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Chapter Text

Ferb had helped him get a data feed from Tatooine Traffic Control's entry database, and now it had just gone off; the Centennial Chihuahua was stopping in for the first time since Isabella had dropped them off three weeks earlier.

She'd said she didn't know when she'd be back. She confused him in an enthralling way; sometimes she'd be cold and distant, and then she'd kiss him and their bodies pressed together like there was nothing she wanted more than to be with him.

Regardless, he wanted to spend more time with her. He'd have to take what opportunities he could.

"Ferb, I'm heading in to Mos Eisley. Looks like the Chihuahua is coming down in Bay 71 again."

Ferb raised an eyebrow and cocked his head.

"Sure, I'd love for you to come along. You stopping at the cantina?" Phineas asked.

Ferb nodded.

"Vanessa performing again?" Phineas asked with a grin.

Ferb blushed and nodded.

"Sounds great. Let's go."

Isabella had just finished offloading her cargo when the farmboy stuck his triangular head into the docking bay.

"Hey, Isabella," he said with a big grin.

"Let me guess," she asked with a raised eyebrow, "You were just passing by and happened to notice my ship?"

He walked in toward her. "Nope. I'm pulling a feed from traffic control to let me know when you're here. Meeting up with you is too important to leave to chance."

Lovely. Just what I need. My own little welcoming committee. I swear, he's like a puppy. A cute little puppy I just want to hug and snuggle and...

She smiled at him. "That's fine. I need to meet with someone in an hour or so, but we can hang out until then."

He stepped up to her, tipping her chin up and gently kissing her. "I'm sure we can find something to do," he whispered.

Isabella smiled as she took the Centennial Chihuahua into hyperspace, outbound from Tatooine. She hadn't really expected Phineas to come find her again, but she wasn't about to complain. He was still cute.

And it wasn't like she'd deliberately stopped at Tatooine to see if he'd show up. It had just been a convenient stop between Christophsis and Molavar. Not that she'd really needed to stop there, but it was nice to have a break occasionally.

Whatever. This wasn't a relationship. This was just friendship that happened to involve making out. That was fine. She'd promised herself not to care about anyone, but friendship with limited benefits wasn't a problem.

Now that she had that sorted out in her head, she started planning out where to go after Molavar. A trip to Llanic would be profitable, and probably require a stop at Tatooine on the way through. Not that that was why she'd do it, of course.

She'd just dropped off a load of cargo on Llanic when Pinky quietly slipped into the docking bay.

"What can I do for you?" she asked.

He pulled out a small translation box and typed into it. "I need transport back to Kabal," the box spoke emotionlessly. "The Imperials are trying to find me. Are you willing to help me get away?"

"Sure. Get on board while I line up my next cargo."

They were outbound when the Imperial customs corvette hailed them. Isabella quickly scanned her surroundings, and found an interdictor cruiser lying in her best path to hyperspace.

"They must really want you bad," she said as she cut the engines.

Pinky nodded sadly. He typed a bit, and the box said, "I'm sorry I got you mixed up in this."

"Nah, we'll be fine. How good are you at pretending to be an ordinary pet?"

Quickly, Pinky took off his fedora and dropped to all fours, barking mindlessly.

"Let's hide the fedora," Isabella said, placing it and the translation box behind a hidden panel near the cockpit. "And hope they don't bring the heavy scanners on-board."

After a tense few moments, the customs cutter connected to the docking hatch. Two stormtroopers stepped through, weapons ready, followed by an officer. The officer scanned the inside of the ship with his piercing blue eyes, peeking out from under his grey uniform cap. Two more stormtroopers brought up the rear.

Pinky began to shake, and Isabella patted the little dog to calm him. "What can I do for you?" Isabella asked.

"We're investigating the escape of a Rebel spy, but we’re unsure what kind of animal they were using this time," the officer said. "Did this dog have a fedora or some other sort of uniform? They hide all sorts of useful tools and devices in them."

Isabella looked down at Pinky, puzzled. "No, he's just a dog."

"We'll see about that. Are there any hidden compartments on this ship?" the officer asked. "If you confess now, we can go easy on your punishment."

Isabella shook as if terrified, then took a deep breath. "Okay. There is one hidden compartment. I'll show it to you."

She led them over to the side of the cargo bay, where she pressed in and opened a small panel. The officer rushed over and pulled out a box of Firestar Girl cupcakes.

"Cupcakes?" the officer asked.

"I've had issues getting them through customs before," Isabella said. "Customs officers seem to like confiscating them."

"Indeed," he replied, looking at the box of cupcakes hungrily. "Well, these aren't on your manifest, so I'm afraid I'm going to have to keep them. Thank you for your cooperation; there will be no further penalty. Troopers, let's return to the ship."

Once the customs cutter had undocked and signaled that they were clear to go, Isabella and Pinky simultaneously let out deep breaths.

"You would not believe how many problems a hidden box of cupcakes can get you out of," Isabella said as she entered the coordinates into the navicomputer.

After several jumps to avoid being followed, they'd arrived at Kabal, where the Rebel Alliance was involved in negotiations. Pinky escorted her into a small room where a petite young woman with long brown hair waited.

"Thank you for your assistance, Isabella. I'm Leia Organa. It's nice to meet you; my father spoke highly of you."

Isabella nodded her head. "Thank you. He was a great man. I was sorry to hear about Alderaan; my condolences on your losses."

Leia pursed her lips and nodded. "Would you be willing to keep working with us, similar to what you used to do for my father? We can't pay quite as well, but we'll do what we can."

Before Isabella could answer, a familiar man in a black vest hurried in. "Your worshipfulness, I...hello, Isabella. What brings you here?"

"Just doing a job, Solo. Why are you still here?"

"Han's been helping us out in his own way," Leia said.

"Why do you need her?" Han asked, insulted. "I can deliver things just as quickly."

"Unlike you, she doesn't have a price on her head," Leia said calmly.

Han glared at Isabella, then turned to Leia. "When you're done here, Luke has some ideas on that thing we talked about."

"Fine. I'll be done here in a couple minutes." Leia watched Han as he left the room, then shook her head and turned back to Isabella. "So, are you interested?"

Isabella took a deep breath and nodded. "I'm in."

"You got a message from some Skywalker dude," Candace said as Phineas and Ferb got back home from another trip to Mos Eisley. "Wants you to go check out some hermit's place."

