Disclaimer: I...do not own Meet the Robinsons.
AN: Allo! Thanks for your reviews! ^-^ I'm glad you enjoy my brand-o-romance! I'm really starting to have fun getting in touch with my mushy side. XD
To AnimeFreak: Yes! I plan for this one to be fairly long! And while it won't go all the way to 'Focus.' It IS in the same universe. So far ALL my MTR fics are placed along one timeline in my brain (Yes there are more on their way!) : D (And don't worry it's also on a piece of paper as well...you know...for when brains fail).
Now onwards! And I hope you enjoy!
Chapter 2
Socks matching. Check.
All buttons buttoned. Check. Check. Check.
Fly zipped. Check.
Hair…eh…normal. Check.
Wallet in pocket, watch on, glasses on, shoes on. CHECK!
Alright, he wouldn't be a complete disgrace to appear in public with.
Cornelius knew he'd never achieve…fashionable…but clean and well-kempt was within his grasp.
Funny, how all those things that seemed so trivial in first-grade suddenly mattered…His love-life was on the line!
Everything was critical in the opening stages; one shirt worn inside-out could nix any chance of romance.
Ugh, he could practically hear it, "hey genius, I see you know your way around your lab table. Too bad we can't say the same about your dresser."
No…no Franny wouldn't be like that. More likely she wouldn't mention it, but her face would start twitching from trying not to smile.
Like when you see an adorable little puppy run straight into the wall—you make a sound of alarm until you see the pup shake it off. Then you say "awww" but you think 'sooo stupid.'
Again he found himself staring at the certificate on his desk.
Honorable Mention
Awarded To
Francesca A. Framagucci
All printed on fine sturdy white paper (the expensive kind that didn't crease when you held it—guess the last Science Fair had some generous patrons).
Crisp and elegant with a fine silver border boxing the text.
Why the only thing wrong with it was the last name…
He felt a smug smile pull his lips—and that'd be remedied within the decade with an exchange of "I do's."
He felt himself slipping into yet another happy daydream. On an alter somewhere on a clear blue skied day…
Hmm. When DID they get married? When she turned eighteen? Twenty? Whatever age she'd make a beautiful bride.
He flushed and shook his head vigorously. Wedding fantasies were supposed to be for girls.
Besides…he still had that whole mutual "falling in love" hurdle to get over. HE might know they were meant for each other…but SHE doesn't.
Cornelius faced the oak door, butterflies in his stomach.
The committee had e-mailed him her address (not that he needed it—he'd known his future wife's address since he turned thirteen) ending the note with a hearty 'Good Luck, let us know how it goes or if you need any tips!' The little smiley face winking at the end of the message had just about done him in.
If not for the fact that his romantic interests were now common knowledge, but that he was terribly tempted to ask them for pointers.
He'd already scheduled this as best as he could. Sunday. 3pm. Most people would have already attended church and had lunch.
She should be home…and when she answered the door….just…
Stick to the plan. Stick to the plan. Stick to the plan.
Cornelius sucked in a deep breath, wiped his sweaty palms on his pants and rang the doorbell.
No response.
Oh well. No one home. Time to sprint!
He'd barely taken a step back when the lock unbolted.
The door creaked open revealing none other than Franny.
She stared—lovely doe eyes widening in surprise. No doubt wondering how why he was standing there.
Alright. This was his chance.
He started to grin, opened his mouth.
'Special Delivery' poised on his tongue when-
SLAM!
Huh…who knew that was the sound of ultimate disappointment?
He stood there for a moment, rattled to the core.
She didn't like him…
The other night must've been some strange blend of stress and hormones.
He felt his confidence crash into the welcome mat under his feet.
The door opened again.
He looked up, one tiny spark of hope flaring to life.
"Um, hello?" a great brawny teen inquired. His red and white Pizza Planet uniform and 'Hello my name is Art; can I get you parmesan with that?' badge gleaming in the afternoon sun.
Hope dashed.
