can’t comprehend how compassionate and wonderful and kind you are. I don’t think ice can fix that.”

“nOPE! It’s fine!!! I’m fine!!!!”

“Alright, then. If you’re sure. Are you ready to finish our song?”

“Yes! The song! I’m ready.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?”

Isabella smiled and grabbed his hand before starting off towards the staircase.

As he followed, Phineas tried to pretend he and Isabella were kids again. Back then, holding her hand had just made him happy.

As a kid, he’d had the luxury of not understanding why holding Isabella’s hand made him so happy. Gaining said understanding had come with a whole slew of new feelings. Such as the nervousness tumbling around inside him right now.

But he didn’t want to be nervous right now. He just wanted to be happy.

He thought hard about his younger self and tried to recapture that feeling, the carefree joy of holding Isabella’s hand without worrying about having a crush on her.

Isabella turned and smiled brightly at him as they reached the top of the stairs, and for a moment, the nervousness faded away.

Phineas smiled back.

Today WAS going to be a good day. He’d make sure of it.

...

Phineas and Isabella stood at a table set up in the corner of their recording studio, sifting through notes and pages of sheet music.

“Okay, now that we’ve recorded the guitar solos and spliced them into the track, all we need to do is record the cello and violin stuff, finalize the instrumental track, and sing, right? And then we’ll be done?” Isabella asked.

“Yup!!” Phineas replied. “And all the stuff we’ve already recorded over the past week is loaded into the track as well! It shouldn’t take too long to get the cello and violin parts in there, so long as we don’t have to re-record them a bunch of times.”

“Ok cool!!” Isabella looked through the sheet music on the table and found the cello score.  “Here’s my music...where’d we put the cello again?”

“It’s over there, next to the guitars!”

“Got it!” She grabbed a pair of headphones from the table and placed them over her ears. “It sure was nice of the Danville Orchestra to lend us all these instruments for our project! I suppose the state-of-the-art microphones you built them sophomore year for that benefit concert inspired them to help us out.”

(The people of Danville were often more than willing to lend a hand to Phineas. It was the least they could do, after all the amazing things he’d done for them!)

Isabella lingered at Phineas’s side for a moment, just smiling at him. “This has been a lot of fun….” she mused softly. “I’m excited we’re almost finished, but I’m also a little sad…”

“Don’t worry, we still get to sing our song for the class!” Phineas reminded her. “And, heck! Now we have a recording studio! We can record music together whenever we want.”

“That’s a good point….” Isabella replied thoughtfully. “We should start brainstorming our next song cover soon...or write our own!!” She took his hand and gave it a brief squeeze before setting off across the studio to unpack the cello and get it tuned up to record. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready, and we can record the cello part!”

Phineas took a deep breath and willed his heart to slow down as Isabella left his side.

Her interactions with him had been a bit...different...today. And his heart couldn’t handle much more of it.

She kept smiling at him. Like, even more than normal. Or just gazing fondly at him.

And she kept finding little ways to be close to him...be it by placing her hand on his shoulder while they talked, leaning on his chair and resting her chin near his head while he sat at the soundboard mixing music together, or just grabbing his hand for handfuls of seconds in the moments in-between.

After about an hour of spending time with her, Phineas was a bundle of giddy nerves.

He didn’t know why Isabella was doing these things, but he certainly wasn’t complaining about it.

Well….maybe he had a HOPE as to why she was doing these things.

Every time Isabella smiled at him or touched his shoulder or gazed softly at him, his heart couldn’t help but wonder, “. ...what if?”

What if…?

What if, after he’d kissed her last night, something had changed between them?

For the better?

And, Phineas hadn’t just kissed Isabella out of nowhere. She’d kissed him before that.

The more he thought about it, the more he wondered if hers had really been a friendly kiss at all.

….what if she liked him too?

…….she probably didn’t. This was probably just wishful thinking. She was probably just being nice.

And yet....the “what ifs…?” persisted

“Hey, Phineas?” Isabella was kneeling on the ground next to the cello case. “Can you grab me a chair? I forgot to get one.”

“Sure!!” Phineas picked up a chair from his side of the room and brought it to Isabella, who smiled sweetly at him before sitting down. He held it steady for her as she sat, just in case.

(He didn’t want Isabella to fall over, especially not while holding a cello! Cellos were big. And expensive.)

“Thanks, Phineas! What would I do without you?”

She leaned her head back and grinned up at him before putting some rosin on her bow.

“N-no problem!!” Phineas replied. “I’m gonna go, uh, get the soundbooth ready to record. You just let me know when you’re ready!”

Even as he walked away, he couldn’t get the image of Isabella’s smile out of his head.

...he really needed to compose himself before they actually started singing, or he was going to pass out before they even got to the bridge.

...

Isabella smiled to herself as she played a few G scales on the cello to warm up her fingers. She’d always been fascinated with string instruments due to the duality of how they were played. They came in two parts. There was the main body of the instrument, of course, be it a cello or a viola or a violin. And then there was the bow. Both components were required to create beautiful music.

The instrument she held was a combination of two very different parts coming together to make one perfect, harmonious whole.

…..which kind of reminded Isabella of herself and a certain someone with red hair.

Said certain someone was currently in the soundbooth, looking as cute as ever in a white and orange striped shirt that reminded her of the one he’d worn a lot when they were younger.

She glanced down at her own outfit—a comfy pink dress she liked to wear whenever she didn’t have any place to be and a pair of leggings—and supposed it reminded her of how she used to dress when she was younger too.

….maybe this connection to her younger self explained why Isabella was perhaps being a BIT more forward with her feelings towards Phineas today.

In the past hour she’d gone out of her way to hold his hand, to smile at him, to just be CLOSE to him as much as she could, just like she used to do when they were kids.

Phineas hadn’t seemed to mind, just like he hadn’t minded when they were kids.

(If he’d minded, Isabella definitely would have stopped, because the last thing she wanted to do was make Phineas uncomfortable).

This time around, though, rather than being oblivious to the attention, he actually seemed to LIKE it.

She’d noticed the way he smiled shyly whenever she rested her hand on his shoulder, or the way his eyes lit up whenever he caught her gazing fondly at him.

Which only made her want to gaze at him even more.

After all that had happened between them last night, Isabella couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, JUST maybe, Phineas liked her—like, LIKED her-liked her—after all. Or at least, if he was starting to.

Maybe it was a stretch. Maybe he’d just been being friendly when he gushed about how pretty she was. And kissed her. And smiled back at her.  

Isabella couldn’t be sure. (Even if she was sure she’d treasure those moments forever.)

But...over the course of the past hour, she’d come up with a plan.

After they finished their project for the day, once they finished recording their instruments and singing together….she was going to ask Phineas out.

Not to be her boyfriend or anything! (Not yet, anyway.)

Just, out. The two of them. Doing something fun. It didn’t even have to be inherently romantic.

Isabella had come to realize that she didn’t necessarily NEED to confess her love to Phineas in an over-the-top, dramatic way to convey her feelings to him (as she’d always thought she would have to do as a kid, since he was just... so oblivious). She could just...express interest in spending time with him in a context that wasn’t necessarily strictly friendly. Go to lunch with him, or see a movie (...actually, perhaps seeing a movie wasn’t the best idea, considering how that had turned out the last time she tried…), or just sit at a coffee shop and do homework together. Slowly but surely help him realize how much she cared.

Isabella’s main fear concerning Phineas for years had been that she’d lose him as a friend if he ever found out about her feelings...but perhaps, if she took things one step at a time, just let them happen as opposed to rushing into them....they could go from being friends to something more without even realizing it.

(Perhaps they already had.)

Of course, there was always the possibility that Phineas would say no to her request to go out.

Which would hurt. But it would hurt less than an outright rejection of her feelings.

“You sound great, Isabella!! Are you ready to record?” Phineas’s voice carried through into her headphones.

Isabella looked over at him and smiled. “Sure am!!!”

Phineas gave her a thumbs up. “Alright, here we go!”

The familiar instrumental track they’d been building for the past week swelled in Isabella’s ears. She adjusted her posture and readied herself to play—though the cello didn’t come in until the second verse, so she had a bit of time.

A bit of time….

She smiled.

Perhaps in a bit of time, in just a couple of hours, she’d be out with Phineas. Holding his hand. Smiling at him. Taking a first step towards the next step with him.

Isabella couldn’t wait.

...

“....I think…I think that’s it.”

“Oh my gosh. Phineas, we did it.”

“We DID IT!!!

“YES!!!!!”

At last!! The instrumental track was complete. After recording and mixing everything together, Isabella and Phineas had sat down in the soundbooth to listen to the final product...and it sounded fantastic.

(Who’d have expected anything less from the two of them?)