"It's probably Ben Kenobi's house," Phineas said.

"That sounds right," Candace agreed. "He thinks there may be Jedi historical artifacts there."

"Makes sense. Shall we, Ferb?" Phineas asked.

Ferb shook his head. "You go on. I need to rest for a bit."

"I told you to be careful how much you drank there," Phineas said with a smile. "How about you, then, Candace? Want to come along?"

"No, I have a date in an hour."

Phineas and Ferb raised their eyebrows simultaneously.

"Okay, that was creepy," Candace said. "Anyway, Jeremy, the guy two farms over, asked me if I'd like to go watch the sunsset with him."

"Huh. Sounds cool. Jeremy's a nice guy, I hope you have a good time."

Phineas got in the landspeeder and headed off toward Ben Kenobi's hut.

The suns were just starting to set when Phineas arrived. He snapped on a glowrod as he entered the dimly-lit structure.

"If I were a Jedi artifact, where would I be?" Phineas asked himself, looking around. The place looked just as Ben had left it - well-organized and neat, with a small kitchen to one side and a moderately-sized living area.

Use the Force, Phineas, a well-known voice whispered in his mind.

Phineas closed his eyes and let the Force flow through him. A sense of presence led him into the living area, to an empty area on the floor. Looking carefully, he could see the seam of a trap door.

"Jackpot," Phineas said. "Now, how do I open it?"

He looked around but didn't see a handle or pull ring anywhere. The seam was far too small for his fingers to get into. He frowned at it, idly fingering his lightsabre.

He shook his head. Of course, it was obvious. He reached out with the Force, lifting up on the trap door from below. It swung open easily, revealing a staircase down.

The basement lights turned on as he went down the stairs, white walls shining brightly. To one side he could see a generator, busily lighting the room; on the other side, a workbench held the tools to make lightsabers. Phineas figured Luke would want to know that, so he noted it in his memo pad.

Shelves to one side held reader pads; a quick check showed Ben's financial records and notes on Luke's childhood, observed from afar. On the bottom shelf he found three small cubes; as he picked one up, it told him in his mind that it was a holocron, and held knowledge of the Jedi.

He quickly scooped it up, along with its two companions, and carried them out to his speeder. The lights turned out as he lowered the trap door back into place. He sealed up the door behind him, climbed into the speeder, and headed home.

"These are quite useful, Phineas," Ferb said, studying one of the holocrons. "Thank you."

“I sent Luke a message that I’d found them. He’ll probably want a look at them as well.”

Candace stuck her head into the garage. “Another message from the Skywalker dude. He says he’s sending someone to pick them up. Meet them in Chalmun’s Mos Eisley cantina a week from Tuesday.”

“Aw. That means I’ll have to miss Mom’s tacos,” Phineas said.

“We must all make sacrifices for the good of the galaxy,” Ferb said.

Isabella strode into Chalmun’s cantina, nodding to Wuher, the bartender. She grabbed a juice box and headed back toward her usual booth. It was occupied, and she was about to start arguing with the person there when she realized that it was Phineas.

“You need to go, farmboy,” she whispered. “I’m meeting someone here.”

“Sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t realize you were on-planet. I bet the feed updated just after I left. Anyway, I’m supposed to meet someone as well.”

She sat in the booth, glaring at Phineas. “Let me guess. You’re supposed to meet them in this booth?”

He nodded. “Sorry. I didn’t pick the place.”

“So how are you supposed to identify them? Some stupid passphrase?”

“Yeah, it’s a pickup line. ‘Your eyes shine like Tatooine’s suns’.”

Isabella dropped her juice box; it bounced on the table, landing on its side and leaking slightly. “Oh, drat. That explains it. ‘Your eyes are as dark as Sullust’s caves.’”

Phineas’s eyes lit up. “Oh! Yeah, that makes sense. Luke sent you? Here you go.” He handed her a box; glancing inside she saw some data pads and a few odd cubes.

“Thanks, farmboy,” she said with a smile. “Want to walk me back to my ship?”

“I’d love to,” he said.

Chapter Text

1 ABY (Age 14)

Django laughed. "You have a girlfriend, Phineas? Seriously?"

Phineas sat back against the wall of the repair bay at Tosche Station. "Well, sort of a girlfriend. It's...complicated. We've been seeing each other for about a year now."

"So when do we get to meet her?" Irving asked. "Where is she?"

"She's a pilot. Has her own ship, a freighter. She's not here that often - stops in every few weeks. She just left, actually."

Django rolled his eyes. "Let me guess. She's from Kan'daraan. And the two of you spend all your time together making out when she's here, right?"

"I don't know what planet she's from actually," Phineas said. "But, yeah, she's only here for a few hours at a time usually. Ferb, you've seen her, tell them I'm not making her up."

"She flew us to Alderaan, and then back from Yavin IV," Ferb said quietly.

"Yeah, right," Irving said. "Like you were really at Yavin IV."

Phineas bristled. "Come on, Ferb, let's get our power converters and go."

Phineas sat up a bit on the couch of the Centennial Chihuahua , and Isabella followed. "What's wrong, Phineas?" she asked quietly.

"I...would you be willing to do me a favor?"

Her eyes hardened a bit. "Depends what it is."

"Can you spare a few hours to come meet my friends? They don't believe you exist."

"...why would they not believe I exist?”

“They don’t think I have a girlfriend.”

She sat up fully, looking down at him. “Wait, you think I’m your girlfriend?”

“I...” He looked up at her, confused. “I just assumed...I mean, you stop by and we meet up and make out for a bit. I know it’s not quite a boyfriend/girlfriend thing, but it’s as close as we can get right now.”

"And now you want to parade me in front of your friends like a trophy?"

"No! I'd like for you to meet them. And I'd like to get to know you in ways other than, well, hugging and kissing you. Not that I mind hugging and kissing you! That's really nice."

She sighed. "I...” She paused, and looked at him. A hint of a smile crossed her face. “Fine."

"That'd be great! Thanks!"

Isabella sat in the landspeeder, looking around at Tatooine. It didn't have much to recommend it. She'd always thought that one planet looked like any other, but Tatooine made most planets look fascinating.

Oh, look. Sand. And more sand.

"So..." he said, the thought trailing off.

She looked over at him. He was getting cuter the more she knew him. She knew now that it wasn't just surface cuteness; he really was that nice a person all the way down. She envied that. She’d been forced to grow a hard, cynical shell to survive.