"Um, Hi…my name is…Cornelius Robinson and I-I had something for-"
"Oh! You're that smart kid. In the papers right? Jus' sec. Mama loves this sort of stuff. MAAAMAAAAA!"
"Che cosa?"
He rattled something back at her in Italian.
There were footsteps and then two adults appeared: A tall broad man (whom Art clearly took after) and a short plump woman (who had Franny's eyes).
Cornelius recognized the man as Franny's father, who'd picked her up yesterday night.
The young inventor cleared his throat, "Hello again sir, last night-"
"You waited with my daughter."
"Y-Yes, she forgot her award."
Cornelius held up the paper carefully as though it were a document of immeasurable importance.
Which it kinda was…it was Franny's…
Her father's eyes lightened, clearly pleased by her success.
"You want to present it to her?" Mr. Framagucci inquired.
He could easily hand it to this man and speed away. Deed done. Total humiliation averted. Mission success…technically.
Cornelius surprised himself with his bravery when he gave a firm "Yes."
Mr. Framagucci turned away and called, "Francesca?"
A timer went off somewhere in the background.
"The rolls!"
Husband and wife glanced at each other than at the boy on the doorstep. Another chime went off.
"Well come in, come in," Mrs. Framagucci insisted sweeping the boy over the threshold. "Sorry that the house is such a mess. Art! Help him find your sister."
"Alright Inventor, this way" Art waved him over, while his parents rushed to the kitchen.
The large teen led him through a narrow corridor plastered with frames. There were photos everywhere of the Framagucci siblings as well as other relatives…A LOT of other relatives.
Their family was HUGE.
Dark hair, olive skin tone, and brown eyes seemed to be the staple look.
At family reunions in the future…Cornelius was going to stick out sooo much…
"Papa said you waited with Franny. A chivalrous thing to do" Art nodded approvingly.
"Eeyes, I did."
"Thanks. She thinks because she knows Karate, she's invincible. She refuses to believe herself incapable of defeating any villain who befalls her."
"Riiiight." So Art had always been melodramatic then…
Art glanced at him expectantly. Clearly, it was HIS turn to contribute to the conversation.
"Um, I-uh-met your sister at a Science Fair a couple of years ago."
"I know"
Cornelius blinked. He knew? Did that mean…that she…talked about him? And was it good—he's smart, I like him? Or bad—he's a nerd, I find him irritating?
"Oh, uh, I really liked her idea" he offered.
Art stared at him and then beckoned him close, whispering "Don't let Mama hear you say that. She's convinced Franny's CRAZY. That it's all nonsense and that if we don't talk about it, she'll stop. Do you notice that nothing's green in our house?"
Cornelius scanned the furnishing. Whoa, he was right! Everything was beige, or brown, or tan…ordinary…
"And I mean yeah she is crazy but so's Gaston, he loves explosives. I don't know about you, but I'll take frogs over cannons any day."
So Art thought he was the normal one…interesting…
Cornelius didn't quite know how to respond to all that. He'd always assumed the Framaguccis would celebrate their children's individuality.
Those quirks didn't make them crazy—it made them—it made them…unique! Yes, unique was the word!
So they didn't conform to society, so what?
He thought of Wilbur…his awesome, eccentric, future son…
Normal was overrated…and boring…and laaame.
When Art's cell went off for a 'Pizza emergency' he abandoned Neil in the hallway.
As he walked off, Neil heard him scolding "No no no, slicing it evenly is an art. Presentation is everything! Dex, if you don't feel comfortable with the cutter yet, hand it back to Sandy."
A loud knocking caught the blond's attention.
Cornelius turned to see Gaston in a pair of black pajamas glaring at a closed door. The slightly older teen sniffled, wiping his nose on his sleeve.
A deep cough rattled his thin chest, and he pounded on the door again.
Clearly he was the unfortunate victim of a nasty flu bug—so that's why Franny's parents didn't appear at the awards ceremony.
"Give up already!" he rasped gruffly "There isn't enough make-up in the world to make you lovely. And I gotta go NOW!"
"Shut up Gaston! You only want the bathroom whenever I'm in it! Besides, don't you know who's at the front door?"
