"Alvin & the Chipmunks: An End Has a Start"

Fan fiction by Vilsy...

Disclaimer type stuff: I make no claim to "Alvin and the Chipmunks" or any related characters, names, etc. They are property of Bagdasarian Productions, Inc. c/o Ross Bagdasarian, Jr. and Janice Karman as far as I am aware, and this is just a non-commercial textual tribute to their grandness.

A/N: I'm glad you're enjoying the story! Sorry for the delay in this chapter update, but I'm still working on the story slowly but surely! This chapter is sort of "filler" and though it pains me to say that I hope you enjoy it anyway! It's probably poor taste to advertise here… but if you like Chipmunks stuff and you'd like to check out my new Chipmunks site in the works, you can find it at www dot chipmunksunderground dot com . Thanks for your support and keep on readin'!

While his boys were out gallivanting at the mall, Dave was none-the-wiser as he ran his errands. He journeys had brought him finally to the Miller residence. He parked his car in the driveway next to Ms. Miller's extravagantly pink Caddy and heaved a sigh before making the trek up to the door. After climbing the shallow steps, Dave hesitated to ring the doorbell. Sliding one hand into his pocket, Dave scratched his head as if wondering if he should show his face at the Millers' house so soon. He knew the girls were probably still quite cross with him, Brittany especially. Perhaps it would be in everyone's best interest if he stayed away and let everybody cool off. He nodded a few times to himself and was going to about-face when the door suddenly opened and Ms. Miller nearly plowed him over.

"Oh!" she squeaked as Dave just about tumbled back down the stairs. "I've been waiting for you, Mr. Postman! Have you brought my diet magazines today?"

"It's me, Ms. Miller," Dave said in his 'why me?' tone as he regained his balance.

Ms. Miller blinked at the man a few times before giving him the most befuddling of looks. "When did you get a job at the post office, David?"

Dave shook his head vehemently. "Sorry Ms. Miller, I was just stopping over to visit. This is probably a bad time, so I'll just be--"

"Nonsense, David! Come in! Come in!" the portly woman insisted, grabbing Dave by the arm and nonchalantly dragging him inside the door, shutting it behind her with a flick of her backside. "I've got a pot of coffee on as we speak!"

"But Ms. Miller, I-" Dave's protest did him little good as the old yet energetic lady practically carried him into her kitchen and deposited him at the table. "Ms. Miller," he continued in a pleading voice, now regretting his decision to show up on her doorstep. "I really couldn't inconvenience you--"

"Oh don't be silly, David," she chirped back, dancing over to the coffee pot. "It's the very least I could do after that nice dinner." After a moment or two, she shimmied back over to the table where Dave reluctantly sat waiting. "Here you go, David," she offered as she placed a huge mug of what appeared to be molasses in front of her guest.

Dave blinked several times at the concoction before reaching for the mug handle and agitating it a bit, just to see if it was really coffee as Ms. Miller claimed. The gooey black substance inside wobbled jovially like Santa Claus' belly within the confines of the cup. The corner of Dave's mouth twitched as he smiled patronizingly at the rotund old lady.

"It's my special blend. Extra strength," she explained with an air of pride in her voice as she took a seat across from Dave.

"Thank you," Dave finally managed to say as he fiddled idly with the mug. "And thanks for last night with the girls."

"Don't mention it!" Ms. Miller said abruptly, patting what was left of her white hair with her fingers. "Wouldn't miss your beans and potatoes for the world, David!"

Dave laughed and slid his fingers around the rim of the mug, swearing he saw a gelatinous bubble form and pop within. "Well, I mean thanks for supporting me on all this. I know it broke the girls' hearts, and I guess I wanted to come over to apologize to them properly."

"Ohh, pish posh, David," Ms. Miller declared with a shrug. "The girls will be fine. They've got other activities to occupy their little minds with. No use letting things get out of hand before they come of age."

Dave nodded curtly, wondering if Ms. Miller was speaking from her own experiences as an entertainer, but thought that was a conversation for a later time, if ever. "I know they're not my girls so I hate to have my parental decision affect them. But with the boys... I'm just seeing so much strain on Theodore and Simon. And Alvin-"

Ms. Miller pursed her lips and leaned forward with her bulbous chin resting on her knuckles. Apparently she found Dave's reports on Alvin's bad behavior to be fascinating. "Mmhmmm...?"