Now there was only one thing missing.

Phineas gulped.

“So...uh….I guess it’s time for us to sing?”

Isabella smiled and rubbed the back of her neck. “I guess it is!”

Phineas coughed. “So! Uh, do you want to practice it once or twice before we record for Ms. Chase? I’ve got my part memorized, but I know we haven’t sung together yet.”

(They’d spent a couple of hours notating their song earlier in the week, discussing who would sing what and coming up with fun harmonies...but they’d used a piano to plink out all the notes and parted ways to practice their parts on their own. They still hadn’t sung anything together.)

“I’ve got my part memorized too, and I say we just go for it!!!” Isabella replied with a grin. “How many times have we sung spontaneous musical numbers together? If anyone can record a song on the first take, it’s us!!!”

The sooner she and Phineas finished recording, the sooner Isabella could ask him out. She was excited to sing with him, of course, and she was a little sad to be finishing their project…but thinking about what could happen afterward was growing increasingly more enticing.

“And, if we mess up, we can always record another take,” she added, just so Phineas wouldn’t think she wanted to get the singing over with.

“Uh! Okay, then! ...let’s go!”

...

“Ok, so just to review how this is going to work…since we just need to send a scratch recording to Ms. Chase, we don’t have to wear headphones to record ourselves singing. This microphone—" Phineas gestured to a microphone suspended in the middle of the ceiling, right above where he and Isabella stood. “—will pick up our voices and the instrumental track. And it doesn’t matter if we move around while we sing: the mic will pick it up no matter what. This recording doesn’t need to be perfect; it’s just for Ms. Chase.”

“Sounds good, Phineas!!!”

“Alright!! I guess, uh….I guess….I guess we just go for it.”

Phineas pulled a remote from his pocket. “When I push this button, the recording will start!” he explained. “And when I push this one, the track will come on. All we have to do is sing.”

Isabella nodded. “I’m ready!!!”

Phineas took a deep breath.

He could do this.

It was just singing.

...about love.

…..with the girl he loved.

“.....here we go.”

He pushed the record button, then the play button.

Instantly, the lilt of Isabella and Phineas’s hands dancing across the piano in the key of G filled the air.

As the familiar intro echoed around them, Phineas and Isabella exchanged a glance before looking away timidly.

Phineas’s stomach was in knots. He’d been simultaneously anticipating and dreading this moment for weeks, the moment where he’d finally get to tell Isabella how he truly felt without fear of it ruining their friendship.

All the “what if’s?” speculating the possibility of Isabella having feelings for him vanished, leaving only ones such as “ what if I choke? or forget the words?? what if I look at Isabella while I’m singing and she figures out I like her??? And what if she doesn’t like me back and all the hand holding and smiling was just friendly????”

Oh gosh. The intro was almost over.

Phineas found a point on the wall he could fixate on while singing. Maybe he just needed to focus on the music, on the technical side of things. And he’d be okay.

Isabella, who’d been all confidence and excitement only moments before, suddenly realized….she was incredibly nervous.

It was one thing to fantasize about asking Phineas out later, to conjure up mental images of them walking together and talking together.

But here? Right now? They were about to sing a love song.

They...were about to sing about being in love….with each other.

Or...to each other.

Could Isabella’s heart handle that?

….she was about to find out, because the intro was ending and Phineas was opening his mouth to take a breath.

...

Okay…I can do this.

“ Wise men say...only fools rush in….”

Don’t look at Isabella don’t look at Isabella don’t look at Isabella.

“...but I can’t help…”

DON’T LOOK AT ISABELLA.

“...falling in love with you.”

Isabella watched Phineas as he sang (and perhaps felt a few shivers go up and down her arms as he did so because WOW...his voice was as amazing as ever). She found his fixed posture and rigidness a bit off-putting at first—although he sounded great, he didn’t look like he was having fun at all—but then she realized, perhaps he was trying to be as professional with this recording as possible.

Isabella considered the lyrics she was about to sing, and who she was about to sing them near.

...maybe she needed to borrow some of that professionalism.

As Phineas finished his verse, Isabella found her own point on the wall to gaze at and took a breath.

Alright. Here we go. You can do this, Garcia-Shapiro.

“Shall I stay? Would it be a sin?”

‘Sin’? Yikes, now that I think about it, that’s kind of a heavy word for a love song…should we have changed that? …oh, I need to keep singing.

“ ...If I can’t help… ”

…DON’T LOOK AT PHINEAS.

“ ....falling in love with you. ”

Phineas couldn’t help but gaze at Isabella as she sang. Her voice was as beautiful as he remembered, if not more so.

Isabella chanced a glance at Phineas when she finished her verse and as the first instrumental break of the song—a repeat of one of the verses played on cello—kicked in. They stared for a second or two, taking in each-other’s rigid postures….and then both giggled silently.

Why were they acting so FORMAL? This was supposed to be fun!! And it wasn’t so bad: they’d both survived a verse at this point.

Isabella pretended to hold a cello and mimed dramatically playing the solo she’d recorded an hour ago, and Phineas grinned and joined in by accompanying her on air piano.

By the time the bridge began, neither of them could remember why they’d been so nervous in the first place.

“Like a river flows…”

Phineas sang this first line with a grin, wiggling his arms in an attempt to look like a river himself.

Isabella cracked a smile at him.

“Surely to the sea….”

For her line, she pretended to swim through the air.

“Darling, so it goes….”

Phineas gestured to Isabella as he sang, offering her his hand in an over-the-top way.

Isabella formally accepted his hand, returning the gesture with equal dramaticism.  

“Some things are meant to be….”

They held eye contact for a moment….and then dropped their hands and laughed again.

It felt good to be silly, to understand each other’s jokes without having to speak.

“Take my hand….”

They were singing together now, still smiling, still in character.

“Take my whole life too….”

Seriously, why had they been so worried? This was fun!!!

“For I can’t help...falling in love with you.”

The whine of an electric guitar burst into the air, signaling the beginning of the song’s second instrumental break.

Phineas took the air guitar solo—since he’d recorded it!!—and Isabella couldn’t help but grin.  

Suddenly, she wanted to move! She wanted to dance!! Because she was having fun with Phineas and making music with him and the microphones could pick up their voices from anywhere in the room, so why NOT dance??

Phineas smiled at Isabella as she spun around the recording studio, seemingly without a care in the world.

He’d missed getting to be goofy and free and spontaneous with her.

The electric guitar played its final note, and Phineas gently set down his air guitar as Isabella slowed to a stop across the room. They grinned and pretended to applaud before bowing to one another.

A second or so passed.

Isabella and Phineas rose from their bows.

Their eyes met.

….and something in the air shifted.

Suddenly, they weren’t laughing or joking around anymore.

They were just...Isabella and Phineas. Best friends. Standing together. Seeing each other. Inexplicably filled with certainty over things they’d never dared discuss aloud before.

They took a few steps towards each other as the bridge started up again.

“ Like a river flows, surely to the sea... ”

Something seemed to dissolve all the fears and anxieties and obliviousness away, leaving only Phineas and Isabella and the bond they shared as they sang. Somehow, nothing else seemed to matter. There was warmth in the air and in the notes and everywhere. It was palpable.

“ Darling so it goes… ”

The events of the past couple of weeks, the ones they’d been fretting over for the past couple of hours, were filtered in a different light now, amongst the guitars and strings and the dim glow of the recording studio.

Their “not a date” at Nosh Olé, calling each other cute the first morning they’d walked to school together, Isabella’s impromptu thank-you kiss during soccer practice, Phineas’s claim of seeing stars while gazing at her in the Football X7 stadium and HIS impromptu thank you kiss afterward...

What if they really had meant something more all along?

“...some things are meant to be….”

Phineas and Isabella drew nearer, perhaps without even realizing it. They were like two magnets, unable to deny the invisible fields tugging them towards one another.

“ Take my hand…. ”

Isabella and Phineas weren’t sure who reached out first. But it didn’t really matter. Now their hands were grasped together, fingers entwined as tightly as the harmonies they were singing.

“ Take my whole life too… ”

They drew closer and closer, hands still clasped, eyes soft with wonder and...love?

...of course they were in love.

How had they not seen it before?

“ For I can’t help...falling in love with you… ”

The desire to seal that love, to memorialize it and make it real, wasn’t a conscious thought. But it was there. In the music. In their smiles. In their eyes. In their hearts.

“ For I can’t help…”  

Their faces were practically touching now, eyes shuttered in anticipation of what was to follow.

“ ...falling in love…”

They weren’t even THINKING of what was to follow.

“... with...."

But they could feel it.

“. ....you... ”

The music and the recording studio and the world seemed to fade away, leaving only Phineas and Isabella as the final lyric brought them together at last…

...