"I'm sorry about the girlfriend thing," he said. "It's just that I don't have a better name for...what we are."

"I know," she said. "I'm just not ready for a boyfriend yet."

"Oh."

She looked out at the sand some more. "I'll make a deal with you," she said. "You can call me your girlfriend if you want, but I don't have to call you my boyfriend."

He smiled at her. "I can cope with that."

“Oh, it’s so nice to meet you, Isabella,” Phineas’s mother said, hugging her just outside the front door of the farm. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Isabella froze, unsure what to do. Nobody but Phineas and Pinky had hugged her since her mother had died. “...thanks?” she said, hesitantly.

Pull yourself together, Isabella, she thought. It’s just Phineas’s family.

She was rescued from the hug by the sound of another landspeeder pulling up. A pair of teenage boys climbed out, one tall with shaggy brown hair, the other short with close-cropped orange hair.

“This is her?” the taller one asked. “Wow, you weren’t kidding, Phineas. She really is a babe.”

Isabella turned on Phines, glaring him down. “Really? That’s all I am? A babe?”

“That’s not what I said! I said you were cute, among the other great things about you. Brave, an incredible pilot, a really great kisser...” He trailed off, his eyes wide as he realized he may have gone too far.

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. When she opened them, Phineas was smiling tentatively. “Anyway, this is Django Brown,” he said, gesturing toward the taller boy, “and this is Irving du Bois,” he gestured toward the shorter boy. “Guys, this is Isabella. Captain of the Centennial Chihuahua, and my girlfriend.”

“You really have your own spaceship?” Irving asked excitedly.

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

“That is so cool!”

The visit had turned into an impromptu party, with Candace's boyfriend showing up and bringing his friends as well.

Isabella had stepped outside for a few minutes to catch her breath. The two suns hung low on the horizon, creating long double shadows.

"Are you okay, Isabella?" Phineas's mother asked.

Isabella turned to look at her, and nodded.

"I...heard about what happened to your parents, and then to Mada. I just want you to know that if you need anything - advice, a home-cooked meal, a night get away from the spaceport, whatever - I'm here for you."

Isabella looked at the older woman, who wore a hesitant smile. She wanted to shout that she didn't need anything or anybody, but she couldn't bring herself to spurn the offer. "Thank you, Mrs. Flynn-Fletcher. I appreciate that," she said.

"Oh, call me Linda. Do you need to get back to your ship, or should I get the guest room ready for you? It's going to be dark soon, and the desert isn't a good place to be at night."

Isabella thought through what was on the ship, and realized there wasn't any real need to rush back. "The guest room sounds nice, thank you."

"Oh, I'll just go get things ready, then." Linda bustled back into the house.

Isabella hadn't slept anywhere but the Chihuahua since she'd turned eight. It was weird sleeping in a bed, instead of her bunk. The house was almost silent, without the quiet hum of the life support system that she was used to. Part of her refused to relax; the ship was safe in a way that literally nowhere else was.

She'd had a chance to talk to Phineas about his plans. For now, he was helping his parents and studying the Jedi techniques he and Ferb had picked up from the holocrons. When he got older, though, he hoped to go out for a while and explore the galaxy...maybe with her, if she was willing.

She was still thinking about that. She didn't love him - the idea was ludicrous. She wasn't about to fall in love with anybody. But if she had to have company, she wouldn't mind if it were Phineas.

Phineas looked over at Isabella as he piloted the landspeeder back to Mos Eisley. "Thanks," he said. "That really meant a lot to me."

She smiled at him, and said, "Thanks for bringing me. I had a good time."

"So when are you coming back through here?"

"Not sure yet. We'll see what cargoes I can pick up at my next stop."

"Okay. I'll be here, waiting."

"I know."

3 ABY (age 16)

Isabella sat on the bed in the guest room at Phineas’s house and stared at the thing lying next to her. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It hadn’t gone away.

She looked over at her normal outfit, lying on a chair. A purple ship’s jumpsuit with a black vest. Simple, functional, and attractive. The goggles could be easily pulled down to protect her eyes, or just to look cool.

The thing on the bed, though...

Phineas had asked her to come to Candace and Jeremy’s wedding. That was okay. His parents had even sweetened the pot a bit by hiring her to carry the newlyweds to their honeymoon.

But then his mother had given her...the dress.

She looked down at it. Objectively, it wasn’t bad. It was a nice magenta color. It looked like it would fit well.

She just couldn’t wrap her head around the idea of wearing a dress. She hadn’t done that since her days on the street. Dresses were a liability. She couldn’t fight in a dress. She was reasonably sure that one didn’t wear a gunbelt with a dress.

There was a gentle knock on the door. “Come in,” she said, pulling her robe more tightly around herself.

Phineas’s mother came in. “So what do you think?” she asked eagerly, then saw the look on Isabella’s face. “What’s wrong? Does it not fit right?”

“I just...haven’t worn a dress in a long time.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize. You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just thought...”

The earnest look on the older woman’s face made Isabella smile. “That’s okay. Let me get it on.”

Linda left the room for a moment, and Isabella took a deep breath, took off the robe, and pulled the dress over her head. It was backwards, and with a frustrated sigh, she took it off again and put it on the other way. “Okay,” she called out as she looked at herself in the mirror on the wall.

Her breath caught. She was...pretty. She hadn’t expected that. Phineas had called her cute, and adorable; more recently, he’d moved to beautiful, gorgeous, even sexy. But she’d always assumed that was just words, something that boys said to their girlfriends because it was expected. But the image in the mirror looked just enough like her to make her realize that the pretty young woman there was, in fact, her. The hem swung just above her knees; the front dipped a bit to show just a hint of her cleavage. (What little there was, at least.) She put her hand to her cheek, and the mirror copied the movement.

The door opened again, and Linda returned. “Oh, my,” she said, looking at Isabella. “You look beautiful, Isabella.”

Isabella blushed, a smile creeping across her face.

“Here, let’s see what we can do with your hair,” Linda said, rooting around in a drawer.

“Shouldn’t you be helping Candace?”

“Candace is still bathing. I can’t help her out yet. Ah-hah!” Linda said triumphantly, pulling some magenta ribbons out of the drawer. “Have you ever had a braid?”

Isabella shook her head.