Gaston rolled his eyes and caught sight of the blonde young man.
A wicked grin spread over his pale face.
"Cornelius Robinson?" he asked innocently.
"H-how?"
He burst out obnoxiously "Corny and Franny sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G"
"GASTON!" she bellowed.
"First comes loooove-"
"Better shut up or I'm-"
"Then comes marriage-"
"-gonna pound you soo hard-"
"Theeen comes a baby in the baby carriage-"
The door burst open, "Gaston I swear I'm gonna-"
She caught sight of Cornelius; and went from ticked off to mortified in 1.8 seconds.
Gaston took that opportunity to shove her the rest of the way out of the bathroom and slammed the door behind her.
Franny was too embarrassed to speak or move or apologize and just kept staring at him.
Cornelius, blushing to the tips of his ears, tried to laugh it off, "We'll uh, ahem, we'll name him Wilbur."
Franny received the award with less enthusiasm than he'd hoped.
She appraised it critically, "I thought they usually mailed these when you were a no-show? I'm sorry they forced you to drive all the way-"
"No I don't mind" he assured her "I-I actually asked them if I-I could-"
She blinked; looking over the certificate before studying his face, and stepping closer, "Really?"
"Eeyeah," he moved in a little closer. Perfectly aware that he was in enemy territory; that there were three men living here whose primary goal would be to drive off suitors.
But the soft grateful smile upturning her lips was so worth it. And the fact that it was ALL for him…
"That's…really nice of you" she murmured, eyes brightening at his form.
"W-well, this award's an honor that you deserve" he stated, sidling right beside her—brushing one hand over the paper—letting his fingers press against hers, "and I-I guess I don't trust...the uh Postal Service as much as I should."
Standing in such close proximity that if she looked up—Just. Like. That.
"Yeah?" she murmured, head tilted. His mouth went dry, he had perfect access…just needed to bend a bit.
Stage was set. Now to say something charming and awesome and claim that first kiss!
"Yeah," he breathed "and I live pretty close-"
"Oh? And where do you live?" Mrs. Framagucci asked, appearing out of the woodwork and scaring the wits out of the two teens as they sprang apart.
Franny recovered first, "Mama! Don't pester him."
"Uh um um Oh-over on the west side by the lake" Cornelius squeaked, blood pounding in his ears. Did she know? Did her motherly intuition sound off? Warning her that there was a rascal making a move on her daughter?
"So far! Oh you must stay for lunch" Mrs. Framagucci insisted.
Phew. Guess not.
"Mama I'm sure he has important things to do" Franny argued.
They both looked at him expectantly.
His stomach growled.
"He stays" her mother stated firmly.
Cornelius couldn't help smiling.
He'd been seated at the opposite end of the table—across from Mr. Framagucci which was…intimidating…to say the least.
Art sat on his father's right and frowned at the blond as well. Apparently it was perfectly fine for Neil to hand an award to his sister and to wait with her late at night. But sitting next to her for lunch was a completely different ballgame.
Cornelius was leaving the 'chivalrous gentleman' zone and entering the 'hopeful suitor.'
Mrs. Framagucci sat primly on her husband's left, her bracelets clinking lightly as she maneuvered her utensils.
To Neil's left was Gaston who (would usually sit on his right, but today their mother insisted he stay near her. Apparently, Art was afraid of getting sick. His perfect work attendance was in jeopardy!)
So there on Neil's right, wonderfully far from her parents, sat Franny…beautiful Franny in a light flowery top and khaki capris.
And even if Mr. Framagucci kept looking at him like he's smuggling a bomb, the fact is: he's waaay over there at the other end of the table. And you can bet Cornelius was going to capitalize on that.
Bud and Lucille had told their son that compliments were the way to go. But not so many that he seemed insincere.
So Neil gathered his nerves, crossed his fingers, prayed for good luck and went for it.
"You look very nice today" he told Franny quietly. "And I don't know if I told you, but you looked lovely last night too."