Isabella came to her senses first, just millimetres away from brushing Phineas’s lips with her own.

“...... what am I DOING???”

She jolted away from Phineas as if electrified, eyes wide, face burning, heart racing for an entirely different reason than it had been racing only moments ago.

This was bad. This was so bad. This was SO VERY BAD.

Phineas came to his senses the moment Isabella jerked away from him. He blinked, suddenly aware of how close he’d been standing to her, how freaked out she looked now, how close he’d come to....

Oh. Oh no.

This was not good.

Isabella couldn’t stop shaking.

This was bad.

This was so, SO bad.

She’d been all set to slowly ease into forming a relationship with Phineas, to gradually convey her feelings to him.

...so WHY HAD SHE JUST TRIED TO KISS HIM????

THAT WAS THE COMPLETE OPPOSITE OF GRADUAL!!!!!!!!

and….and…….what if it hadn’t even been real at all???

…..oh gosh...what if she’d been in PHINEASLAND???? what if everything today, all the moments they’d shared, had just been daydreams????? Isabella was so discombobulated, she couldn’t discern what was real and what wasn’t at this point.

Well. The way Phineas was staring at her now was real.

Wide eyed. Shocked. Maybe even horrified.

She’d tried to kiss a fantasy of Phineas while singing with the real one. And the real Phineas looked horrified.

Phineas was frozen.

What….how….what had just happened?? ...hOW HAD THAT HAPPENED????

He’d tried to kiss Isabella. Without even realizing it.

He’d gotten so caught up in the song, so swept up in the wonder of being able to honestly express his feelings to her...he’d tried to KISS HER. And she’d freaked out. She’d pulled away.

For a moment, some part of him must have thought that maybe. Maybe. She returned his feelings. Because there were “what if’s” in his heart and because she’d been looking at him lovingly and smiling at him and leaning closer….

But perhaps she’d just been getting into character. Singing the song authentically. Not to him. Not about him. But just. Singing.

Because if Isabella returned his feelings, why would she have pulled away?

Why would she look so horrified now??

...

“....UHM. UH. T-that...that sounded great, Phineas!!”

“Y-yeah!! It sounded awesome!!”

“I think we c-can use that!”

“Y-yup! Same!!”

“Oh, uh! I just remembered I have to uh...uh...do something for my mom, uh—"

“That’s fine!! I can put the finishing touches on the recording! I-I’ll send it to you!”

“Great, great, great. Awesome. Ok. Uh. I’m just going to. Uh. Go now. Uh. Bye!”

“Bye!”

...

Ferb had been sprawled out on the living room couch for the better part of an hour, watching a random documentary about lobsters he’d happened to catch on the nature channel.

Apparently they mated for life!! Who knew?

His attention span was interrupted by the sound of someone on the staircase. He turned his head, and there was Isabella. Running down the stairs. Looking a little flustered.

Had she and Phineas finished their project already? It wasn’t even one o’clock.

“Hey, Isabella! How’s the recording going?”

Isabella didn’t look at him as she crossed the room. She appeared to be in quite a hurry.

“Great! It’s fine! We’re done!”

...something about her seemed off.

“....are you alright?” Ferb asked.

“YUP. I’m fine! Just peachy!! Bye!!!”

(Except she didn’t sound fine. Or peachy.)

And then she was out the door.

….leaving Ferb to wonder what on Earth had happened upstairs.

He took a deep breath before abandoning the lobster documentary, standing from the couch, and slowly making his way up the stairs and into the recording studio to check on Phineas, just in case.

He found his brother sitting in the soundbooth, pressing buttons and fiddling with the computer with a vacant look in his eyes.

...something was definitely wrong.

“....is everything okay?” Ferb asked. “Isabella left in a bit of a hurry.”

Phineas’s expression remained blank.

“......I...I’m pretty sure….I almost kissed her. I….I don’t even know how it happened, we were just singing and….and we were standing so CLOSE to each other and then….and then she got freaked out. She ran away.”

Actually voicing what had just happened made the reality of it all sink in.

Phineas buried his face in his hands and let out an anguished groan.

Ferb patted his brother on the shoulder in an attempt to comfort him.

Internally, though, he was puzzled.

The Isabella he’d grown up with NEVER would have passed up an opportunity to kiss Phineas.

...so why had she done so now?

The answer occurred to Ferb a bit later, when he and Phineas were back in their own room.

...maybe Isabella thought it hadn’t been real at all. (He knew all about the daydreams she used to have when they were younger).

Maybe she’d been as freaked out as Phineas was, was still freaking out...just like Phineas was.

Ferb looked across the room at his brother, who sat on his bed with his head in his hands (looking eerily similar to how he’d looked when he first figured out he had feelings for Isabella), and then glanced down at his phone.

He supposed he might have to break his promise and meddle. Just a bit.

Otherwise, it seemed Phineas and Isabella were never going to realize they loved each other.

....

............................please don't hate me 😅

I'll be posting a few doodles for this chapter (you...uh...you can probably guess which scene I drew👀) and a recording of what Phineas and Isabella's duet sounds like soon, if you'd like to check them out!!!!

Thanks as always for reading, and thanks to @youruinedmylifebynotbeingreal for being a fabulous beta and @dragonairice for drawing an amazing piece of art for a scene in Chapter 5! (you guys should TOTALLY check it out!!!) 

I'll see you soonish for Chapter 7!! :)

Ok also, I can’t take credit for the lobster bit. That was 100% my roommate, LOL. 

[ahatintimepieces]

Maybe something with tardigrade song or the moss ,by Cosmo sheldrake? All his songs are pretty whimsical

Many feelings right now, post-writing, and 1) Never heard this music before this morning and now The Moss is forever embroidered into my being, 2) This got way outta hand and finally 3) THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING THIS I surely hope I captured the whimsy at least a little! Please enjoy!

“Legend has it that the moss grows on the north side of the trees,” Hattie reminded herself as she looked out at the columns of frosted stone, perched on top a giant, frozen wishing well. Or maybe just a well. It was too frozen to tell if golden wishes fell into this well. And it was too frozen to see if there was moss on the crystalline trees.

“Well, legend has it when the rain comes down, all the worms come up to breathe,” a squeaky voice of a dozing, floating raccoon bequeathed.

Hattie looked up, spotting the crown pon on the cap of the raccoon clinging to its pillow. The rift was overrun by these sleeping fellows who whispered in their dreams of fables and things.

“Well, legend has it when the sunbeams come, all the plants, they eat them with their leaves.” Hattie readied herself and leapt forward. The stone column cracked beneath her and began to sink. With a jolt of fear, she immediately jumped to the next one, flying beneath the raccoon who dropped to squash her. She wacked it with her umbrella and pilfered the pon before jumping to a cluster of cold leaves before the stone column crumbled beneath her.

The raccoon fell with the stone and Hattie panted, before catching the shine of the parchment below.

Careful, she descended the stairs of slippery leaves. Her boots scuffed the icy blue branches before she stooped down and gathered the page that was one piece of one puzzle of a forest of spirits and souls and sleepy spiders and dwellers. Swiftly, she tucked the page away and ascended the stairs and stone.

Paying pons in exchange for escaping the ice and moss-less trees, Hattie jumped into the pipe and dropped into a new level, finding shadows trapped in glass vessels.

“Well, legend has it that the world spins round on an axis of 23 degrees,” Hattie breathed. She examined the scene before her with confusion and barely jumped back before an inky-black octopus with waving tentacles emitted a ring of combustion.

“But have you heard the story of the rabbit in the moon?” A smaller shadow asked in a raspy voice as she incapacitated the octopuses and raccoons. “Or the cow that hopped the planets while straddling a spoon?”

Hattie shoved the crown pons into her pocket as the other smaller shadow chimed in, its form looking like a carnivorous plant in one moment before wavering into the form of a dragon with a pointed beak just as its twin.

“Or she, who leapt up mountains while whistling up a tune and swapped her songs with swallows while riding on a broom?” The dragon bloom cooed.

Hattie shook her head, the movement causing her to spy a space in the wall with an opened door. She wandered over to find wooden planks leading down into the center of the structure perched in a murky moor. She jumped down and came to a dark room sparse save for a handful of shelves stacked with books. Another parchment puzzle piece shone but its shine was swallowed by the surrounding shadowy nook. She swiped the storybook page and retreated from the dark, jumping up the steps with calculated arcs.

Before she could reach the final pipe opening with hissing smoke, the middle shadow shaped like a sea serpent with spiraling tail and spiked shadows and short snout spoke.

“Well, we can all learn things, both many and a-few from that old hunched-up woman who lived inside a shoe,” the shadow whispered with a scarlet star blinking where its eyes usually sat black as tar.