“Well, let’s fix that.” Linda sat Isabella on the edge of the bed, sitting behind her. Her fingers danced through Isabella’s hair, dividing it into thirds and tying the ends with the ribbons. In short order, she finished. “There. Go take a look.”

Isabella stood and walked to the mirror again. She turned, and saw the braid dangling off her head, a large magenta bow in the back of her neck. She reached back and pulled the braid over her shoulder. The bow in the magenta ribbon at the end matched her dress, but the black stood out.

Linda came over and stood behind her, resting her hands on Isabella’s shoulders. “You look lovely. Phineas won’t know what hit him.”

Phineas paced, waiting for his cue to lead Candace down the aisle. She’d asked him to escort her to her wedding, and he was honored to do so. The guests were filling the seats outside the house as the twin suns set, cooling the evening down.

“Calm down, Phineas,” Candace said from her seat near the door. “You’d think you were the one getting married, you’re so nervous.”

Phineas laughed. “Yeah, I don’t see that happening for a good long time. Isabella doesn’t really seem like the marrying type.”

Candace nodded. “No, but maybe someday. Although I suppose a spaceship isn’t a great place for the pitter-patter of little feet.”

“No, probably not.”

“Hi, Phineas. Hi, Candace. What’cha doin’?”

Phineas turned to where Isabella had come from, and stopped cold. He’d known Isabella was attractive. Beautiful. Sexy. But he’d never seen her dressed up before, and the sight blew him away. Her dress clung to her alluringly, a bright shade of magenta that looked perfect on her. A bow in the back of her head held the top of a braid that draped over her shoulder.

“I...I...” he stuttered.

“Told you so,” he heard his mother say somewhere behind Isabella.

Candace laughed.

The party was still winding down outside, but Phineas sat back on the couch in the quiet living room. Isabella lay curled up against him, softly sleeping with his arms around her.

He'd been so thrilled when she'd accepted the invitation to the wedding, and then when he'd seen her in that incredible dress...

They'd slipped into the living room seeking a semi-private place to make out a bit, but the exhaustion of the long day and the heat she still wasn't entirely used to had caused Isabella to drift off to sleep. That was okay. She must trust him, even if she didn't consciously realize it yet, if she could go to sleep like this.

Isabella focused on listening to the hum of the life support system. Fortunately, Jeremy and Candace were quieter than some of the couples she'd carried, but it was obvious that they were enjoying the privacy of their bunkroom to begin their honeymoon.

She slid herself to the edge of her bunk, gauging the space. There was enough room there for a second person, although they'd have to be extremely friendly with each other. There would have to be a lot of trust between the people in the bunk. She might - might - trust Phineas that much. Everybody else was out of the question.

She'd fallen asleep on him after the wedding, lying on the couch together. She'd been that tired, but part of it...she'd felt safe in his arms. It wasn't the same sort of safety as sleeping on the ship, though. That was the safety of being somewhere that nobody could get to her. In his arms, it was the safety of somebody she knew would help fight to protect her.

But if he were sleeping there, and holding her...she wasn't sure if the two feelings of safety would build on each other, or interfere with each other.

She covered her ears with her pillow to block out the sound from Candace and Jeremy's room. That was not what she wanted to hear right now.

5 ABY (Age 18)

Phineas waved to his brother as Ferb took the landspeeder and headed off. Phineas had caught a ride into Mos Eisley with Ferb, on his way to a date with the Twi’lek singer at the cantina.

Docking Bay 71, he thought. This is it. 

The ship stood alone in the middle of the docking bay. Isabella was talking to a group of people, who filed up the ramp into the ship. He saw that she was in business mode, and he was about to leave and come back later when she saw him and gestured him over.

“Farmboy,” she said, nodding at him as he caught up with her at the bottom of the the ramp. “Sorry, can’t stay for our usual...conversation...today. Need to be off-planet in twenty. Got passengers in a hurry.”

He walked toward her. “Isabella. We talked about having me go along with you some day. I’m ready to go.”

She looked up at him, her face hardening into a mask. “Sorry. No room. All the bunks are full, and somebody’s even claimed the hammock in the cargo hold.”

He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Okay. Sorry to bother you.” He turned and started walking back toward the entrance doors.

“Phineas, wait,” she called out behind him.

He turned back, confused. The mask had melted, and her eyes looked concerned. “What?” he asked.

“I...I’m sorry. I...” She hinted at a smile as he approached. “There is a way we can make this work.”

“You sure?” he asked, stepping up to her. “What about the bunks?”

Her smile grew a bit, and an eyebrow went up daringly. “Well...we’d need to share a bunk.”

“Oh.” He stepped closer, leaning down to kiss her. Her lips met his, and her body melted up against his own as their arms wrapped around each other. “Maybe we can do that even when we aren’t full?”

She laughed, leaning back to look up at him. “Maybe.” She pushed him away. “But right now, we need to get ready to take off. Go check the engines and get them warmed up.”

They lay together, bodies pressed together as they shared the narrow bunk. They'd just kissed a bit - they’d agreed that there were entirely too many people on the ship to do more. Her head rested on his chest as they tried to go to sleep. She shifted, rolling off of him to face away from him. He spooned behind her, his arm slipping under the hem of her sleepshirt to rest across her bare stomach.

"Sorry," he said. "I didn't realize it would be this hard to go to sleep like this."

"Me either," she said.

"Do you want me to go somewhere else?"

She pressed back into him. "No."

He lay silently for a moment, then said, "I love you."

There was a pause, and then she quietly said, "I know."

Chapter Text

7 ABY (age 20)

“Be careful, Phineas,” Isabella said as he hid his lightsaber inside his jacket; while the Empire was divided and in disarray, they’d put out a bounty on any Jedi, and Nar Shaddaa was not a place to taunt bounty hunters.

Phineas smiled at her. He’d been travelling with Isabella for a couple years now, and he knew what she really meant. “I will be. You be careful too, okay?” I love you, too, Isabella. Even if you never say the words.

Isabella nodded. “Of course.”

He walked down the ramp of the Chihuahua, heading into one of the many spaceport cantinas on Nar Shaddaa. The planet was a dense hive of people, full of smugglers and criminals, grifters and beggars, bounty hunters and deal-makers, crowded onto a city that covered the entire moon. Their landing pad clung to the side of a large chasm between towering buildings to either side; other landing pads dotted both sides of the chasm. The New Republic had gotten an offer of intelligence on Warlord Zsinj and sent him to make the deal for it if possible.