Dave heaved a sigh before sitting back and sliding the palm of his hand slowly down his face. "Alvin... there's no end to his obsession with being the center of everything. He doesn't seem to have any other interests besides being a musician, which of course is all right. Except he hates school, can't stop telling lies, is always getting into trouble, is impolite, lazy, alienates Simon and Theodore, really seems to believe that he deserves getting his way all the time--" Even Ms. Miller was troubled by the length of Dave's list of Alvin's flaws. Dave noticed the distressed look he was getting and continued on. "The bottom line is... I think he's spoiled."

"You don't say, David," Ms. Miller said with a satisfied grin.

"Yeah yeah, I know," Dave mumbled, knowing they'd both been through this conversation before. "I don't want Alvin to end up like that. I want him to realize that there's more to life than fame and money, or else I think I've failed him as a father."

"Oh David, don't you say such things," Ms. Miller implored, putting her hands down on the table resolutely. "I know you love each one of those boys intensely and you're the best father I've ever known, I'll tell you that." Dave blushed discreetly and nodded in appreciation. "But if you keep letting that little Alvin have his way, he'll never learn and won't have respect for nobody. Not even himself."

Dave was used to defending Alvin whenever someone else pointed out the boy's shortcomings. Even though he agreed 100 with the accusations, something inside of him was always compelled to say something in the boy's behalf. This had always been a strange habit of his and in reality a subconscious mechanism to remind Dave that he was the one raising the kid. He felt there was lots of good in Alvin and was frustrated that the boy rarely showed it, and inside Dave felt it was his own doing. He lowered his head and glared at the warped reflection of his face in his coffee mug. His grip on the handle grew alarmingly tight and his hand was visibly shaking. Ms. Miller was about to say something else when Dave began talking again, seemingly not to her, but more like reciting a monologue aloud. "Ever since I found those boys I've loved them, but I wasn't always a father. I dressed them up like girls on accident... I didn't know what to feed them, didn't know how to care for them... and as soon as they started talking I was dumbfounded completely." Ms. Miller watched him silently and shifted her eyes down thoughtfully. "Maybe... maybe it was a mistake to do what I did. That winter... Theodore was so adorable. They were so happy to sing for me and they sounded so sweet together." He paused and gazed out the window in silence as if recounting it all in his head. "People just ate it up..."

"Well, they are talented little things, aren't they?" Ms. Miller offered fondly.

"They are," Dave confirmed, with less pride than usual. He leaned his chin on his palm and continued staring out the window at nothing in particular. "Thinking back on it now, I can't help but feel as though I took advantage of them."

"Whatever do you mean, David?" Ms. Miller asked, surprised by this statement.

Dave brought the mug up to his mouth but paused before the gelatinous substance could reach his lips, then put the cup back down to reply. "I brought them into this... life of celebrity at such a young age. It's really all they know. I never thought how it might affect them in the long run, you know? I just knew that everyone loved them and they seemed to be having the time of their lives."

"Would you like cream and sugar, David?" Ms. Miller asked out of the blue when she noticed he hadn't drank a single sip.

"Ah, no thanks," he said quickly, not certain he wanted to see what chemical reactions would occur as a result. "Anyway, now that they're teenagers, I'm worried about all the changes they're going through--"

"Oh it's the same with the girls, David."

Dave went on quickly before Ms. Miller offered to go into detail. "Simon isn't nearly as interested in performing as he used to be. He's been getting really moody lately and that worries me."

"Oh that's just teenagers for ya, David," Ms. Miller smiled, as if Simon's excessively bleak sarcasm was a joy to behold.

David tapped his fingers against the side of the mug pensively, not certain that he could explain away Simon's behavior so easily. "And well, Theodore... even as he's gotten older, he still hasn't broken out of that shell of his..."

Ms. Miller looked slightly confused, as she took most things literally. "I thought chipmunks were mammals, David."

Dave chose to ignore her statement and continued on with his reflection. "Still so introverted and timid... he told me he's scared to go to high school. I really want to focus on helping him get that confidence I know he has inside. I can see it so clearly when he's singing, but for some reason it just doesn't carry with him in anything aside from that." Dave slid his fingers though his hair and sighed. "Maybe it's because of this music career... he doesn't know how to deal with anything outside of it."

"David..." Ms. Miller began softly. She did not take any joy in listening to Dave beat himself up.

