Hiya, Friend-os! :D It's me again. This is my third story this week! I don't know why, but recently I've had a ton of storylines forming in my head over the past month and I just gotta get 'em out on fine print! Also, this is my first Simonette story! Yay! :)

This one is inspired by the movie "It's a Wonderful Life," which was a classic Christmas movie from 1946. For many, it's a family tradition and an American classic, but if you haven't seen it, I'd recommend doing so! It's a heartwarming tale. I'm not gonna say the storyline because this story is going to be closely related to it and I don't wanna ruin anything, but it is centered around the theme of "You don't know what you've got until it's gone."

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy and feel free to give me some reviews! (They are greatly appreciated, believe me!)

*Note: This is rated T for drug and alcohol use, adult situations and slight swearing.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Alvin and the Chipmunks or the Chipettes.

Chp 1: All Work and No Play

It was nine o'clock on a Sunday evening and once again, there was no movement on the second story of the Seville house. Simon Seville had once again fallen asleep on his keyboard mid-way through his seventh physics progress report that week and hadn't had a moment to nap in between paragraphs. It had been six months since he was accepted to work full-time at the research facility in the physics department at the Hancock Institute of Technology and he hadn't had a moment's rest since then. He spent late nights by his glowing computer screen with a cup of caffeinated hazelnut coffee, just typing away and losing track of time as well as sleep. By then, Simon had forgotten the very definition of the word "vacation."

As usual, Jeanette would wrap up dinner at around seven every evening, put the kids to bed, then she'd peek into Simon's study to see if he was still busy at work on the PC. Tonight was no different from any other night.

"Simon, honey," his wife begged, "won't you please go to bed earlier tonight? I don't know if I can bear seeing you so exhausted in the morning!"

This didn't faze Simon. He'd always respond with the same thing every night, "I will, Jeanette. I just have to finish this one thing, then I'll go to sleep."

"You say that every night, Simon," whined Jeanette, "But then you stay up an extra few hours and then wake up looking like you've been playing in traffic!"

Simon continued typing away as if she'd never come into the room. He didn't even look up from his computer. She approached him, coming up from behind him and bending down carefully to hug him around his shoulders.

"Siiiimonnn..." She whispered melodically into his ear, "Earth to Simon... your wife wants to know when you'll be coming to bed..."

Simon stopped typing for a moment, a smile gracing his lips, and looked at his playful wife. She pecked his cheeks a few times, then giggled a little bit.

"My dear Simon! When was the last time you shaved, young man?!"

He chuckled softly, reaching up and touching his five o'clock shadow. He realized in that moment that he actually didn't remember the last time he'd shaved.

"Hmmm," he replied thoughtfully, "Wow. I don't even remember! This is a little embarrassing..."

But shaving wasn't the only thing he'd forgotten about doing recently. He also didn't remember what day of the month it was, which day of the week it was, and he'd even forgotten when he'd last spent quality time with his pregnant wife and his two daughters. It had been a long time since he could recall any of those things: time had gotten away from him, to say the least. It was hard to tell sometimes the last time he'd actually slept in his bed next to his wife instead of falling asleep on his desk, or in the worst cases, face-first on his computer keyboard.

"Well, Dr. Seville," teased Jeanette, "I'll be downstairs in the kitchen when you finally decide to come down and eat a late dinner, okay?" And with that, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek and headed for the door, "Oh, and Simon... Please don't forget to say goodnight to the girls, okay? Please."

"Alright. Will do." Answered Simon in the midst of thought.

Fifteen minutes passed and Simon peered up at the clock for a time-check: nine fifteen. He carefully stood up from his chair and stretched, bending his back and cracking his shoulders sitting for the entire day. Although it was probably too late, he wanted to say goodnight to the girls and go downstairs to see Jeanette before turning in early. Since tomorrow's plans included two back to back board meetings, a presentation, a lecture to attend, and a staff conference, it really couldn't hurt to get a good night sleep to replenish his senses. Slipping on his loafers, he strolled out of his study and down the hall to a room with a purple door. ANNA-LYNN'S ROOM, it read, and it had ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK yellow caution tape plastered from the doorknob to the door hinges.

Anna-Lynn, Simon's eldest daughter, resided in her room from three o'clock until dinner every night, experimenting with her junior chemistry set and building sculptures with household items. In her own quirky way, Anna-Lynn was the creative, outgoing one out of the two sisters. Since she'd recently spent a lot of time with her Auntie Eleanor while her father was busy, she learned to be a very confident and resourceful seven year-old. Once, she made a castle out of corks, thumbtacks, and wine bottles that won her 1st place in her school's art show. The next year, she took apart a tractor engine, separating it into scraps and then rebuilt it without practice as a demonstration of mechanical engineering in front of her second grade class for show and tell. It caught the attention of the elementary school's board of directors and in turn gave her eligibility for the gifted students program as well as a few articles and pictures in the newspaper about her.