Hattie paused, waiting for further explanation but the serpent seemed as petrified as a mask, the shadows shifting behind the curved glass. She dove through the final pipe and came to a raft, adrift in a sea of murky mist with distant trees shivering as if caught in a draft.

Focusing on her task to reclaim her time pieces, she cracked open the violet rift and it shattered along creases with collective whispers of the subconscious forest, asking if she could learn something from the puzzle pieces. Or…

Or the girl that sang by day and by night she ate tear soup,

Or the man who drank too much and he got the brewers’ droop?

The whispers begged her to understand, but the hatted child grabbed her hourglass and disappeared before knowledge could land.

Hattie returned to the forest and gingerly tucked the time piece away. Curious, she took out the pages of the storybook crafted by memories in the rift and went about her day.

Following the cobblestone path, she scanned the title page with a claw mark through a broken heart. A gaggle of subconites trotted over to her, following and asking if she wanted to join them in their game of sharing stories and art. One lifted his mitten hand to his chest, his light glowing as he pressed.

“Come listen, all ye fair maids, to how the moral goes,” he declared dramatically as Hattie mostly ignored him to scan the next page of a prince and a princess holding hands with hearts round their golden crowns, looking proper and prim.

“Nobody knew and nobody knows,” another subconite chimed in while the next chapter showed the princess in her crown meet the children in town covered with masks and hoods standing in rows.

Hattie glanced towards the hooded figures around her, dread welling up as they casually continued their recounting of characters.

“How the Pobble was robbed of his twice five toes, or how the Dong came to own a luminous nose,” the first subconite said while they walked. Meanwhile, the princess saw her prince’s palm clasped with a maiden of strawberry-rose locks.

“Or how the Jumblies went to sea in a sieve that they rowed,” a quiet third subconite sounded like they were smiling as Hattie stared, wide-eyed at the page of the princess’ heart shattering and her tears freezing, all framed by her golden hair.

“And came to shore by the Chankly Bore where the Bong-trees grow.” The girl with the rose-colored braid held up her hand, revealing a coin that might have once fell into a well made for wishing while the prince turned to see his princess fleeing.

“Where the Jabberwocky’s small green tentacles do flow, and the Quangle Wangle plays in the rain and the snow,” a noose dripping blue called from above in a haunting tone, causing the subconites to scatter with child-like screams and leaving Hattie alone.

Hattie stopped walking, steps faltering. Shadow tentacles rose around the green-garbed princess in droves while the prince tried to reach out, desperate to dismiss the princess’ doubt.

Pondering the woods, Hattie trembled, finding the story too terrible to continue. The shadow dragon blooms, the sleeping raccoons, the subconites and the cold, endless night that clung with the clefted moon. The young pilot charted stars, not stories withstanding; how was she to make sense of this pictured misunderstanding?

As if hearing her distress, a shadow appeared with a clasped claws and Cheshire grin. He twisted around her, wondering what was causing the child such chagrin.

Pressing the storybook to her chest, concealing the tale, she appeased, “Legend has it that the moss grows on the north side of the trees.” But nothing grew in the phantom forest. Crinkling her nose, she continued her pleas, “Well, legend has it when the rain comes down, all the worms come up to breathe.”

But the shadow reminded her for breath the dead have no need.

“Well, legend has it when the sunbeams come—”

There was no need in the forest of spirits for the light of the sun.

“—all the plants, they eat them with their leaves…” Hattie trailed off in grief. In a final plea, she said, “Well, legend has it that the world spins round on an axis of 23 degrees.”

The soul Snatcher widened his smile and began to beguile her scientific theses.

“But have you heard the story of the rabbit in the moon?” He dove into the trees and puppeted shadows in a haphazard cartoon. The rabbit looked more like a man sewing cow plushies in a crescent room. “Or the cow that hopped the planets while straddling a spoon?”

Snatcher popped out of the trees and snatched Hattie’s hat, disappearing up in the leaves and forcing her to pursue with grappling hook threaded through the noose.

“Or she, who leapt up mountains, while whistling up a tune,” Snatcher continued, twirling her hat on his finger in an animated loop. “And swapped her songs with swallows while riding on a broom.” He winked, tossing her hat back and summoning her contract to remind her of her tasks.

Hattie furrowed her brows and held out the storybook with memories cruel and true.

“Well, we can all learn things, both many and a-few,” she repeated the morals whispered in the rift as she mused, “from that old hunched-up woman who lived inside a shoe.” She turned the page to reveal the final clue, “Or the girl that sang by day and by night she ate tear soup.”

The phantom froze and the girl gripped the page, both staring at the shadow depicted in his cage. Crown discarded; tears pooled in the eyes of the prince fooled into thinking love over sorrow could rule.

Hattie turned to the ending, the final picture that explained the strictures of the woman in the manor.

Petrified by the page, the phantom swallowed thickly as he added bitterly, explaining the story of jealousy’s cold coup, “Or the man who drank too much and he got the brewer’s droop.”

“Snatcher.” Hattie reached out but the ghost of the prince fled in one fell swoop.

[olicitysecretsanta]

Home for Christmas (You can count on me)

Rated: PG-13 for implied sexy times.

For @trueromantic1 who is enjoying Season 7 and loves Felicity being a Mom to William. This is more of an Oliver-centric canon fic but there is lots of William-Felicity bonding and Oliver-William bonding!

Summary: William is finally coming home from Cambridge and even though Oliver and Felicity have patched things up in time for the holidays, Oliver struggles to reconnect with William after prison. A series of holiday themed moments as the Smoak-Queen family adjusts to their new lives. Mostly fluff with a hint of angst.

December 13th

“You don’t think he’s going to be embarrassed by us do you? Maybe we went a little overboard with the balloons,” Felicity pondered as she untangled the gaggle of red and gold balloons in her hands, just nearly avoiding hitting another woman waiting outside the airport security checkpoint.

“We’re just excited to see him. I’m sure we’re not embarrassing,” Oliver replied, shifting the huge sign that read “Welcome Home William!” as a stream of passengers exited the terminal, trying to peer around them for their son.

“Yeah, because teenage boys aren’t known for being embarrassed by their parents,”

“I’m sure the pile of Christmas and Hanukkah presents under the tree will make up for it. You can barely walk from the front door to the kitchen without tripping over presents. What was in the big silver box anyway?” Oliver had been subtly trying to find out what Felicity had bought for William all week, slightly worried that her gifts would be better. 

William’s first Christmas after Samantha had died had been hard and this year Oliver felt like he had a lot to make up for after being in prison for six months and sending his family into witness protection. Plus William was so different from him at that age it was hard to guess what he would enjoy. But the latest video game console sitting under the tree at home seemed like a safe bet.

“Oh! Cisco was able to hook me up with a prototype drone! Don’t worry, all of the dangerous stuff has been removed but it’s still better than any of the commercial drones on the market,”

“A drone? Damn, that is a good gift, why didn’t I think of that,” He might have to go back to the drawing board and hope he could get another gift before Christmas, Oliver mused before his thoughts were interrupted by a shout.

“Dad! Felicity!” Oliver was sure William had grown at least a few inches as the teen appeared through the crowd.

“Will!

“Hey buddy, we missed you so much!” The signed was abandoned on the floor and one of the balloons floated away to airport ceiling as both adults wrapped their arms around the teen.

“I missed you too, don’t cry dad,” William mumbled against Oliver’s chest.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you,” Oliver replied through watery eyes. “But I thought I’d start making up for lost time by getting pizza for dinner from your favorite place,” finally releasing a bashful looking William.

“Yes! And maybe after we can watch the new season of Doctor Who. Felicity introduced it to me while we were in Hope Springs and I finished catching up but I wanted to watch the new season together!”

“Aww Will, you’re the best binge watching buddy ever. Of course I waited! We can start the first episode tonight,” even Felicity was brushing away a few tears as she swung her arm around Will’s (she could swear) broader shoulders.

“Doctor Who? He’s the space detective one right?”

“He’s a Time Lord, Dad,” William rolled his eyes but Oliver couldn’t be happier, just glad to see this sign of normal teenage behavior in person. Maybe he was a little jealous that William and Felicity had another interest in common but he brushed it off.

They were under witness protection for five months, of course they were going to bond even more. But he was back home now and he’d reconnect with William soon enough.

Let the bonding begin.

December 18th

The Smoak-Queen family had quickly fallen into a routine and Oliver couldn’t remember the last time he had been this happy. William was settling into the new apartment and Oliver had specifically told Dinah that he wouldn’t be pursuing the new Green Arrow until after New Years so he could spend some quality time with his family.  