After a short walk, only getting lost once, he found his way to Uncle Chesko’s. It was a dark, smoky bar, filled with people quietly drinking and even more quietly making deals for things that would be illegal elsewhere. Here in Hutt space, illegal was a matter of who you’d paid off, and you might see New Republic security and Stormtroopers both wandering around.

His contact sat in a booth at the back. The Quarren watched the bar cautiously, eyes flicking across everyone. Phineas sidled along the edge of the cantina, trying to look casual as he extended his senses out around him. The Quarren was nervous, but that didn’t seem unreasonable. Nobody else in the room was paying any attention to either of them; they were all too busy in their own deals, or too far gone on their intoxicant of choice.

He slid into the booth across from the Quarren, whose face tentacles shook briefly in surprise. He tossed a small wallet onto the table; a sweep of the Quarren’s arm took the wallet and left behind a data card. “Pleasure doing business with you,” the Quarren rumbled. “Please wait a moment before you leave, so we aren’t seen leaving together.”

Phineas nodded and sat back as the Quarren slipped from the booth and left the cantina. He gave a count of thirty, then stood and casually walked toward the exit himself. See? Piece of cake. Isabella had nothing to worry about...

He walked through the door, and found three Stormtroopers waiting for him, rifles leveled and ready to fire. The Quarren knelt to one side, his hands cuffed behind him, guarded by a fourth Stormtrooper.

Isabella couldn’t put her finger on it, but she had a bad feeling about this deal. She watched Phineas head off, shook her head, and said, “Percy? How long until the ship’s ready to take off again?”

A prim droid voice, seeming to come from nowhere, said, “The ship is fully fueled, and would merely need to get the engines warmed up, Mistress Isabella.”

She smiled at the news. Phineas had found an old, almost-destroyed protocol droid and hooked its brain up to the ship’s computer systems. It meant they could talk to the ship, and have it talk back; it also meant that if they were carrying Pinky or someone else whose language they couldn’t understand, it could translate for them. The droid had been named P-RC3; they’d given it the nickname ‘Percy’.

“Okay. I’m going to go see if I can pick up some cargo to make up for deadheading in here. Keep an eye on the ship for me.”

“Always, mistress.”

She walked to the closest cantina to the docking pad, the Rimmer’s Rest. She let the bartender know she was looking to make some deliveries; he looked her up and down, then nodded and sent her to a booth to one side. She took her drink there and sat down, her thoughts going to Phineas as she waited.

She hoped he’d be careful. Not that she really cared about him, of course; she didn’t care about anyone. She’d promised herself that. But, well, he was a nice bedwarmer at night, and his other talents weren’t bad either. He’d done a lot of work on the ship. She’d miss him if he was gone. Just a little.

She was distracted from these thoughts by a female Devaronian joining her in the booth. “I understand you’re interested in carrying some things from here to elsewhere?” the Devaronian asked.

Isabella nodded. Her hand had been resting on the butt of her pistol as she sat; she made sure the holster was unfastened as she waited for the offer.

“I have a small cargo that needs to go to Nar Kreeta. It needs to avoid Imperial attention, but neither the Hutts nor the New Republic will object. Are you interested?”

“How small?”

“Two cubic meters.”

“What’s in it?”

“I’ll show you at your ship; it’s not to be talked about here.”

Isabella sat back. “4,000. Maybe more, depending on just what it is. Half up front, half on arrival.”

The Devaronian’s eyes narrowed. “3,000. On arrival.”

Isabella pursed her lips. “3,500. Fifteen hundred up front, remainder on arrival.”

The Devaronian looked at her for a long moment, then nodded.

“Ship’s the Centennial Chihuahua. Meet me at landing pad AC-33 with the cargo.”

“Agreed.”

They shook on the deal, and she left the booth, tossing a coin to the bartender on the way out to tip him for the contact. The smile he gave her was more predatory than appreciative.

Back at the Chihuahua, she checked the hidden compartments and made sure there was room for two cubic meters of cargo. “Percy, we’ve got someone bringing a shipment. Let me know when she’s here.”

“I believe she has just arrived, Mistress Isabella. A Devaronian female has entered the bay with a small grav-pod.”

“Thanks, Percy.” She lowered the cargo ramp and walked down, trying to keep her hand near her blaster without making it obvious. She’d had folks attempt to hijack her ship at this point, and while she had tools to keep herself safe, it was always better to avoid trouble if possible.

The Devaronian had a grav-pod trailing her, a small floating cargo pod with just enough of a droid brain in it to follow its owner. It was about two meters long, a meter tall, and a meter wide. “Nice ship,” the Devaronian said. “SCT-1500?”

“Once. It’s got a few enhancements now. What am I carrying?”

“I’d prefer to show you inside the ship, where there are fewer prying eyes.”

Isabella gestured up the ramp. The Devaronian led the pod into the ship; Isabella followed behind.

“Okay. So what’s inside?” Isabella asked.

The Devaronian pressed her palm to the lock pad, and the pod unsealed with a hiss. “Open it.”

Isabella stepped over and flipped the lid of the pod open, only to find herself staring down the barrel of a blaster pistol held by the male Devaronian inside the pod.

Phineas looked around to see what was going on around the Stormtroopers. I need a distraction. Everyone on the street was giving them a wide berth, not wanting any part of this fight. A landspeeder floated along, away from them, two droids on its back. An Ubese bounty hunter, short and well-concealed by his environmental gear, was watching the situation with the Stormtroopers, idly fingering the blaster carbine he carried.

Phineas gave the bounty hunter just a little push, and the blaster went off, tearing a hole in the metal street. The Stormtroopers reacted quickly, two turning toward the new threat while one kept his rifle pointed at Phineas. A quick pull with the Force, and the blaster rifle flew into Phineas’s hand as his other hand pulled out his lightsaber. It ignited with a snap-hiss, and by the time the two nearby Stormtroopers could react, he’d closed the distance to them and slashed one of them across the chest, cutting deep into his armor and sending him flying, his rifle falling from his lifeless hand. A second swing caught the other trooper as he was bringing up his rifle, and sliced it in half as the trooper backed off rapidly, narrowly avoiding losing a hand.

The trooper guarding the Quarran fired, and Phineas blocked the shot, deflecting it over to hit the trooper holding half a rifle in the chest. Phineas dropped the rifle he was holding and grabbed the guarding trooper with the Force, throwing him into the disarmed one coming up behind him. They collapsed into a heap, not moving.

