Note from teh G-girl:

Hail all! Long time, no update! I am pleased to say that in this chapter, we will all get to imagine Simon and Jeanette's lovely voices floating across the screen, or you can just listen to the Moulin Rouge! soundtrack (if you have it) and listen to Ewan and Nicole's equally lovely voices floating through the air . . . your choice!

Note: italicized lines: "singing", thinking

Also, updates will try to be resumed weekly, which (unfortunatly for me) means I have to make time to work on this story. Blast ye gods of space and time, in that you could only give us 24 lousy hours to do everything we try to do!

It took a total of two hours to read through the entire thing, leaving half an hour of free time. Simon had done mostly well, considering the promptness of the situation, and the fact that he hadn't seen the movie but once years ago. Whenever he looked up at Jeanette he'd found her watching him, looking just as nervous as he did, but performing admirably. Sitting now on the floor across from her as the chipmunks made their own circle, he felt sort of odd.

"Hey, you guys did pretty good," Rhett said, coming to sit down beside Alvin.

"Hey, you weren't too bad yourself," Alvin responded, making room.

"That Candy kid didn't look too happy," Brehtt remarked, sitting next to Theodore. "Did you see the look on her face every time you gave one of your lines?" he continued, looking at Jeanette. She meekly shook her head "no," but Brittany gave an indignant humph.

"She's just jealous Jeanette's got the talent she'll only ever dream about," the red headed chippette remarked, and Jeanette smiled down at the carpet.

"You two make a good couple," Rhett remarked, casually glancing towards Simon. Both chipmunks turned bright red.

"I didn't –" "We're not –"

"No, no, I meant your chemistry's good. You play off each other real well. Sounds like a story, not just dialog," Rhett assured them, none too hastily.

"Really?" Simon and Jeanette asked simultaneously, growing even redder at the laughter that filled their little corner.

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"Gone to the beauty parlor, be back around seven. Help yourselves to snacks. Ms. Miller," Eleanor read the note on the back door aloud, sliding the key into the doorknob, her sisters filing in behind her.

"Phew! I'm starving! I don't think I could wait another minute for something to eat, let alone till seven!" Brittany proclaimed dramatically as she flopped herself down onto the couch.

"Are there any rolls left?" Jeanette asked, opening the fridge and examining the contents. Shopping day was a few days away, so the refrigerator did not yield the most tasteful results.

"I think so . . . and we've got butter and jam, to go with them," Eleanor said as she laid her school bag down in one of the chairs at the kitchen table, then opening the pantry and peering inside. It proved to be about as well stocked as the fridge, but Eleanor was undaunted. Jeanette knew her sister was an excellent chief – she could probably make something tasty and wholesome out of nothing at all.

"Seinfeld's on," Brittany called from the living room. Eleanor waved a hand in Jeanette's direction, holding a can of mayo up to the light to see if it was still off-white in color. Jeanette rolled her eyes and walked into the next room, placing her school bag on the kitchen table. She opened it up and brought out her history books, setting up her notebook and copying the day's notes. She sat there for a while, the drone of the TV in the background, occasional clangs and bangs coming from the kitchen, as well as Eleanor calling several times to let her sisters know that she was ok, nothing had caught fire, and as far as she could tell the microwave was still intact.

Then, the doorbell rang. Jeanette didn't really hear it because she was caught up in trying to decipher something she'd written earlier.

"Door," she called, out of habit more than anything.

"Busy," Brittany answered.

"Hands in the sink," Eleanor shouted above the running water. Jeanette looked up after a minute when the doorbell rang again.

"Jeanette!" two exasperated voices called out.

"All right, I'll get it," Jeanette muttered, tossing down the plastic pen and walking the three yards to the door. She undid the lock and twisted the knob.

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"I can't believe I'm doing this! Why do I even bother? What am I doing here?! Damn you, Alvin! I'll get you for this," Simon found himself muttering to absolutely nothing but thin air and a green door. He was currently standing on the Miller's doorstep, debating whether or not to knock or just turn around, get in the car, and go home. But what if one of the chippettes had already seen him? How would he explain he wasn't just loitering, or stalking one of them, if they asked him about it latter? Simon considered himself a rather . . . dignified chipmunk, if anything. Girls were like a foreign species, and as the delicate creatures they were they deserved respect, and a part of that respect included allowing them their privacy. Whereas Alvin had been known to sneak a binocular, or try to get a peek inside the ladies locker room, Simon would never have been caught dead committing such heinous acts! Besides, he saw at least one of the chippettes every day on a regular basis. He'd never be able to avoid them if they thought he was some kind of . . . pervert.