And Oliver was not looking forward to William going back to school. He would miss sleeping in and then cooking a late breakfast for the three of them. After breakfast they would have family time, going ice skating or to a museum. William and Felicity would keep up a running stream of commentary on whatever scientific or historical exhibit they saw and Oliver was happy to listen to the two of them.

After lunch, they would relax at home or go out to a movie. Today, William had enlisted Felicity to go to the mall for some gifts while Oliver prepared pot roast, William’s favorite home cooked meal.

He was just pulling some homemade rolls out of the oven when Felicity’s new security system alerted him to the two coming off the elevator towards the apartment. Soon they were pushing open the door weighed down with various bags.

“Hey guys, you’re just in time. Pot roast is almost ready,”

“Oh. Sounds great, Dad,” William responded but Oliver caught the subdued tone and disappointed expression on his face.

“What is it, I thought you loved my pot roast?”

“I do! I just thought it was mac and cheese night. It’s Tuesday,” William turned to Felicity as she was adding a few more boxes to the Mount Everest size pile of presents. “You didn’t tell him about mac and cheese night?”

“OK, what’s mac and cheese night?”

“It’s just a tradition we had in Hope Springs. I learned how to make it from scratch so it’s not as unhealthy as it sounds. We knew you would disapprove so we would add different toppings like avocado or salsa.” Felicity explained, looking a little guilty.

But Oliver was touched, if not a little jealous, by this bit of domesticity that his wife and son had shared.

“Well the pot roast will keep for tomorrow night. Why don’t you two show me how to make this famous mac and cheese,” Oliver relented easily as he turned off the oven and moved toward the fridge. He couldn’t help smiling widely at the loud cheers before they both threw their arms around him.

December 20th

The menorah had been lit and the sufganiyot and latkes been eaten. The three had spent a nice evening with a movie marathon after dinner before sending William off to bed when he couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore.

Now Oliver was enjoying cuddling with his wife on the couch, surrounded by gold foil wrappers from chocolate coins and empty popcorn bowls. Oliver was happy that Felicity was sharing his Jewish heritage with his son but this time of year had been hard ever since he came back from the island.

Of course Felicity picked up on his mood. “Hey, whats with the sad face?”

Oliver smoothed his hands down her back to reassure her. “Missing Thea and thinking about my parents. William would have loved to see the mansion at Christmas. Thea and I used to race to see you could finish candy canes the fastest.”

Felicity shifted so she was sitting up and could look at him properly. “I’m sure Thea misses you too. Do you want to go by your parents graves after we take William to Samantha’s this weekend?”

“That’s a good idea. But I still don’t know if I’m ready. My mom loved us more than anything but I’m still angry at her for keeping William a secret from me. I missed out on so many Christmases and William’s been distant ever since he got home. I don’t know if it’s because he misses Samantha or if he’s still mad at me for going away,”

They had talked about his conflicting feelings towards Moira in the past and that just made the holiday even harder for him.

“Well, Moira and I didn’t have the best relationship either but I’m sure she kept an eye on William. Besides, Christmas is about family and being together. We’re both happy you’re home,” she responded pointedly and poking a finger in his ches..

“Hey, I promised I’m not leaving you ever again,” he told her with a kiss to take away her pout. “It was my decision to go to prison, I just didn’t realize how hard it would be to earn his trust back again,”

“He’ll come around just like I did. And we can make our own traditions as a family,” said in between laying kisses down his throat. “We can start with you making love to me under these Christmas lights,”

Oliver hummed at the sensation. “But what if William wakes up?”

“Oh, I put some up in the bedroom too,” she replied with a twinkle in her eyes and a shriek as Oliver lifted her into his arms and practically sprinted towards the bedroom.

December 24th

After his talk with Felicity, Oliver had thrown himself into every holiday activity he could think of, determined to make some new traditions with his family. That’s why the kitchen was currently covered in flour and all of the materials for gingerbread houses. He and William were attempting to build a gingerbread village but it was really a thinly veiled attempt by Oliver to get some more one on one time with William.

“So aside from your classes, I haven’t heard much about Cambridge. Did you like it there?”

“Cambridge was cool. I’ve never been to the East Coast before. Felicity said we could visit colleges there sometime,” he replied absently, his focus on creating a moat around a gingerbread mansion.

William and Felicity might be thinking about colleges but Oliver was definitely not ready to think about the boy going off to college yet. “Maybe in a few years, buddy. Did you make any friends at boarding school?”

“Not really. It’s hard to make friends when you’re living under a fake name and a crime lord is trying to hunt down your family.”

“True,” he admitted. “So there were no cute girls there…or boys?”

Williams eyes widened a bit and he paused. Bingo.

Oliver knew from experience as a teenage boy it was best not to push. And William was shyer than he was at that age and he didn’t want to embarrass his son and risk missing this opportunity to hear more.

“Well…not in Cambridge… but there was someone in Hope Springs…” William ventured tentatively.

“Oh?” The best strategy when you wanted someone to talk was to let them fill the silence.

“H-he was in my art class, he was an exchange student from England and really good at drawing.”

“Ah, artsy types are always very mysterious. So, did anything…,”

“No!” he denied quickly, maybe a little too quickly. “Besides, after Diaz broke in we left so suddenly…”

“I’m sorry son,” Oliver tried to play it cool concentrating on placing gumdrops on the roof of a gingerbread cottage. But internally he was fist pumping and celebrating that William had confided this small but major bit of information in him. Progress!

“Hey, we should take a family vacation to London this summer. My parents took Thea and me when I was about your age,”

“Really?! That would be so cool dad!”

“It’s a plan then.”

After sending William off to his room to clean up Oliver cornered Felicity in their bedroom.

“Felicity!” Oliver rounded on her as she was lounging in bed focused intently on her tablet. “Why didn’t you tell me about the boy?! I knew I missed a lot in prison but this is a big thing you should have told me about!”

She pulled her eyes from the screen to look up her husband who had a streak of flour on his forehead and a giddy look on his face. She frowned. “Oliver, I have no idea what you’re talking about. What boy?”

“They boy William had a crush on in Hope Springs! Wait. He didn’t tell you?” This was even better!

“Will had a crush on someone? No he didn’t say anything about it to me,” Felicity pouted a bit.

“Yes!” Oliver really fist pumped this time.

“Oliver! I’m happy that the two of you bonding but it’s not nice to gloat,”

“Sorry hon, I just got a little over excited that he felt comfortable enough to come out to me,”

Felicity caressed his face (no more beard thank goodness) but looked a bit troubled. “You don’t think he was afraid to tell me do you? This is not good Oliver, I thought William and I understood each other,”

“I’m sure that’s not the reason. He probably just needed some time. I’m sure he would have told you eventually,” he replied pulling her into a hug.

“You’re right, I’m happy he trusted you with this,” she shrugged off her worries before taking advantage for the moment of privacy to kiss her husband.

“Dad? Felicity? You’re not being gross right now are you?”

They pulled away just as William pushed the door open, holding a DVD in one hand.

“Hey Will, what’cha got there?”

“Die Hard. We watched it last year on Christmas Eve. Should I go put it on?”

“It is your Dads favorite,” Felicity covered for Oliver who looked calm but who she could tell was internally freaking out with happiness again.

“Die Hard is the best Christmas movie and a Queen family tradition. You start it up and we’ll get the popcorn,” he motioned toward the door, before pulling Felicity back into his chest as William disappeared to the living room.

“You were right. We just needed to start some new traditions,” he said with a peck to her lips. Oliver knew he was still slowly building back the trust that he had lost but tonight was Christmas Eve and his family was together and starting their own traditions.

“Mmmm, my three favorite words,” she replied impishly. “I think I deserve another gift tonight after William goes to bed,” her words were innocent but the heated look she gave him clued him into what kind of gift she was talking about. Oliver’s response was a heated kiss that caused them both to forget what they were supposed to be doing.

“Dad! Felicity! I know you’re being gross in there!”

“Coming Will!”

“We’ll be right there!” They replied smiling dopily at each other before finally making their way out of the bedroom. Oliver sighed contentedly, taking in the sight of the presents under the tree, the menorah, and his wife and son on the couch as the title credits for Die Hard came on.

Oliver was finally home and he couldn’t be happier

[isempiterna]

𝑆𝑡𝑒𝑎𝑚 𝑃𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝐺𝑖𝑟𝑎𝑓𝑓𝑒: 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑀𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐷𝑜𝑣𝑒

   The year was 1942. Peter Walter I sat in the sun room of Walter Manor, having finally been pried from the basement laboratory at the insistence of his son, Peter Walter II. This had been a common conflict ever since Peter II had grown old enough to realize that his father’s obsession with creating automatons, while a scientific miracle, had gone past the line of unhealthy. Peter I wasn’t keeping track, specifically—he no longer kept track of much, not the number of mechanical beings he created nor how he created them—but as he watched the dusky glow of sunset caress his pale hands, he mused that more often that not, his son would eventually leave in some manner of upset and Peter would remain hunched over one of the many worktables, half-formed mounds of metal and wires drawing him in until they filled his lungs and eyes and mind. Until he hardly felt like a man, himself.