The Quarren was gone, having fled during the fight. Phineas looked around quickly as he turned off the lightsaber and replaced it inside his jacket. Picking up a discarded rifle, he started trotting toward the ship.

Sensing a threat through the Force, he dove to the ground as a stun bolt narrowly missed him. He rolled, coming up with the rifle pointed in the direction of the attack, and saw the Ubese sighting in for another shot. He squeezed the trigger of the rifle, and the Ubese fell back as the blast hit its shoulder.

He jumped to his feet and headed to the ship as quickly as he could.

************

Isabella put her hands up and backed away from the pod as the male Devaronian sat up. The female came up behind her and removed the blaster from her holster, tossing it across the room.

“Sorry. We decided we’d rather have the ship,” the female said. “We’ll be nice and let you live. Just take us to the cockpit, unlock the computer, and we’ll let you go.”

“Fine,” Isabella said in a defeated voice. She started down the corridor, the two Devaronians following a few steps behind.

As she passed through a hatch, it suddenly slammed shut behind her. She heard the Devonians cry out in surprise, and a blast hit the door before they suddenly cried out in pain.

“Corridor gravity increased to seven times standard,” Percy said. “Are you alright, Mistress Isabella?”

“I’m fine, Percy,” Isabella said.

“Ejecting intruders,” Percy said. A nearby screen flickered to life, and Isabella watched as the two would-be hijackers were gravitically thrown out of the ship at very high speeds. They hit the wall on the far side of the landing pad, and slid down the chasm wall out of sight.

“Nicely done. I owe Phineas for adding that thing.”

“Speaking of Master Phineas, he appears to be in a spot of trouble.” The screen flashed over to a recording of Phineas dodging stun blasts from several assassin droids.

“That idiot. Fire up the engines, Percy, and let’s go see what we can do.”

Well, this is it, Phineas thought, blocking another stun blast with his lightsaber. The five assassin droids were backing him across the landing pad; he knew he only had another ten meters or so before he had no more room to retreat.

He’d made a wrong turn heading back to the ship, and run into a bounty-hunting group of droids. He’d had to drop the rifle to block their stun blasts, and found that they were shielded, so deflecting a stun blast into another of the group had no effect.

They were firing individually, each droid firing in turn, keeping him from being able to concentrate; if there were a long enough pause, he could gather the Force and shove one or more off the edge of the landing pad, but he never had enough time before he had to block another shot. They were all far enough away that he couldn’t charge one without at least two others having clear shots at his back.

Something moved behind him, but he couldn’t pay attention to it, blocking another shot. A blaster rang out, repeatedly, as bolts came from above him, shattering the droids they hit and scattering the rest. Turning, he saw the Centennial Chihuahua hovering at the end of the landing pad, its ramp lowering. “Hurry up, Farmboy, unless you want to stay here!” Isabella said over the ship’s external speakers.

Three droid starfighters appeared in the distance, rushing toward them. The ramp started closing as he ran up it.

He lurched toward the cockpit, bouncing off the walls as the ship jinked around. “Buckle in and make yourself useful, Farmboy, so you can make up for saving your sorry ass,” Isabella said as he reached the cockpit.

He pulled himself into a seat behind Isabella and buckled himself in quickly. The gunnery controls were already coming up on his screen. They were just bursting upward from the canyons separating the buildings on Nar Shaddaa. He targeted the closest droid fighter, just starting to come in on an attack run at them, and blasted a shot right down its nose, annihilating it.

“Percy, how long until hyperspace?” Isabella asked, not taking her eyes away from her piloting.

“Hyperspace in 2 minutes,” the droid said.

“There you go. Can you keep them off our tail that long?” Isabella said.

“Aye-aye, Captain,” Phineas said, and he winced as Isabella spared a second to glare at him. He busied himself with the gunnery controls, shooting at the droid fighters. They were far enough away now that he couldn’t hit them easily, but the Chihuahua was fast enough with the modifications he’d put in that they couldn’t flank it. He kept shooting, taking a shot whenever one started straying closer to the ship.

“Hyperspace in three...two...one...mark,” Isabella said, pulling back the lever. The starfield outside the cockpit window stretched into superluminal streaks, and they were gone.

Isabella silently checked over the ship’s status, making sure the ship hadn’t taken any significant damage and had smoothly transitioned onto the right route in hyperspace. Phineas stowed the gunnery controls and sighed.

“What?” Isabella asked angrily.

“Nothing. I’m sorry. Thanks for coming to get me.”

She glared at him, then her face softened, just slightly. “I saw you were having some trouble.” She unbuckled and stood up, walking past him into the main compartment of the ship. “You’re welcome.” She paused. “Why did the assassin droids go after you?”

“They were going after the Jedi bounty.”

“How did they know?”

“Well, there were Stormtroopers waiting for me outside the cantina...”

“Stormtroopers! You could have been killed!”

“But I wasn’t. Thanks to you.”

She turned and stomped off. “Try not to do it again.”

Phineas sat on the couch in the ship’s living area, reading the latest messages from his family. Candace was pregnant again, twins this time. A twinge in the Force said that someone was looking at him; he looked up, and Isabella quickly looked away. She’d taken up a seat at the other end of the couch, paging through a data reader after a silent dinner of ration packs.

I hate it when she gets like this, he thought. Something happens where she thinks I might get hurt, or leave, and...she doesn’t get jealous, she doesn’t get scared. She gets angry. At me.

It would probably be worse than usual this time, too. Normally he wasn’t in quite as much danger as fights with Stormtroopers, and bounty hunters, and assassin droids.

Normally...well, that was a dangerous word to use with this relationship. They’d been travelling together for a couple years now, but things still were never quite normal.

He could usually tell which mood she was in by what she called him; ‘Phineas’ was reserved for private times. ‘Farmboy’ was her normal state, and there were multiple intonations of that which ranged from ‘I might actually like you' to 'Could you be any stupider?' depending on what he'd done recently. When she stopped using any name at all, though, that was when she was furious at him.

She'd called him 'Farmboy' when they'd taken off, so there was hope that she wouldn't make him sleep in a spare bunk room tonight...but that was before she’d found out there were Stormtroopers involved. She had a special fear of Stormtroopers taking those she loved away from her.