"And Alvin..." Dave said again as if someone had just kicked him in the shin. "I just don't know what to do for that boy. I just want to give them all a chance at a normal life!" A moment or two passed spent in awkward silence, save for the soft gurgling noise the coffee-substance made inside of Dave's mug. "Anyway," he continued with a slight tinge of embarrassment in his voice. "Are the girls home? I'd like to apologize to them again."

Ms. Miller sat up and adjusted herself in the chair. "Sorry David, the girls went to the mall a couple hours ago. You know how girls are. They'll probably be there all day."

In truth, Jeanette and Eleanor had ridden the bus with Simon and Theodore, said their goodbyes when they reached their stop, and were now on their way home. It was a beautiful, warm summer day and the girls had wanted to spend more time with the two boys, but Simon's dismal mood told them that another time would be better.

"That didn't go so well, huh Jeanette?" Eleanor sighed, kicking a rock along the sidewalk as they went.

"No," Jeanette squeaked, reflecting on how annoyed Simon had seemed the whole time.

"Brittany and Alvin are really upset about all this. I can't really blame them," Eleanor continued, kicking the rock with her opposite foot. "I mean, we've sang and performed our whole lives. It's weird to think we'd have to stop."

"But we don't have to stop," Jeanette interjected softly, watching as a group of boys rode their bicycles down the opposite side of the street. "Simon said so. We can still sing, just like we did before we even met the Chipmunks or Dave."

The two girls walked close at hand, both trying to think back to the time when they didn't know the Sevilles or Ms. Miller. It seemed like an eternity since then. Eleanor remained silent, choosing not to continue on the subject.

Jeanette looked to her sister searchingly, but figured it was a subject best left alone for the time being. "Have you got soccer practice today, Ellie?"

Eleanor's face went flush and she suddenly looked very guilty. "I did, but Brittany wanted to talk to the boys so badly about all this that I decided to skip it."

"What?" Jeanette piped much louder than she normally spoke. So much so that Eleanor jumped a bit and looked up at her sister in alarm. "Eleanor, you never skip practice!"

"I know, but..."

Jeanette stopped in her tracks and glared at Eleanor urgently. "Well, is it already over by now?" she asked, pulling one of her sleeves back and looking at the face of her watch.

Eleanor gave the stone a final punt and it skipped across the sidewalk into someone's front lawn. She lifted her wrist and examined her sports watch. "No, we usually go on for another half an hour yet." She let out a yelp when Jeanette suddenly pushed her firmly along again.

"Well come on, Ellie! Let's get you to the field then!"

Eleanor tripped over her feet but steadied herself into a quick walk as Jeanette ushered her along. She was surprised, but she smiled happily at the fact that Jeanette cared so much about her athletic endeavors. Plus, spending time with Jeanette away from Brittany was always a pleasant experience and helped the two sisters bond in peace.

The afternoon rolled onward and Dave resigned himself to leave Ms. Miller and her coffee in favor of returning home. He concluded that there would be another time to apologize to the girls; it wouldn't do to deprive them of such a fine summer day anyhow. As he backed out of the driveway and drove down the avenue towards home, he wondered what his boys were doing and if they were getting along. As he devised ideas to put them all in better moods, he failed to notice Alvin and Brittany walking by on the sidewalk in the opposite direction.

"Was that Dave that just drove by?" Brittany mused as she took a moment to look over her shoulder.

"Doubt it," Alvin said absently with his hands tucked in his front pockets. His attention was drawn to some children giggling and splashing in a kiddy pool while a parent playfully sprayed them with the garden hose. "Gees, it's hot today," he complained as he took his cap off to wipe the sweat from his hairline.

"Then don't walk so close to me," Brittany suggested in a matter-of-fact tone as they trekked up the sidewalk toward her house. She hadn't invited Alvin to tag along, but when they arrived at her bus stop, he had hopped off with her. She was hoping he would get distracted by something before they reached her house; she was still annoyed that there was very little 'pep' in their pep talk at the mall. She was angrier at Simon for tearing down all of her arguments, but she chose to direct her frustration at Alvin. His next comment only fueled this.

Alvin let out an amused guffaw in response to her suggestion. "You're not that hot, Britt, don't flatter yourself," he informed, sliding his arms behind his head in a satisfied manner.

Brittany gave her walking companion a look of sheer disgust and covered her nose dramatically with her hand. "Oh Alvin! Put your arms down, you're killing me!"

Alvin blinked several times. "What?"