"No guts, no glory," he finally ended up muttering, and rang the doorbell. No one answered. So he waited, for what seemed like at least a minute, and then rang it again, deciding that if no one answered this time he'd turn around, leave, and take whatever comments came as they did. He was just about to turn around and abandon the whole thing when Jeanette's head appeared through a crack in the door, which was quickly followed by her whole body as she swung the whole thing open.

"Simon?" she asked, looking truly confused, "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I . . . um, that is . . . I just . . . uh . . . " Simon was rather irritated to find that after half an hour of persuasion, careful planning and clearly organized thought process, eventually ending with a scripted conversation, his tongue had turned into a giant cotton ball inside his mouth. Jeanette just stared at him expectantly, innocently patient.

"To say it plainly, I um . . . I guess – Jeanette, would you mind closing the door?" Simon suddenly found himself asking, as he caught sight of a blonde ponytail and a red scarf.

"What? Oh, yeah, sure," Jeanette turned around and pulled the door behind her.

"Would you like to come around back? We could talk there," she said, very quietly. Simon, who noticed a few nosy faces in the windows across the street, instantly agreed and followed the brunette out back behind the house, where a wooden deck with a three-foot rail covered about half the lawn. The other half was darkened and shaded by neighboring trees, and there was a small shed in the far corner, as well as a swing attached to the only tree in the yard, which was dead center, with the porch built in around it. Jeanette hopped up onto the railing.

"What did you need, Simon?" she asked pleasantly. Simon wondered if her voice had always sounded so patient, so smooth and even, as it did right now.

"I just . . . you see, it was Theodore's idea, really," the oldest Seville chipmunk said, wondering if pretending that he was talking to one of his brothers would make his mouth cooperate a little more, "He thought that since we're going to be in the play, we might as well get the DVD and watch the movie again a few times, just so we have a general idea of things, you know. And so Alvin volunteered me to come over here and see if we could maybe borrow it."

Jeanette blinked, looking thoughtful for about two seconds.

"Well, we've got Moulin Rouge, I think. I could go check, if you want," she said, though she didn't move from the rail.

"That would be great," Simon said after a moment.

"Do you know all the songs?" Jeanette asked, smiling a little.

"Yes," Simon responded before he could stop himself. It was a little known talent of his, but anything Simon had ever heard, just once, he could regurgitate the lyrics flawlessly in perfect pitch. It was like having an excellent ear without the musical genius.

"Really? I know a few, I think. Brittany's made me watch the movie a few times. I know most of Come What May, and a lot of the mixed song," she said.

"Mixed song?"

"All the classic love songs they sing when they're in the elephant, you know," Jeanette eyed Simon; just to make sure he really did understand what she was talking about.

"Oh, right. The Elephant Love Medley, I believe they called it," he said quietly.

"Love is like oxygen –" Jeanette mused as she swung her legs and looked off into the distance.

"Love is a many splendored thing –" Simon chuckled.

"Love lifts us up where we belong!" Jeanette answered.

"All you need is love!" Simon found himself looking at Jeanette again, and her at him, and he turned away, embarrassed.

"You don't have to stop, you know. There's no one here to watch," Jeanette muttered, looking at the ground.

"All you need is love . . . " Simon sang listlessly, remembering the old Beatles hit.

"A girl has got to eat –"

"All you need is love."

"Or she'll end up on the street –"

"All you need is lo-o-ove…"

"Love is just a game," Jeanette sang quietly, and jumped off the rail to go stand by the tree. An idea suddenly crept into Simons mind, unbidden, and he ducked behind the tree.

"Simon?"

"I was made for loving you, baby," the chipmunk sang as he suddenly jumped out from behind the tree and into Jeanette's path, "You were made for loving me!"

She laughed, and rolled her eyes.

"The only way of loving me, baby, is to pay a lovely fee . . ."

Simon pretended to look hurt, clasping his hands in a pleading gesture.

"Just one night! Give me just one night!"

"There's no way, 'cause you can't pay!" Jeanette sang, and as she turned away Simon knelt on one knee and grabbed her hand.