Besides her craftiness, she also resembled both parents in looks: she had Jeanette's long dark hair, her seaweed green eyes, well defined lips and rosy cheeks, but she also had Simon's nose, cheekbones and jaw shape. She wore large round glasses like her parents do because of the poor eyesight genes that were inevitably genetic. In fact, they'd call the poor eyesight problem "the bespectacled family curse."

Simon carefully cracked the door open and peeked in, careful not to awaken Anna-Lynn if she was asleep. His eyes wandered to her bed, but he didn't see her lying there where she usually was at this time of night. The lights were off and her nightlight which she usually turns on right before snuggling under the covers was lit...but where was she? Simon crept in slowly, trying to get a closer look. Suddenly, Anna-Lynn jumped out from behind the door.

"BOO!" She yelled, causing Simon to jolt backwards in response, "Haha! Got ya!" She cackled. Simon held his heart for a moment, then laughed as well, recovering.

"Oh dear... ya got me!" He breathed out, then re-adjusted his glasses, "But you know... you shouldn't have done that, ya little troublemaker...!" He said ominously. Then without warning, he scooped her up by her stomach and spun her around, tickling her belly and causing her to laugh and flail her arms and legs wildly.

"AHHHHH NO NO NO!" she squealed, laughing wildly, "AHAHA PUT ME DOWN! IT TICKLES, DADDY! IT TICKLES!"

After a few spins, Simon landed her on the bed, then continued tickling her belly as she curled her body into a ball, her eyes squeezed shut in fits of hysterical laughter. He stopped for a moment to let her unwind.

"You see, this is what happens to little troublemakers, Anna-banana! They get TICKLED!"

He tickled her once more, then stopped and gently pulled the comforter of her bed up to her shoulders, beginning to tuck her in. She breathed deeply a few times, recovering from the tickle attack her father had sprung on her, then took off her glasses and placed them on her nightstand.

"Daddy?" She murmured, yawning, "How come you don't come out of your study? Mommy says you're too busy..."

"I am, sweetheart," he replied guiltily, "and I really wish I could come out, but you see... my job is really hard and... they don't hire many people that have the abilities to do what I do."

"Oh..." She said quietly, a hint of disappointment in her voice. She turned on her side, "So...does that mean you won't be able to go to my robotics tournament on Saturday?"

Simon winced. He'd forgotten all about her robotics tournament! Though she'd asked a month previous to it, Simon never actually had time to stop and write it down or to plan his schedule around it. She'd been talking about it for months! If he didn't come, she'd be so disappointed... His heart was breaking just thinking about how hurt she'd be thinking that her father didn't have time for her. Or worse, he feared that she would think his job was more important to him than she was, which couldn't be further from the truth!

"I'll tell you what..." he began, "I give you my word that I will try my absolute hardest to be there for your robotics tournament, alright Anna-banana? I'll try my best."

"Promise?" She urged, "Pinky promise?"

Simon smiled, holding out his pinky, "Pinky promise."

After he'd successfully put Anna-Lynn to sleep and gave her her goodnight kiss, he crossed the hall to a white door with little blue flowers painted on it. It was Joanie's room. He cracked the door carefully, cautiously stepping in and seeing if Joanie was awake. She was in her bed, rolled onto her side with her thumb in her mouth and her eyes closed. The sheets of her bed were down by her feet as if she'd been thrashing about in her sleep. Without a sound, Simon crept in and took the sheets, gently pulling them over her shoulders. He slowly seated himself in the rocking chair next to her bed, watching her as she slept.

Joanie was the mirror image of Simon in every way - she had his steel grey iris color and eye shape, his chin, his cheekbones, his hair color, his lips, his jaw, and even his ears! The only thing that seemed to remotely resemble her mother was the fact that she was also very clumsy; often times Joanie needed someone to keep her from falling while climbing the stairs!

Much like her parents and sister, Joanie was also brilliant. At age three and a half, Joanie can already read and write ahead of all the other kids in her preschool. In fact, she can also add, subtract, multiply and divide as well like her father could when he was her age. Simon and Jeanette knew she was gifted when they discovered that she could spell six and seven letter words when she was only fifteen months old. However, there was only one small problem: Joanie has never uttered a word.

Although she attends speech therapy twice a week, Joanie simply refuses to speak. The doctors told Jeanette and Simon after she was a year and a half that she was just a late bloomer. They told her that she'd speak within the following year. But after several visits over a three-year time period, Simon and Jeanette have given up trying to find the answers as to why she refuses to speak. According to her teachers at school, she comes to preschool early every day and sits quietly by herself in a secluded corner, away from the other boys and girls in her class, and colors pictures. At home, she plays with her dollhouse and enjoys reading alone on the rocking chair. But she never speaks a word.