Brittany started walking a bit faster. "You stink! You're all sweaty! Ew!"

Alvin nonchalantly leaned his head to the side and gave his under arms a sniff. "Really? I don't smell anything."

"Ugh!" Brittany wheezed, rolling her eyes at the boy. "I swear, Alvin! Why do you wear that sweatshirt? It's like a million degrees! What idiot wears a sweatshirt in the summer?"

Alvin strolled to a stop and pulled the cumbersome garment off without another word of argument. Brittany slowed to a stop and watched, surprised that her insults had gotten him to remove his beloved hoodie. He still smelled of sweat but she couldn't help gawking at his revealed physique.

"Better?" he murmured as he slung the hoodie carefully over his shoulder so his CD player wouldn't topple out of the pocket.

"A little," Brittany managed, not letting on how much better she really thought it was. To avoid the risk of drawing his attention to the fact she was ogling his bare chest, she quickly turned and continued up the sidewalk. "You're still sweaty..."

"Well then whaddya say we take a swim in your pool?" Alvin suggested pointedly as he hurried to keep up with her pace.

Brittany had a feeling that was the main reason Alvin had followed her that far, just like a lost puppy. The Millers had recently set up their backyard swimming pool for the summer and news traveled fast about such things. Brittany urged herself to blow Alvin off but was intrigued over the idea of taking a dip. "Fine," she huffed, giving in. "But I still want to talk about-AHAHAHAHAHAHA STOP IT, ALVIN!"

After gaining permission to go swimming, Alvin mistakenly believed he'd also garnered permission to tickle Brittany again. He had gone for her waist which was exposed an inch or two due to the low-cut jeans and the high-cut shirts she so liked to wear. Having thoroughly weakened her with laughter, Alvin let out a laugh of his own and started running up the sidewalk towards the house.

Brittany finally caught her breath and screamed at the top of her lungs, almost well enough to rival the years of practice Dave had: "ALLLLLVIIIIIIN!"

Brittany marveled at the enthusiasm Alvin had for getting into their pool. She asked him if he was going to go home first to get a swimsuit, but he merely laughed at her and said his boxers would do the trick. She wasn't sure if she should be disgusted or compliant, but before she could argue he had already stripped his shoes, socks, and jeans off and discarded them along with his hoodie onto the deck surrounding the pool. Without another word, he catapulted into the clear, chlorinated water with such a mighty splash that Brittany nearly got drenched. Mortified and tempted to give the boy a good thrashing, Brittany stormed into her house through the back sliding door.

She reemerged in her favorite hot pink, two-piece swimsuit (also adorned with rhinestones) and two towels which she ceremoniously laid across some lounge chairs. Having done so, she then sat down atop one of them and slipped on some sunglasses. Instead of sunbathing luxuriously as she normally would, she just sat uncomfortably and stared at the pool blankly. Alvin came up to the pool's edge and glared incredulously at Brittany.

"You're not coming in?" he asked her in a tone that denoted bewilderment.

It seemed as though Brittany had not heard the inquiry, as she continued to look right through Alvin. It wasn't until the chipmunk boy flicked an ample amount of pool water at the girl's face that she chose to react.

"Alvin!" she shrieked, much louder than she herself had anticipated. She put her hand over her mouth and looked around to see if she had elicited any stares from the neighbors. Somewhat disappointed when she saw no one was looking at her, she glared back more focused on Alvin. "Stop it!"

"Aw come on, Britt!" Alvin moaned, pushing backwards into the water and floating on his back. "What's wrong with you?"

"I'll tell you what's wrong, Alvin Seville!" the Chipette suddenly snapped, standing up and waggling a finger at the boy. "I am NOT giving up my career! I'm too young to be unemployed!"

It took Alvin a moment to comprehend what she was talking about, but then he remembered their overall predicament. He rolled onto his stomach and swam back over to the edge of the pool. "I know. Look, Britt, we'll handle this. All we gotta do is convince Dave to resign our contracts, and then he won't have a choice but to let us sing."

Brittany sighed and leaned back on the lounge chair. "Sure, Alvin. That sounds great, but what makes you think he'll change his mind?"

"I'll tell you what," Alvin said in a firm and confident voice. He never liked to be in situations in which someone doubted him, and he did not particularly like Brittany's tone. "All we have to do is show Dave that he'd be an idiot not to resign us!"