Normally, when she got mad at him, she'd refuse to let him sleep in her cabin for two or three nights. If he was lucky, and they weren't full up with paying passengers, he could take one of the bunks in one of the other two rooms. If he wasn't lucky, he got to string up a hammock in the cargo bay. And then, after he'd been suitably punished, she'd invite him into her cabin again, and they'd have a fantastic night making up for their nights alone.

He glanced up again, and she quickly looked away, a blush covering her face. She put the reader down, stretched, and walked toward the door to her cabin. As she reached it, she paused, then turned to him. "Are you coming?" she asked, almost hesitantly.

He got up to follow her before she could change her mind.

Slowly, his hand stroked up and down her back, across her soft sleepshirt, as they nestled together in her bunk. She'd asked him to just hold her tonight, and he'd agreed.

He'd give her as much space as she needed. He knew she cared for him, even loved him, but she'd never admit it, even to herself. She'd had to harden herself after losing almost everyone she cared for as a child, and despite knowing each other for seven years now, she still wouldn't admit out loud that they were anything more than friends who shared a bed most nights.

Her shoulders started to shake, and he realized she was crying. "Are you okay?" he asked, then cursed himself for asking a stupid question. She didn't seem to respond, so he tried again. "What's wrong?"

"I love you," she gasped between sobs.

"I know," he said automatically, then realized what she'd said. "I love you too. But what's wrong?"

"That's just it," she said. "I love you. I promised myself I wouldn’t, and I went and fell in love with you anyway."

"Oh," he said. "I'm not going anywhere."

She looked up at him, a sad smile on her tear-covered face. "I just..." She blinked back some tears, and swallowed. "I was so mad at you for risking your life again. I was going to make you sleep in the cargo hold for a month."

"A month? Really?"

"I figured if I told myself a month, I might hold out for a week. Usually I plan on a week and last about two days."

He chuckled, and could see that the tears had slowed. He reached up to wipe the wetness off of her cheeks.

"I thought I might make you so annoyed that you'd leave. And then..." She paused to take a breath. "That would be as bad as if I'd lost you to the Stormtroopers. I realized that I need you."

"I need you too. And I wouldn't leave. Even if you made me sleep in the cargo hold for a month."

She smiled. "I don't think I want to do that anymore. It’s lonely in here without you."

Phineas wiped the rain off his face and asked, "So when are you going to tell me why we came to Gelgelar?"

Isabella said, "There's someone I need you to meet." She led him to Drido's house, then knocked on the door.

"Coming," Drido said in Rodian. Phineas cocked his head and shrugged; he didn't recognize the language, apparently.

The door swung open, and Drido stood there, looking back and forth between the two of them. "Isabella! Nice of you to stop in. Come in out of the wet, both of you." Isabella hung her rain gear on the rack by the door; Phineas added his, then stood uncomfortably as he looked around. "So who's this?" Drido asked.

"Drido, this is Phineas, my..." She took a deep breath and said, "Boyfriend. Phineas, this is Drido. He...he's as close to family as I have."

"You can call me your grandfather, you know that," Drido said. "Nice to meet you, Phineas. I wondered if she'd finally picked you up when she stopped visiting. I've heard a lot about you."

Isabella looked at Drido, shocked. "What? How?"

"Oh, don't give me that surprised look," Drido said. "Up until you stopped coming by, every time you visited you'd talk about your last visit to Tatooine and that cute boy you were visiting there."

"I..." Isabella stared at him. "Did I?"

Phineas laughed. "It's nice to meet you, Drido. She's told me about you as well."

"Come, sit," Drido said. "So what brings you by here finally?"

Isabella and Phineas sat on a long bench that crossed the living space. "I...figured it was finally time to introduce you two."

"Finally got serious about him?"

Isabella glared at the Rodian, then stood up. "Phineas, would you excuse us for a moment? I need to talk to Drido."

Phineas nodded, as Drido stood up and led her into the kitchen area.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Isabella asked.

"Don’t try to teach a gundark to suck eggs, girl. It was obvious to me years ago that this boy meant a lot more to you than you were willing to admit to yourself. I was wondering how long it’d take you to realize it, and whether he'd stick around long enough for you to get to that point." He looked over at Phineas, busily looking at Drido's souvenirs of his spacefaring days. "I'm glad for you that he did."

Isabella sighed and nodded her head. "Me too."

"So when's the wedding?"

"Excuse me?" Isabella asked, her head snapping back up to glare at Drido.

"I mean, you don't need one if you don't feel it's necessary, but if you have one, I'd like to be there. You're as close to family as I have, too."

"I..." Isabella paused, then thought for a moment. "Let me ask Phineas." She walked back into the living area; Phineas sat up and smiled at her. "Want to get married?" she asked.

His smile got wider. "Sure. Here? Now?"

She turned to Drido. "You up for a trip to Tatooine?"

"When do we leave?"

Phineas paced back and forth as Ferb sat and shook his head. Lawrence smirked from his own seat as he watched the two of them.

“Sorry. I just...I never thought we’d get to this point,” Phineas said, smoothing down his dressiest Jedi robes.

“Do you not want to go through with it?” Ferb asked.

“No! Yes! I mean, I do want this. Very much. I’m just...” A soft smile spread across his face. “I never expected to hear her say the words. I was resigned to a relationship that looked one-sided because she couldn’t bring herself to admit to it. And now...it’s like I get everything I ever hoped for.”

Ferb stood up and clapped him on the shoulder. “Good. You deserve it.”

“You look fine,” Drido said.

“You do,” Linda added.

Isabella shook her head. Linda and Drido had taken to each other like the oldest of friends on sight, both trying to make sure Isabella didn’t get cold feet.

She looked at herself in the mirror. It was a lovely dress. A pale blue color that set off her eyes, modestly cut but flattering. If she ever envisioned a wedding dress, it usually looked like this.

The problem wasn’t the dress. The problem was that she was wearing it. She’d promised herself not to let anyone else close enough to hurt her, and then she’d made a spur-of-the-moment decision to kiss a cute farm boy. Next thing she knew, she was sharing her bunk and her life with him, and falling far enough in love that not even she could deny it any more.

She could still run. Get on the Chihuahua and go. It was a huge galaxy. He’d never find her.

And it wouldn’t be the same without him.

She adjusted the dress slightly, then nodded at her reflection.

“Let’s do this.”