She blushed prettily and stuttered a "thank you. You too, I-I really liked your tie"
Heck yeah! Take that store clerks! See, he totally knew who he was dressing for!
The blond inventor trilled silently at the wonderful feeling filling him.
"Green's one of my favorite colors" he replied boldly, loud enough for all to hear.
Which may or may not have been the thing to say; it definitely earned him kudos points with his lady love but it also perked the attention of her mother…
"So which high school do you go to Cornelius?" Mrs. Framagucci inquired politely—eyes watching him like a hawk.
"And so the interrogation begins" Gaston muttered, poking at his food disinterestedly.
"Oh well. I actually already graduated high school and college. But I decided I wanted a few more degrees in the Cyber Technology field. A Masters in engineering and biology and if time permits I'll major in some literature…maybe. I really…enjoy learning" Cornelius finished up, horribly aware of how lame that sounded.
Gaston hacked into his hand, "coughNERDcough."
Franny scowled and kicked her brother's shin under the table.
Both siblings glared at one another.
"Well that's…quite an achievement. You're parents must be proud" the woman smiled, but there was something…odd about it.
Cornelius grinned, shrugging off his feelings of apprehension, "They're very supportive in all of my endeavors."
"So…you must be constantly studying for all those hard classes, it's a wonder you have any free time at all. I'm surprised you were able to come visit us today."
The blonde felt his cordial smile twitch, I came to visit Franny…you all just happen to be here…
"Um, yeah they do keep me busy, but I'm great at managing my time. Why, I'm also currently interning over at ."
"Oh, paid?"
"Mama!" Franny hissed.
"Paid" Cornelius replied a touch cooler than he meant to.
So that's how Mrs. Framagucci battled: subtle-knife-in-back style.
Etiquette made her invite him to lunch, in spite of not liking him.
She'd pinpointed their flirtation in the hallway for exactly what it was. And rather than drive him away, she used Franny as bait to lure him further in.
That way she could corner him in front of the family and grill him for information.
She was a cunning woman, Neil would give her that.
No doubt aiming to reveal him as penniless, unworthy, and not half as smart as the papers gushed him to be.
But she wasn't going to win.
Cornelius' whole future depended on standing his ground…
Too bad he had to do it…politely.
Mr. Framagucci leveled a look at his wife before meeting Neil's eye, "It's good for a young man to have a job."
"I think so" Cornelius agreed "Teaches responsibility and dedication. And when I'm finished with my degrees, I've already been promised a place on their staff."
Mr. Framagucci's eyebrows rose, clearly impressed with the young man.
Cornelius wasn't usually one to boast about himself. But if that's what it took to win the Framaguccis' approval, so be it.
His bountiful successes in science and inventing meant he had an impressive amount of pocket money and prestige. His brilliance ensured him steady work in his field.
He couldn't help frowning though—the insinuation that finance alone marked a man as Pass or Fail.
Didn't character integrity mean anything anymore?
Alfonzo Framagucci stroked his mustache worryingly. He knew this day would come. A daughter as beautiful as his had plenty of admirers. Not that she noticed. And not that he'd point it out.
Franny was always working on her little frog projects. Or school reports. Or karate. Busy making her résumé amazing…
And if she didn't date until her thirties…well that was just fine with him.
She was a strong, proud young lady with a good head on her shoulders. Boys were trouble. Boys would distract her from her studies.
Still, this…wasn't the kind of boy he expected.
He'd had nightmares of leather jackets and Harleys…
Or bright neon hair and tattoos and clothes reeking of cigarettes...
Or maybe some debonair little devil with a handsome smile and words as slick as an oil spill…
When he thought of the man who'd one day steal away his Franny, he certainly didn't think of large glasses and sweater vests.
But he quickly amended his mental inventory of threats: Nerd now topped the list.
He didn't approve of Antonia goading the boy, but it did lay all the cards on the table.
The boy was making his stake…
And darn if Alfonzo couldn't find something to criticize.
He scowled as he watched them: the way they'd keep sneaking glances at each other.
How their fingers lingered over one another's as they passed the salad bowl back and forth to various family members.