   But this time he had been too tired to resist Peter II’s firm-yet-gentle reprimands. And so he found himself in the cavernous room above the ground, watching the sun take his place below the horizon. Peter I could hardly remember the warmth of sunlight. The beauty of it hurt his eyes, his tired, tired eyes. He knew tiredness, an old and intimate friend, and so it was that he knew that this was a different sort, that things were changing. Time continued passing as was time’s nature. He was dying. 

   Gaze now fixed on the lace-like tops of trees, to the burnished sky beyond, Peter I thought of death. And while briefly he lingered on the slow approach of his own, much like the gradual arrival of night in front of him, he was not afraid, for his death had never concerned him. No, in this hour of ponder with his hands motionless in his lap, away from the haven of his work room where he could armor his mind with metal and rewire it with sparking circuitry, he allowed himself to think, for the first time in years, of Delilah. Beautiful, clever, brilliant Delilah; oh, how he loved her still. As he had a million, no, countless times beyond that, he wished that he only loved her more than his desire to be loved in return. A breath escape him softly, stale and ghosting on memories. He’d forgotten how beautiful the world was, how graceful the trees, how captivating the skies, but he could never forget the beauty of Delilah Moreau.

   The pale figure that appeared at the edge of the slender woods stole whatever breath he might have drawn. It was as though she had been summoned directly from his mind, impossible as it was—although who was he to claim the impossible? But no, the woman standing just shy of the shadows was not entirely true to his memory. For one, Delilah had never been so pale in life; only in death, eyes closed, her hair fanning slightly on the pillow of the sickbed. And that was another difference, for the Delilah he was looking at had short hair, not the long waves of soft ebony he had so admired. And...while she was certainly how he remembered her, she was not how he should know her.

   Peter found himself at the window, somehow, tremors coursing through his old and weary body as his hand, calloused and wrinkled, fumbled with the latch. But she was still young, in her prime, strong and healthy and alive, not dead or dying. And yet as the window swung open, the slight glare of glass separating them removed and he saw her more clearly, there was something new to her. A quiet something, not noticeable like pale skin or hair that brushed her jaw but undeniably there. An undercurrent. A timelessness.

   “Delilah...” he wheezed, still not able to catch his breath. “Delilah?” He could not know if she heard him, only hope, but he hoped with a fierceness that had him believing it to be true. “Delilah, I...” Whatever he was going to say trailed off before he could even know what it was. She would not stay; he knew it like he knew that she really was Delilah who had died, been dead for years. Or, not so dead, it seemed. Whatever he said now would truly be the last thing he ever said to her.

   For a handful seconds hoarded into eternity the two simply looked at each other, her eyes so bright and clear they were almost glowing and his, dimmed and only fading further. He had lived his life, and she...she had found another. 

   And just like that, Peter suddenly knew there was nothing to say. True, he loved her still and would never stop loving her to his last breath, but this was not her life anymore. He did not know this Delilah, not for lack of wanting but simply for lack of time; even if she stayed, they could never return to their old relationship of colleagues, much less achieve a new one. He had a son, a family he had built with his own hands, years of memories without her. What Delilah had he did not know, but he didn’t want to give her the burden of an old man, a reminder of a past that was long since covered in dust and buried. This was not a reunion; this was a goodbye.

   So Peter smiled. He smiled bigger than he had ever smiled before, until it felt like it covered his whole face, until his eyes were almost closed so tightly that all the moisture was being squeezed out to trickle down the lines of his cheeks. He smiled with all the strength and determination and wonder that had lead him to his path in life, to discover and create new life in ways only dreamed of. He smiled like the rising sun, and she smiled back, small and peaceful and mysterious.

   And then she was gone before he could realize it, fading back into the secret darkness of the night. The light was but a lingering glow of an ember ready to sleep. And for the first time, he felt no sense of loss. For the first time in a long time, Peter I felt awake, clear of mind and inspired with the bubbling energy that drove him all those years ago. He felt invigorated. He needed to work. Not to distract or avoid or forget, but because his thoughts were crashing together and sparking and on the verge of exploding; they were buzzing and he needed to create. 

   Peter II’s voice floated from somewhere behind him, asking if everything was okay. The elder Walter turned from the window, strode across the room to his son to grip his shoulders with metal-toughened hands. He could still feel remains of the smile on his mouth, see the surprise in his son’s face, a spark of hope in his eyes.

   “I have an idea, Junior.” The nickname was old, from a time when Peter II still fell of his bike and dropped his ice cream, when Peter I had managed to rouse himself from his self-imposed prison to taste again the joys of life. It had not been used in many years. “And I want you to work with me.”

   The Mourning Dove was built with the original idea of being a new addition to the band once the others returned from the war. However, as the war struggled on, plans were changed and The Mourning Dove was modified to be a medical unit to be sent to join the war. Given a titanium alloy skeleton to help withstand the dangers of war (as well as hollow compartments in her legs and arms to store medical supplies, small gas canister chambers in her lower rib cage, and a variety of medical and mechanical tools in her hands and wrists) it was not long after she woke that she was sent across seas. It was the first and last that she ever saw her creator.

   The first time she and her siblings ever met was on the battlefield; along with the medical treatment files for humans, Peter I had also added a large file containing all the information she would need to help maintain her fellow automatons. Because she did not have the necessary additions to be a weapon she quickly grew closest to The Jon due to the medical support he would often assist in, though it was inevitable that they all grew to love each other simply because that was how their Pappy made them.

   When the war finally ended and the bots were returned home they were finally allowed the time to get to know each other in peace. Those were good years, if not perfect, touched with the sad passing of Judith and ever-shadowed by the loss of Peter I. But it was a shared loss, and the robot siblings pulled together to support each other, and they were surrounded by the loving members of Walter Manor.

   Five years later, that peace was shattered. Rabbit’s power core was stolen by the Walters’ competitor Becile, and with it The Mourning Dove. Although Rabbit’s core was eventually recovered at a terrible price, The Mourning Dove was never found, and it was assumed she was destroyed in the blast along with Peter II and Guy Hottie.

   In fact, The Mourning Dove survived, though she would remain in stasis in the space-time continuum for many years to come. With the rift still open she was trapped there, unable to settle fully in any world, and it wasn’t until it was closed by Peter VI that her existence was finally able to stabilize. Unfortunately, she would not be found until some years later by a particularly adventurous and not-quite-law-abiding mechanic.

   After being brought home by Lark, many weeks are spent laboriously fixing up the damaged bot. The various dings, dents, scuffs and scratches are easily dealt with, but the deep gouge in her lower back resulted in a partially severed spinal column which would require an entirely new replacement. Without that kind of money or material on hand, Lark had to settle for installing new oil and hydraulic lines, circuit cables, and fixing up as many little things as she could to make the eventual spine replacement easier. During this time The Mourning Dove was left in stasis, as she would only be shut down again for all the necessary repairs.

   Finally, however, Lark had done all that she could, and it was with great anticipation that she started up the Walter automaton. Once online, though, only more problems were discovered. At some point, or perhaps slowly over time, a total data scramble had occurred; some files were erased either partially or fully and many more were locked, and a small corruption in her processing hard-drive would short her out every time she tried to retrieve them. Essentially, The Mourning Dove was experiencing amnesia. When asked her name she could not remember, and it was only Lark’s introduction that prompted a vague feeling that it had something to do with birds as well. Immediately after that she was dubbed Sparrow.

   It was at this time that Lark’s previous decision began to waver—for while she had known that this was a Walter bot and should rightfully be brought back to her original home, the mechanic had been dreaming for so long of the wonders that were the robots that she couldn’t help but desire to keep her, just long enough to learn more about how she worked both as a machine and as a person with a unique soul. At first Lark had planned to fix her and befriend her before returning her home (and perhaps even acquire a job as a Walter mechanic), but with the new revelations she became unsure. A selfish part of her realized that with the lack of memories it would be all too easy to keep her for good, but Lark squashed it quickly, unsettled by the thought. And then there was the problem of the replacement spine; it would take Lark a good while of hard saving before she could fully repair the bot, but with the help of Walter Robotics it would be a cinch. 

   However, unbeknownst to either party, the trouble runs even deeper yet. In the casing that holds Sparrow’s Blue Matter core there is a small, hairline crack. Perhaps it wouldn’t have been a problem had she been recovered at the same as Rabbit’s core, but it’s been over 50 years since then, nearly all of which has been spent stuck in the limbo of the space-time continuum. This lead to a fundamental alteration in her Blue Matter linking to the space-time continuum, which eventually becomes a next-level can of worms.