Perry’s hovercar tore across the Tatooine dusk. The suns were setting behind them as Perry and Pinky rushed toward the Flynn-Fletcher farm. Some begging - and a rumor planted that Darth Enshmirtz was planning to investigate Ben Kenobi’s place - and they’d gotten permission to take this side trip.

They pulled up just as the ceremony was ending. As they approached, Phineas leaned forward to give Isabella a gentle kiss; she grabbed him and dipped him, kissing him passionately as the small crowd cheered.

Quietly, Perry and Pinky slipped into the reception line. As they reached the head, Phineas, still looking a little stunned, shook it off and shouted, “Perry!” a split second before Isabella’s cry of “Pinky!”

Perry found himself grabbed and hugged tightly. “Thank you for coming,” Phineas said. “That means a lot to me.”

Chapter Text

11 ABY (Age 24)

They'd stopped on Tatooine for a quick visit, and Ferb had asked for a ride to Yavin IV. Luke was setting up a Jedi Academy there, and had asked Ferb to help research ancient Jedi technology that had been found.

"This is so cool!" Phineas said, reaching out with the Force to manipulate the rubbery material. It shaped itself to match his desires with barely a thought.

"Luke’s asked me to investigate it, and see if we can find a more practical application,” Ferb said.

Phineas looked over at Isabella. “Why don’t you try?”

She glared at him, and stomped back up to the cockpit, shaking her head.

Phineas looked at Ferb. “What?”

Ferb shrugged.

“What’s wrong?” Phineas asked that night as they lay in bed together. He was spooned behind her, his arm across her stomach.

“Nothing,” Isabella said.

“Really, what’s wrong?”

She couldn’t think how to put it into words. She was worried that Ferb would pull Phineas away from her, that he’d decide that working with Ferb was more important than being with her. It was irrational, and she knew it. They’d been married for four years now, and he’d been traveling with her for six. But some core part of her still was terrified that he’d leave her.

That was it, she realized. She was afraid. She’d prided herself on not being afraid of anything, but watching how easily he’d worked with Ferb had frightened her.

She rolled over, pressing herself against Phineas, seeking reassurance. She kissed him, and was quickly reminded how well Phineas could distract her from her concerns. She briefly worried that Ferb could hear, but then that concern dropped away like every other.

“Wow, this is your lab? It’s really cool!” Phineas said as he and Ferb looked around the room that Luke had given Ferb. Isabella glowered at the two of them; they didn’t notice. With a sigh, she turned and left the two of them to investigate the lab as she walked aimlessly through the ancient Massassi temple that had been turned into a Rebel base, and now a Jedi academy. The halls were mostly empty, with occasional brown-robed students of many species hurrying past on errands of their own, ignoring her.

She heard a child crying, an unexpected sound here, and looked into the room. A tall brown-haired man was walking back and forth with a small infant, patting the child on the back. A bottle sat on the table next to a rocking chair. The child gave a small belch, and the man said, “There, isn’t that better?” Isabella stopped short as she recognized the voice.

“Solo?” she asked incredulously.

Han had just sat down again, and looked up at her. “Hey, Isabella. What brings you here?”

“Dropping off my brother-in-law. How about you? Is...that...yours?”

Han laughed. “Yeah. I guess you didn’t hear. I turned respectable a while back. This is my youngest, Anakin. Two months old.” He picked up the bottle and resumed feeding the child. “I guess you could say I’m here for my brother-in-law as well, actually.”

Isabella cocked her head, confused.

“Luke Skywalker - the guy running this place - is Leia’s brother. She needed to come visit to talk to him some stuff about the Academy’s relationship with the New Republic.”

“Wait, you married Leia? Bail’s daughter? New Republic Chief of State Leia Organa...Solo? Oh. Yeah, I should have realized.”

Han hugged his son a bit as he smiled. “Yeah, I’m still not sure just how I managed that. But I’m glad I did.”

Isabella came in and sat down across from him. “How...” She paused, trying to form the question she needed to ask. “Obviously, you two can’t spend all your time together. She’s got duties, and presumably so do you.”

Han nodded.

“How do you make it work? How do you cope when she’s not there?”

Han shrugged. “I worry a lot. So does she. And we make the most of the time we do have together. But I couldn’t hold her back. If I did...what I’d have wouldn’t be the woman I fell in love with.”

“Just like I don’t try to hold him back either,” Leia said from the door. “Sorry to eavesdrop, it’s a bad habit I picked up from my father. Why do you ask?”

“I...” She looked down into her lap. “Just thinking a bit. I think I got my husband stuck between a rock and a hard place, and I think you two just helped me figure out what I need to do. Right now, I think I need to go track Luke down.”

“Come on, I was heading that way myself,” Leia said.

“Thanks, that’d be great.” Isabella stood up. “Han...I owe you one.”

“Any time, Isabella.”

Phineas was busily talking to Ferb about the things they’d found out as they reached the commissary for lunch. He kept talking as they grabbed a quick meal, then his words trailed away as he saw Isabella sitting and talking to Luke. She said something, and Luke laughed, shaking his head.

“Hey, honey,” Phineas said, sitting down next to her. Ferb took the seat across from him, next to Luke.

She leaned into him with a smile. “Hey yourself. How’s the research?”

“Oh, it’s so cool! I think with another couple days we can...” He paused, suddenly remembering they were supposed to leave later that day.

Isabella caught his hesitancy, and took his hand. “It’s okay. I’ve been thinking. You want to stay here and work with Ferb, right?”

Phineas nodded his head hesitantly. He’d expected Isabella to blow up at the idea.

“Luke and I made a deal. Some of what you’re going to be doing includes going out to find more artifacts, right?”

Ferb nodded.

“You’ll need a ship. So Luke’s putting me on retainer. If you aren’t going out for a bit, I’ll do some supply runs as well. So we’d have a couple nights apart when I’m doing that, but...”

Phineas squeezed her hand. “You’d do that for me?”

She leaned over and gave him a quick kiss. “Yes. Yes, I would.”

Isabella stretched for her discarded sleepshirt as Phineas gently stroked her bare side. "I'm going to miss you," he said softly.

"I'll be back in two days." Having put her shirt back on, she pressed into his side. The bed in Phineas's quarters was larger than their bunk on the Chihuahua, but she found she didn't want the space. They were used to sleeping practically on top of each other.

"You're really okay with this?" he asked.

"I really am." She rested her head on his shoulder, listening to his heartbeat.

"Isabella...thank you."