Brittany sat up again and crossed her arms and smirked. "Shouldn't that be obvious? MY band is perfect. I don't know why we should be dragged down just because Dave thinks the Chipmunks aren't-"

"Hold on!" Alvin interjected, eyes narrowing as he leaned further onto the wooden deck. "There's nothing wrong with the Chipmunks; it's not our fault!"

"Oh yeah?" Brittany sneered, taking her sunglasses off and glaring at the boy. She was appalled that Alvin might even think of insinuating that the Chipettes had anything to do with Dave's decision to pull the plug. "Then whose fault is it? Dave is YOUR father! Not ours!"

"Look," Alvin said in a hushed tone. His muscles twitched as he tried to keep his cool. "Let's forget about who's to blame. If we're going to fix this, you and I gotta cooperate, OK?" Brittany still appeared prideful but she nodded and allowed Alvin to continue. "All we need to do is get the public riled over us again. Maybe Dave is just mad at the recording label for screwing him over and he's not seeing straight. You're right..." he added in a painfully strained manner. "He doesn't have the right to take it out on us." Brittany rewarded Alvin's words with a painfully smug grin. "SO," Alvin proceeded quickly, "if we show him how much our fans adore me, er, us... he'll remember what our careers are all about."

"And how are we supposed to do that?"

Alvin pulled himself out of the pool and sat cross-legged in front of Brittany's chair. "The concerts... Brittany," he remarked, trying his hardest not to call her any names. "Remember? Dave invited you to perform with us at our concerts this summer." Brittany made a subtle face of revelation. "So we just need to put on our best performances EVER. We'll show him... he'll feel so dumb he'll sign those contracts in a heartbeat." Alvin studied Brittany's interested but not completely swayed expression. He reached out and touched her hand gently which took the Chipette by surprise. "Trust me."

Brittany's cheeks turned red and she gazed at Alvin for several moments. She suddenly slipped her hand out from under his and reached over to the second towel she had brought out. She handed it to Alvin in an attempt to shield her blushing. "Y-your hand is wet."

"No kidding?" Alvin grinned, knowing he had finally gotten through to her. He took the towel and draped it over his shoulders. "So are you with me on this?"

Brittany crossed her arms protectively over her chest and looked off into the distance again. "I don't want to be just some sideshow. It's not fair..." Her voice was distant but Alvin had heard her just fine.

"We'll share the stage equally. You can have your own numbers. You can have a solo!" Brittany's attention returned to the chipmunk. "We can work something out, Britt!"

"And what about your brothers? They really don't seem to care anymore," Brittany smirked, though her mind was wrapped firmly around the idea of having a solo performance at a large venue.

"Well your sisters seem pretty happy to break up too!" Alvin snapped, losing the level-headed temperament that he tried so hard to maintain.

"Eleanor just said that to keep us from fighting!" Brittany bit back, leaning forward to defiantly meet Alvin eye to eye. And they had been doing so well to be civil towards one another. Tsk tsk. "She hates fighting so she'll say anything to stop it."

"Oh sure, and Jeanette?"

"She'll just do anything Simon says!"

"Oh really? You mean like the game we played in elementary school?" Alvin smirked. "Like, Simon says, 'go jump off a cliff, Jeanette?'"

"Shut up, Alvin!" Brittany barked, not wanting anyone to insult her sister's constitution but her. "My sisters have no bearing on any of this!"

"Oh yeah? Well neither do my brothers!"

"Fine! I want a solo, center stage!"

"Fine! That can be arranged!"

"Fine! Then we have a deal!"

"Fine! I'll go tell Dave!"

Before the arguing / deal making could go on, Alvin leaned forward a bit further and kissed Brittany quickly on her lips. It happened so fast that the girl barely realized what he had done. She sat there blinking at him but he had already gotten up, dried off, and was putting his effects back on. By the time she snapped out of it, he was dressed and ready to leave.

"See you later, Britt," he declared as he trotted off towards the front yard.

Brittany finally came to her senses and just barely had the chance to wave goodbye to him. Dealing with Alvin sometimes gave her a headache; she wasn't sure if she was angry, bemused, or in love. Sometimes these very different feelings towards him came just shy of seconds from one another. From what she gathered, his hasty stolen kiss was his way of telling her beyond words to trust him on his plan.

She lied back on the lounge chair and put her sunglasses back on, letting herself relax and soak up the summer sun. As the heat of their argument subsided, she allowed herself to let go of the anger and let the bemused love settle in, a small smile forming on her lips.