"In the name of love! One night! In the name of love!"

Jeanette looked somewhat skeptical.

"You crazy fool. I won't give in to you!" She turned away, climbing down the stairs on the opposite side of the porch.

"Don't –" Simon started, following her, "- leave me this way. I can't survive, without your sweet love. Oh baby . . . don't leave me this way." He followed Jeanette until she was leaning against the railing.

"You'd think people would have had enough of silly love songs . . . "

"I look around me and I see, it isn't so. Oh, no."

"Some people want to fill the world with silly love songs," Jeanette sang, and she turned to Simon, with a raised eyebrow. He was getting awfully close . . . too close for comfort.

"And what's wrong with that . . . I'd like to know . . . " Simon didn't know if he would have kissed her, but she turned away in any case. What would Alvin do? Simon found himself asking. His younger brother was rather a hit with the ladies (even if he was unavailable at the moment), and Simon could almost here his annoying voice in his head saying 'do something daring . . . '

"'Cause here I go . . . aga-ain!" Simon sang and with a great leap he found himself balanced perfectly (if somewhat precariously) on the railing, arms flailing a little to keep himself from falling.

"Oh my God, Simon! What are you doing?!"

"Love lifts us up where we belo-ong! Where eagles fly! On a mountain high!" Simon nearly fell backwards as Jeanette yanked on his arm, pulling him back to safety.

"Love makes us act like we are fools!" she sang, her hands on her hips as gave him the most dreadful look. "Throw our lives away, for one happy day!"

Determined to get back in her good graces, Simon sang at her now retreating back, "We could be heroes! Just for o-one day . . ." and he smirked when she turned to face him. This happiness was quickly diminished, however, when she marched towards him.

"You . . . you will be mean!" she sang, shoving him. Then she rolled her eyes and smiled quietly, "and I . . . I'll drink all the time!"

"We should be lovers," Simon sang, very quietly, looking at the wooden deck.

"We can't do that," Jeanette said, and she was giggling, a giggle that encouraged Simon like nothing ever had before.

"We should be lo-o-overs! And that's a fact," he sang, loud enough to make Jeanette look around.

"Though nothing . . . will keep us together!" she hissed, grabbing his arm and leading him back towards the front yard. Simon dug in his heals, and grabbed her other arm, spinning her to face him.

"We could steal time . . . just for one day," ". . . just for one day."

"We could be heroes . . . forever and ever," they sang, and it was harmonious to Simon's ears. "We could be hero-o-os,"

"Just because I-I-e-I will always love you –" he sang, holding her hands and drawing her close.

"I-I-e-I, can't help loving –" "can't help loving . . ."

" . . . you . . . " Simon sang, so softly only she could hear him.

"How wonderful life is . . ." she whispered.

"Now you're in the . . . world," and Simon couldn't help himself. He wanted to, needed to kiss her. So he did.

Jeanette felt as if she'd been swept off her feet, the taller chipmunk dipping her backwards as she placed her arms around his neck. She knew he wouldn't let her fall.

How wonderful life is . . .

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"Yes! Phase one of 'Operation Get Simon and Jeanette to Fall in Love' is complete!" Brittany smirked at her sister, who gave her a high five. They were watching their sister kiss Simon so long they had to wonder if the chipmunk would have to drop her to take a breath.

"Should we call Theodore and Alvin?" Eleanor mused.

"Nah. We can always tell 'em later."

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"Jeez, Theodore, I think he's gonna suffocate her!" Alvin called down to his brother.

"Aw, come on, let me see! Hand over the binoculars!" Theodore responded, squinting towards the two blobs as he swung his arm up in the air. He caught Alvin's jeans, and tugged.

"Ack!" Alvin yelled as he momentarily lost his grip. He caught it however, but not before he could prevent the binoculars from falling into Theodore's waiting hands.

"You think we should tell the girls?" Theodore asked, peering through the lenses.

"Nah. They'll find out eventually."

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"Are you going to tell anyone?" Jeanette asked him, sitting beside him on the railing.

"Not if you don't want me to," Simon answered, liking the feeling of her being so close.

"We should keep it a secret," Jeanette whispered, sounding mysterious.

"If that's what you want."

"Just like Christian and Satine! Secret lovers of the Moulin Rouge!"

"All right."

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