OoOoOoOoO

Wilbur grinned delightedly as he ripped off the christmas wrapping paper. Inside was a brand new, modernised version of Cornelius' guitar, with in-built amplifiers and a customised lightning-bolt symbol stamped on the side. He turned his trademark quirky smile onto his father, who sat next to him on his pile of blankets in the laboratory. Both wore multiple jumpers and blankets against the cold, as the radioactivity in the room affected the heaters. Snow was just beginning to build up around the edges of the dome, and the degrees were dropping by the hour. But even the chilly air wasn't enough to stop Wilbur from ecstatically strumming a few off-key notes. Cornelius winced, and reached over to flip the auto-tuning switch. They still had just over a month to go, but Wilbur had already broken 2 of his father's guitar strings from enthusiasm. To replace the strings (and buy Wilbur his own guitar), Cornelius had been forced to write a note for Lucille, including the list of things needed and a money order. It had been delivered when Carl opened the Travel Tube for breakfast a week ago.

Wilbur had (for reasons unknown to Cornelius) taken a huge liking to his song, and insisted on being taught the part of the lead guitarist. Cornelius had therefore spent a good portion of his time awake teaching his son what he needed to know. He guessed that the lessons were his son's way of dealing with the death of his sister, and he was also grateful for the reprieve. Wilbur had also insisted that Franny should be kept in the dark about their musical 'talent', and wanted to spring the song on her when she least expected it. 'For optimum dramatic effect,' Wilbur had reasoned when Cornelius had raised his eyebrows in question.

Cornelius' smile faltered when he thought of Franny. From what he could gather, she was a miserable wreck. They still had their talks over the intercom, but he was getting increasingly frustrated with the limited comfort that his voice over the machine offered to his wife.

Grace's funeral had been a fortnight before, broadcast throughout Todayland. A portable, battery-powered holo-screen had been delivered to the lab for the event, and the sight of the miniature, pale pink coffin had Cornelius in fits of tears. Wilbur shuddered whenever his mind wandered to that day. Forcibly bringing himself back to the present, Cornelius watched his son's expression as his eyes glided over the guitar.

"Wow..." Wilbur was examining every inch of his new instrument.

"I'm guessing that you like it," Cornelius smiled.

"No kidding." Wilbur grabbed his music sheet from underneath his jacket and began to play the first few bars of their song. Cornelius closed his eyes and hummed along as the familiar tune wafted throughout the room. Wilbur had been duly impressed with his father's singing abilities, though he didn't intend to sing himself. When asked why, Wilbur had muttered something which sounded suspiciously about boys voices' and puberty, then changed the subject. Smirking, Cornelius had adopted an incredibly high-pitched voice for the rest of the day- until his son smacked him upside the head with a pillow. Reaching over to the wall where his own guitar was propped up, Cornelius settled comfortably into the blankets as he turned on the stereo.

"You ready, I take it?"

"Yep."

"OK, then..." he mumbled, as the music hummed through the speakers.

OoOoOoOoO

Franny sighed sadly as she walked past her husband's lab on her way to the living room, arms full of Christmas presents. This was her first Christmas without waking up to Cornelius' arms wrapped around her waist, his head resting comfortably in the crook of her neck...Wilbur's pounding at their bedroom door to get up...Franny's soft smile turned upside down as she realised that Grace never spent a single Christmas in the Robinson household. Stopping these thoughts sharply for a second, she pressed her ear against the blast doors and listened carefully. She could have sworn that she heard music...shaking her head, Franny remembered that her music room was just down the hallway, and the two men in her life didn't have a single musical bone in their bodies. Smiling at the thought of Cornelius head-banging, she continued thoughtfully on her way to the ruckus in the living room.

OoOoOoOoO

A/N: Hope you liked. All my reviewers are head-banging rockstars like Cornelius!!! Lol.