   Due to the link, there is a constant trickle of unknown energy bleeding through the core. As more energy gathers and builds up it becomes unstable, and eventually a rift will open, pulling Sparrow and anyone too close to her into another part of the world, a different world entirely, and sometimes a completely different dimension. It has also affected her hard-drive, allowing her to occasionally receive random data from anywhere: the future, the past, information that should be impossible for anyone to access, or even data from other worlds. This technopathy is independent of her will and a rare occurrence; however, there is a possibility that she could induce it with extensive practice, willpower, and focus. Using it consciously would come at a steep price with dangerous side effects, though, such as increased susceptibility to unknown viruses (including real diseases translated into viruses), as well as creating back doors for anyone/thing that might attempt to breach her system. Consciously inducing it also raises the traceability, whereas when it’s random it’s nigh untrackable.

[envisionourfuture]

The Continuum

Our purpose is to live, survive. Unfortunately to survive is understood so sub-perior than to live and yet, to live does not say enough.

As we are, the mindset of the masses today, we are doomed. Doomed. Definitely doomed. It is not for lack of bright people but, for lack of focus and not for general lack of focus, for lack of specific focus. You see, if we do not care to survive we are certainly doomed.

The continuum is every possible future eventuality. History, you understand, is what has been. The present moment precisely is what is. What will be is every possibility, not just of every conceivable choice but of every possibility. Every single possibility, whether ever thought of or considered or mused in every combination of every possibility. That is what we see looking forward down the continuum.

Many things are fixed so to speak. The planets, for example, are in orbits. Similarly the stars in our galaxy, the galaxies in our universe and presumably the universe inside the cardboard tube that God decided to unfold the continuum within, sorry, the universe within the passage of time. Many things are not fixed.

There is debate whether free thought  proven is sufficient to overcome the statements of causality. The scientific statements of the brain make it a series of trained electrochemical responses but, I will not try and describe the mind the same way. A thinking, feeling, sensory multiplex with multi-control outputs. Not to be off topic but to be understood - you can move your arm at will consciously and, your arm can sping up in front of you without thought or consideration as a reflex, no different to the primal behaviour of animals.

Our behaviour is not and should not always be instinctive since we have a mind to think and conscious thought. To be effective we need to be informed and to make decisions. Ponderation is well to allow our mind to osmose connected facts and that precedes extrapolation, a form or prediction. Our behaviours and the results of those are by no means fixed.

Where we have been wrong as thinkers, largely, up until now, is to consider the continuum from only a few local perspectives. That of our own, that of others, that of groups of others, and also ourselves, all to fulfil primal behaviour and personal want. Intelligent perhaps if it helps us to solve the problems of our surroundings but not intelligent. Nowhere near intelligent enough to begin to solve the actual largescale problems we face.

I already said that we are doomed and I am no “doomsayer”  but, a realist. You think the problems you face in your life are big? Where to sleep, where to get a meal? Perhaps you have acclimated the first few Maslow levels and are a “big” thinker - unemployment, the future of our children, retirement plans? Great if you are able to master those, in your lifetime you might just have an easy life, hopefully, and enjoyable but no-where near “BIG” thinker yet. To get to that you need to think of generations.

Your children, their children and your children’s children's children can all benefit from your forethought. There are many ways they may benefit, none of which are the subject. What I really want is for you to exceed being a “BIG” thinker and be a “GREAT” thinker but, after so many generations, what for that? The answer is the continuum.

Given a fairly consistent set of parameters we are able to make reasonable predictions with practice. Some gifted individuals are even able to escape the traps of our computational mind to understand a Monty Hall problem without needing to play one-hundred series to understand the likely outcomes. Iced yo-yo biscuit perhaps? So, given every fixed and likely and possible eventuality of the continuum, the great problem is how to escape.

We must escape Earth. We must escape the Solar System and we must escape the Galaxy.

Let us begin at the far end of that sequence and work our way back. The Milky Way galaxy will eventually collide with the Andromeda galaxy. There is no point really assigning blame, the collision is expected to happen in approximately 4.5 billion years. The upheaval and the sheer disturbance to both galaxies is inconceivable. Try running a rudimentary simulation in Universe Sandbox 2 (Steam) and just let your jaw drop. We must escape, it is a long way off and we have time to prepare albeit it is possible we may learn to travel their first before we travel further afield.

The sun is eventually going to flambay the planets. Expected in approximately 4~5 billion years, Sol is anticipated to expand so much as it runs out of core hydrogen that it will engulf first Mercury, then Venus and, likely Earth also.

"Even before it becomes a red giant, the luminosity of the Sun will have nearly doubled, and Earth will receive as much sunlight as Venus receives today." ~Wikipedia|Sun

We must escape the Solar system, we must escape the Galaxy and in order to do that we must escape Earth. That is the problem of generations. That is the problem of survival and that is why we are so futile thinking about whether or not to co-operate with other nations. Just co-operate, accept who we each are, live with our borders and get our global focus onto something that is going to set us up (eventually) for interstellar success.

-HRjJ

[missymarysthings]

Out of the Ordinary

“Well aren’t you a handsome one?” the orange haired woman commented after being greeted to the café by Kairos. “More of a cute handsome really. But if you could be a doll and get the owner for me I would appreciate that,“ she added. 

“Please have a seat miss, and I will go see if I can get her for you,“ Kairos said with a little bow before heading toward the back. He was a little confused, however. This woman felt like a Richter, but did not seem to display the usual family traits. Her eyes were green instead of the blues the family were more known for. Her hair color was trivial, but her facial features...well perhaps they belonged more to her non-Richter parent. Now wasn’t the time to ponder too deeply about it, however. That would be for his notes later. 

The woman took a seat in one of the booths while she waited for her fellow orange head to appear. She crossed one leg over the other as she glanced around the café. A gentle chuckle came from her lips. “Even if I didn’t already know, this place certainly has Felicia’s touch all over it,” she said with amusement in her tone. “As cozy as I remember her hospitality being.”

Felicia paused in her batter stirring and raised a brow when Kairos told her of the woman asking to see her. There wasn’t many people she knew that would fit that description, but normally she would have heard some word beforehand. “Lily, be a dear and finish making these muffins for me. Kairos, thank you, you can head back out front now. I’ll go see my visitor,” she said. 

“It was no problem miss Felicia,“ Kairos said with a little bow and smile before heading out front. Lily did a little salute before coming over to the bowl. 

“You got it auntie! An’ I’ll handle any orders that come back while you’re out talking as well,” she said cheerfully. Her aunt nodded before stepping out of the back herself. 

It did not take long for the owner of the Red Moon to spot her caller. She went over to the booth and leaned against it for a moment. “Viv? Rys didn’t tell me that you were going to be in town. I would have had some of your favorites prepared for you,” she said before sliding into the booth across from Vivian. Felicia was a bit surprised to see her, but at least she was looking well. “How dare you catch me unaware, Vivian,” she added with a fake insulted tone as she lightly crossed her arms.

Vivian put on a sly grin and raised a well manicured finger. “Of course big brother didn’t tell you. Big brother doesn’t know I’m here,” she proclaimed with a chuckle and pointed at Felicia. “You have the honor of being the first to know!”

“Is that right?“ Felicia said and chuckled a little herself. “Unlike you to just slip back into town quietly. Something must be up. Did something go wrong overseas?“

Vivian watched as Felicia raised, what she would call, the ‘big sister’ brow and expression to match. Viv lowered her finger and crossed her own arms for the moment. “Always with the good intuition eh, Felicia dear? Well...I suppose it’s a smidge complicated,” she said. 

“A smidge?“ Felicia questioned skeptically as her eyes slowly trailed to Viv’s left hand. Vivian scoffed a little as she subtly moved her left hand and the rings upon it glinted in the light. She then looked towards the wall next to their booth.  

“Hmm...I suppose you wouldn’t have been the renowned scientist and chemist that you were if you weren’t astute in your observations as well,” Viv mused. “Truly, the scientific community is missing one of its greats. Wish you could teach a thing or two to some of the incompetents I work with these days...”

“Perhaps, if you didn’t get tempted by ’misguided‘ ambitions...you could at least still be working with my dear Izzy and some of our other old colleagues,” Felicia countered, deep in her big sister/motherly tones. “But. We are not talking about me or that right now Vivian. Unless that wedding ring on your finger has something to do with that.” 

Felicia uncrossed her arms, with slightly narrowed eyes, to start drumming the fingers of one hand on the table. Vivian expected part of this, but she still had a moment of feeling small when she looked back at Felicia. Especially with the look of disapproval clearly on the older woman’s face. Viv sighed and started drumming her own fingers in return. 