The way their chairs kept edging closer together. (Why had Antonia seated them beside one another?)
The inventor boy was smitten with his daughter—His eyes softening every time he looked on her.
And Franny…Franny was smiling…AT the boy…FOR the boy…
Alfonzo sighed heavily; he was losing his little girl…
"Papa?"
Was this the part where they told him they've had a secret relationship for the last two months?
"Papa, are you coming?"
"T-to what Fiorello?"
Franny flushed at the pet name, thanking her lucky stars that Cornelius seemed inept at Italian.
"My karate tournament Papa!"
Alfonzo released a long sigh of relief; seriously, what had he thought she was going to say? Wedding? She was fourteen.
He eyed the blond boy, how old was he?
"Papa?"
"The boys won't give me a day off"
Franny pouted, "But how will I get there?"
"Sorry Fran" Mr. Framagucci was too, he loved watching his little girl trash the boys in the ring.
"Mama. I KNOW you're off this weekend."
"You know your Auntie Marcella needs me! Renzo's on a business trip and can't go to the classes."
"Ugh, it's just another baby! She already has five, I'm sure she knows how the process works!"
"Francesca!"
"I'm sidin' with Franny on this one" Gaston snarked "If Aunt Marci can't figure out how this keeps happening by now, I don't think there's any hope for her."
Art snorted loudly into his bowl.
"Gaston! Watch your tongue! Art use your napkin!"
"Alfonzo" she glared at her husband, expecting some back up but he was too amused by his children's antics.
"It's an important part of womanhood" Mrs. Framagucci sniffed "and I think it might be a good idea for Franny to join us. All this violence can't be good for a young lady."
Franny's jaw dropped in disbelief.
"Darling" Mr. Framagucci replied calmly "Fran likes karate. It's good for young women to be able to defend themselves." Here he eyed Cornelius as though he might be a potential attacker.
The boy offered a hesitant smile that did nothing to assuage his fears.
"I promised Sensei I'd compete. I'm the only one representing our dojo! I HAVE to go. Look, someone has to drive me!"
Antonia deliberately avoided her daughter's gaze, chewing her pasta slowly.
Gaston twirled his breadstick carelessly, "Yeah, Franny, go hold Auntie's hand. This could be "good" for you; you can get some training for your fate as a woman"
"Whoa no no! I'm a kick-butt karate girl. Won't catch me being a baby-factory!"
"Francesca," her mom scolded "motherhood is one of the greatest-"
"Pains in the butt" Franny spat.
Meanwhile Gaston whipped out his latest model, "Breadstick Cannon loading and FIRE!"
It smacked his sister in the face…and then complete chaos took hold.
"Urgh!" she tried leaping across the table, but Art held her back.
"Francesca!"
"No good bratty-"
"Bring it on Princess Priss!"
"Gaston I forbid cannons at the table!"
"They never come to my events! So what are you so surprised for?"
"Someone has to drive me!"
"Maybe Art ca-"
"-Mama I have work! I'm soo close to employee of the year, every schedule alteration could count!"
"I-I could…drive you" Cornelius volunteered quietly, gaping at the anarchy—there wasn't playful sibling rivalry underlining this fight…no…this was genuine hostility.
"Mama you never listen to m-"
"Alfonzo!"
Gaston made a face while Art yanked one of sister's pigtails.
"Stop it!"
"Boys!"
"Not in this house"
Franny splashed Gaston with a bowl of dressing.
"My tablecloth!"
"Francesca!"
Cornelius' chair scraped against the floor as he stood up, "I can drive Francesca to her karate tournament!"
Abruptly the argument paused as each combatant eyed him. Then slowly their attention refocused on the head of their household.
Mr. Framagucci watched him through narrowed eyes, "How long have you been driving?"
"Since fifteen sir. I'll be seventeen this March."
"So two years. How's your record?"
"Not one collision sir. No fender benders either."
"Tickets?" he prompted.
"None sir."