It guilted Simon to know that there was absolutely nothing he could do for her, and it was even worse when he thought about how little he gets to be with her because of his busy schedule. He often wondered if her refusal to speak was because he wasn't around her or if there was something physically wrong with her that he wasn't catching on to...or if she disliked him. The idea itself scared him. He felt helpless watching the days go by and not being able to know what's wrong with his baby...

Simon looked at her helplessly, wanting to reach out and hold her while she slept... but he didn't want her to wake up or make her upset. So he continued to sit there as the minutes ticked by, just watching. Her little chest moved up and down as she breathed steadily, her nose whistling a little with each breath. She looked like a little angel. She was so tiny...and so fragile. As he watched her, he felt indebted to her - as if he owed some great apology to the tiny girl for not being there for her. He wanted to see her smile and laugh and play like her older sister had when she was Joanie's age. He wanted to see her make friends and wanted to hear her sing a song. He wanted to love her and take care of her and protect her, as any good father wants his child... but he felt as if maybe, just maybe, her silence was his fault for not being there most of the time. He felt powerless. Confused.

A few more minutes passed by and he lifted himself up from his seat, leaning over her slowly and giving her a kiss on the cheek, petting her head softly. Then he exited the room, guilt beginning to eat away at his conscience.

When he entered the kitchen downstairs, Jeanette was cleaning the dishes and humming to herself. She had laid a plate of cooked spinach, rice, and noodles on the table for him leftover from dinner, which he missed again. He didn't feel hungry at all; the guilt he felt had stolen away his appetite. What he wanted most was to sleep for a long time. Jeanette turned around as he sat down and smiled brightly, "Why, hello there, Doctor!"

"Hello, Mrs. Seville," he replied tiredly, trying to smile. He poked at his spinach with a fork, his appetite non-existent.

Jeanette could immediately sense something was wrong with her husband when he didn't touch his dinner. She put her hands on her stomach, caressing the baby bump under her shirt as she sat down across from him.

"Simon? Are...are you alright? What's wrong?" She asked delicately, "did something happen?"

"No...," he sighed, "It's nothing, really... I'm just...worried about Joanie..."

"Oh..."

There was moment of silence.

"Well they said that...she might come close to a breakthrough by September," offered Jeanette hopefully, "I mean, she looks up when I say her name nowadays! That's good, right?"

Simon nodded, "Uh-huh..."

More silence.

"Simon. Please... tell me what's on your mind? Let me help you?" She pleaded, reaching her hand over the table and intertwining her fingers with his, "Please, Simon."

"It's really nothing that can be helped," He responded, returning her helpless gaze, "And besides, you have enough to worry about. You have two kids and a baby due in two months. That's enough stress on you."

"Yes, but..." She shook her head, "you have a much busier schedule than me...a-and you work so hard-! I know this can't be easy on you. You never talk to me anymore about what's bothering you, and it in return bothers me."

Simon took a deep breath and let it out, "Okay, fair enough," he stared down at his plate of untouched food, "I'm afraid...that I'm not being supportive enough as a father...or as a husband to you, Jeanette."

Jeanette immediately shook her head, "No, Simon! You're just buried up to your eyeballs in work, that's all! You're overwhelmed and going without sleep!"

Simon nodded solemnly, but she knew he didn't agree with her. She moved her chair closer to him and smoothed his cheek with the back of her hand.

"You're a wonderful father, Simon. Believe me, you are... And the best husband I could've asked for. So please don't cut yourself down so much..!"

Simon said nothing. He just stared at the tile patterns on the kitchen floor. Even if his wife reassured him every day that he was being a good father, he still felt that he wasn't. It was in Jeanette's nature to be one-hundred percent supportive all the time. She was the sweetest and most loving, accepting, and kind-hearted person he knew, which is what he loved most about her. But sometimes he felt like she took too much upon herself without realizing it and lets him get away with too much, and that made him feel miserable.

There was more drawn-out silence as he still refused to eat his dinner, toying with it under the points of his fork.

"I'm not hungry tonight. I think I'll save this for later." He pushed his seat away from the table, leaning over and kissing his wife's forehead, "But thank you, Jeanette."

He wrapped his plate of food in saran wrap and stowed it away in the fridge, then turned the corner and ascended up the staircase to finish the remainder of his busy work. Would he get sleep tonight? The answer was most likely no.

Okay you guys! I hope you like my first chapter and I hope it didn't bore you too much! :)

Reviews are appreciated! Thanks for reading!

I'll be updating soon!

-Blythe