“Yes and no. But I don’t want to keep you for too long-”

“Lily, Kairos, and Elthea have things well covered for me for the kind of business we’ve been getting today,” Felicia quickly interrupted. “Speaking of which...Elthea?“

“Yes miss Felicia?“ Elthea said as she came over.

“Could you please get a glass of iced sweet tea for me,” Felicia began and then glanced at Viv. “And one medium coffee with two sugars, a splash of milk, two squirts of the vanilla, one of the caramel, with once of our cinnamon sugar sticks sticking in it and a quick swirl of whipped cream. If you feel overwhelmed with the coffee order have Lily make it,“ she said. Elthea nodded as she finished writing down the order. With a quick ‘I’ll be back’, she left the two older women to their conversation and went towards the back.

“Of course you would still remember how I like my coffee, and with the twist you’d always give it for me. Rys thinks I’ve kicked coffee drinking. Silly big brother, so if you can keep this little treat between you and I, I would appreciate it, Viv said. Felicia nodded but then looked at Vivian expectantly, not content to let the younger woman leave until she got some explanations. Vivian sighed softly and ran a hand through her curls. “Where do I even begin Felicia?” she asked, though rhetorically. Her usual confidence was lacking in her tone now.

Vivian clasped her hands together on the table as she began to share some of the details of her situation. Updating her ‘big sister’ figure on some things since the last time she was in town. Though on some of the more scientific things...she didn’t say too much about for now. However, then she started to talk about the rings on her finger and the man that put them on her. 

His name? Atticus Quartet. He is a rich investor who is one of the backers for the group she works for. He also seems to have a thing for red/orange haired women. He has his charms to be sure but...

“Sometimes he can be so...boring and inattentive. He doesn’t really understand the finer points of science; seems to care more about the results. But...he had been intriguing and seemed quite cultured at first. It was only supposed to be a fling. Long enough to make sure he would still be an investor and then be able to break it off gracefully. That way he wouldn’t take back the money for research and resources out of anger or spite,” she explained. Viv sighed again and looked at her wedding rings.

“What was I thinking? Getting married to that man. Ha. What a mistake. It was a quick Vegas wedding. Tsk. Me? Me. Not having a decent wedding with my family and select choice of people?“ Viv shook her head before continuing. “One too many drinks and charming, seductive words led to me being Vivian Quartet. How could I tell big brother that over the phone?“

“If you regret your irrational decision, why haven’t you mentioned divorce?” Felicia questioned.

“That’s the other thing,” Vivian said as she took out her phone. “Thanks to this little marriage...I have a stepson, and we get along quite well,” she continued and pulled up a picture of the young lad and showed it to Felicia. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I would think he is yours. Your hair and eyes nearly match,” Felicia commented. 

“Uncanny isn’t it? If I didn’t know any better....” Viv started but then trailed off in thought, bringing a hand to her chin. She shook her head. “No...that would be impossible. I was still living here when he was born,” she mused to herself more than her friend. “But anyway...for the moment he is why I’m still with Atticus for now. His name is Velius, by the way. He actually came with me, but he’s exploring the other nearby shops at the moment. Explaining all this to big brother Rys is going to be...complicated,” Viv said and sighed once more before taking a big sip of her coffee.

“Even more so since Velius looks so much your child, correct?“ Felicia guessed. Vivian nodded. The owner of the Red Moon sighed herself and rubbed at her right temple while taking her glasses off at the same time. “Vivian, I really thought we guided you better than this...“ she murmured. 

“Richter blood, remember? Stubbornness is in my DNA. Some things...I just had to do my own way regardless,“ Vivian said quietly in return and looked at her nails. 

“Stubborn in both good and bad ways,“ Felicia commented with another sigh. “By the way...your nephew Felix has finally gotten me dear Angeline to date him for real,“ she said and chuckled a little. ”My stubborn daughter...being dense to her feelings being almost like her father. Ah how I could sympathize to Felix and his feelings.“

“My, my~! What else have I missed? I could pull Felix’s ear for not telling me! He should still have my number after all,” Vivian said. 

“You do realize the hypocrisy in what you just said, right?“ Felicia said. Vivian looked to the side for a moment.

“Mine is not something so simply said over the phone Felicia...you know that,“ she said quietly. “But...I should have visited sooner to say something. I’ll give you that. There...was a project I had to finish my part of first before I could...before I was allowed to leave for vacation. And before you ask, no, I’m not allow to say anything about it right now,” she said. 

Felicia sighed once more as she put her glasses back on and took a sip of her tea. She had a bad feeling about all this right now, and her instincts were usually on point. “You never should have left to go work for those people Vivian,” she said in her soft motherly tone. “Now...it seems like you’re too tied to them...” Felicia trailed off and took the younger woman’s hand and squeezed it. “Viv...I can’t protect you from here. And you know me, from what you told me, I’m going to worry more about you.”

“You worry too much Felicia. I’ll be...fine. But...can I ask you something? Don’t you miss it? Making breakthroughs, finding new solutions, advancing science and chemistry? You were in your prime Felicia!”  Vivian responded. “Your name was becoming-“

“Vivian...please,“ Felicia interrupted. “I never cared about fame. I was purely about the science, making improvements, advancements, making a difference towards the good for everyone,“ she said as she let go of Vivian’s hand. “Yes I miss it. I will admit that. I miss the problem solving and putting my knowledge of chemicals to the test. I miss the experimentation, making a hypothesis and testing it. I miss trying to find a way to link what I was working on to something that was helping Iruel’s research and endeavors,” she continued and brought a hand to her heart. 

“I miss working alongside my husband, I miss working with Yukio before he left, I miss working with some of our other colleagues. I do, I really do Viv. But! It would have been so irresponsible of me to continue working once we found out I was pregnant with Angeline. Izzy and I were in agreement of that. The things I was working with at the time...who knows how it might have affected her development. Or if I would have lost her because of it,“ she continued.

“I wanted to raise our daughter, and then a couple a of years later...we were blessed with our dear Helios. Science will always be one of my passions, but our children...they were our future, our legacy. If I could raise them to be good people, do good in the world...it would mean just as much as what I had contributed to science,“ Felicia said and lowered her hand from her heart.

“But they can care for themselves now, and they have turned out to be swell people and have minds for science themselves. So...why the café instead of going back to science? I...I’m sorry Felicia but I don’t understand that one,” Vivian said.

“I still contribute in little ways Vivian. When Izzy is stuck on something, I help him figure out what it was when I can. When I notice he’s getting burnt out or running on fumes, or passed out at his desk at home, I go over his work meticulously. Check his equations and logic and fix what his tired mind either missed or made errors in,” Felicia began to answer. 

“It is...not the same, but knowing I have still helped my dear husband gives me some satisfaction. As for the café? You should know Viv, cooking and baking have always been equal passions to science and chemistry for me. Just look around Vivian. Look at my customers, see how content and comfortable most of them are here. How they enjoy the things my employees and I have made. What I do here, is for the community. A place for anyone to come and relax for a short time, or a long one. To enjoy handmade treats; a place to feel safe and unwind. 

And...though it may not be likely at this point in our lives, if Izzy and I should have another child, I do not have to completely abandon this. And when I am unable to come here, my dear Angie can. And if not her, Helios. And if both cannot? Elthea, Lula, Kairos, and Lily can run this place without me if necessary. This is what I do now. What I contribute to good. I miss being in the thick of science, yes, but I also love what I do now. Both are as much as part of me as the other,“ she finished.

“I suppose there was always a reason I admired and looked up to you when I was younger,“ Vivian commented. “It’s...almost a shame you’re so much older than me. Or else at the time Iruel would have had me as competition for your love. We could have still been doing science together all this time, and maybe have been talking about adopting children now...” she mused with a little grin and wink. “You definitely would have been a better wife to me than Atticus is a husband right now. Ah, cruel fate.“

“I don’t know Viv...you would have fared better than your cousin Alphonse to be sure. However...my feelings for Izzy were quite...stubborn, even if I didn’t think he’d return them,” Felicia said. ”In either event...you should tell Velius to come in so I can meet him. And if I didn’t already know that Ryszard is busy helping at the bakery today, I would call him to come here so you two could talk privately in one of my special rooms in the back. However, I will offer to be there with you when you do tell him, just to be a nearby comfort.”

“Thanks Felicia, I...would actually appreciate that. This will probably be the most nervous I have ever been to tell my big brother something. For once I am uncertain how he’ll react, and there’ll be no pulling those cute ‘little sister‘ charms for it either...ach,” Viv said and then pulled up her stepson’s number in her phone. “But let me call Veli and see where he is, and we’ll go from there.”