"Papa!" Franny interrupted "Leave him alone! It's Cornelius. He's the most cautious guy I know. Not a risk taker. I bet there's not a single mark on his record! I've had more detentions than he-"
"Francesca!"
Somehow that made him feel terribly uncool…Wilbur had something along those lines about detention. 'You know you've never done anything awesome enough to be there.'
"Papa, please?" Franny pleaded "Please Papa…let me compete. I'll make you proud."
Cornelius felt himself melting and her gaze wasn't even ON him.
Alfonzo Framagucci never stood a chance against those big brown eyes.
He stood up, walking over to the boy—mistrust etched in his grave expression.
He was just a little taller than Cornelius and used it to his advantage—staring down at the young inventor suspiciously.
"Come with me"
Mr. Framagucci led him into the entry, sizing him up yet again.
"Next Saturday you will arrive at our house at 8 am sharp."
"Yes sir"
"You will return to our house by 7pm. You will call us before you arrive. You will call us before you depart the event. If ANYTHING happens you CALL us mister."
Cornelius swallowed nervously before nodding succinctly "Yes sir"
"Fran will email you the directions tonight."
"Very well."
Mr. Framagucci shook his hand HARD, gripping his fingers painfully tight.
Cornelius kept his hand firm—for once very glad for the roughness of his hands. They were manly hands—calloused and rough and strong from years of tinkering.
Something like approval flitted through the older man's eyes.
Clearly he'd passed some unknown test.
"Francesca" he called over his shoulder "say goodbye to your ragazzo."
Choruses of "Farewell Nerd-king!" rose from the dining room.
Franny hurried over, though not before scolding her brothers, "You jerks! Be nice! He's my friend!"
Cornelius visibly winced at that.
Friend…the most awful word to any prospective suitor…
Alfonzo felt a temporary twinge of sympathy—fleeting because this was HIS daughter and she deserved the best.
And if Franny didn't think Cornelius ranked the title, then he didn't.
Cornelius followed Franny out onto the porch.
She swiftly pulled the door closed behind her, eager for one moment of privacy.
The girl glanced at him a moment and ran a hand over her hair, grimacing as she pulled a piece of lettuce out.
"I-I'm sorry about…all that. My family's….crazy."
"I was glad to meet them" Cornelius smiled, taking a step forward and plucking a slice of tomato that she'd missed.
"Ugh, don't you get tired of being nice?"
To you? Never.
She stared at him.
Whoops. Said that out loud.
She flushed, before looking up at him shyly.
"Thanks for the certificate. And for…putting up with…them…a-and for helping me out next Saturday."
She fidgeted a moment before extending her hand.
He started to reach for the dainty fingers when she suddenly retracted them.
He blinked, caught off-guard—hand still poised in mid-air.
Wha?
Oh come on! What would a handshake hurt? After everything he just went through, he at least deserved that.
She gave him an uncertain smile, hopped from one foot to the other—as though contemplating. Laughed once and then rushed forward and wrapped her arms around him—hugging him tightly.
The world slowed down in that instant—the universe revolving around only them.
And that was just fine. In fact, time could stop for all Cornelius cared.
His hands gently rested on her back, lightly holding her to him; her sweet-smelling hair brushing against his lips.
Yes.
This was what he wanted.
If he could just have this last…
"Thank you Cornelius" was breathed against his collar bone.
Then time had to go and catch back up; in a flurry the door closed and his arms were empty again.
His drive home was quiet—opting to keep the radio off so he could reflect.
By all means it should've been a mission success.
He should be jumping up and down with joy. Not only had he completed his task with flair, but he was set to meet her again.
Almost like a date...almost...
He even had a whole week to prepare!
And yet…his skin still tingled…
In that moment, he'd glimpsed what they could have…
He pulled into the driveway and parked—mind buzzing chaotically before suddenly sharpening.
He needed to accept that no Fairy Godmother was going to wave her wand and magically set them together.
He needed to approach this…as a scientist!
His lips curved into a smile.
Phase 1 Objective: Acknowledgement and Fondness. Complete.
Commencing Phase 2: Part 1: Wooing.
R& R whoohoo! : D