ࡱ> }   !"#$%&'()*+,-./0123456789:;<=>?@ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ[\]^_`abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz{|}~Root Entry F`nYWordDocument UCompObj^Peter cuddled up in bed with his teddy bear, and Davy Jones, the last of his roomy's, curled up like a little kitten in a ball under his cover's, and probably snoring like a horse. Suddenly, that thought was shattered by a peircing shreik from a distance behind them. It was cut off abruptly. Mike and Micky both turned, eye's scanning the beach. "What was that?!" Micky asked. They ran down the old, rickety step's and onto the sand, running down the beach whare they thought the sound had come from. After a moment, they stopped and peered around the beach, seeing nothing but sand and ocean. Micky turned to Mike, a clear question written across his face. "Maybe we were just hearing thing's." He sugested. Mike's eye cought something beyond Micky, and the blood drained from his face. "Look!" He pointed behind Micky. Micky turned around and saw axcactly what Mike saw, and went completely pale. There, laying unconcious in the sand in a simple bathing suit, was a young girl. The water crawled up her body and sank back down into the ocean. Without another second to think about it, Mike and Micky were already sprinting across the sand tword the lifeless body. Micky was the first to reach her, kneeling down and lowering his head to her mouth to listen for any sign of life. None. He leaned down to listen for a heart beat. He heard a slow, unsteady beat, and his heart began to race. "She's alive!" He yelled. Mike was already kneeling on her other side. "Whadda we do!?" Micky's question hit Mike like a rock. What do they do? He didn't have a answer for this question. Come on, Nesmith, think of something! "CPR?" Mike said it more like a question than a command. "Good idea." Micky said, and before Mike even had a chance to ask Micky if he knew what he was doing, Micky had already plugged her nose with his finger's and was trying mouth-to-mouth resusitaion. He pulled back and waited. Nothing. Mike instintively put both his hand's on her stomach and pushed down, quickly and lightly, five time's. Micky tried again. Nothing. Mike tried. Nothing. Micky tried. Nothing. As Mike was just about to try again, the girl began to cough violently and spit up large amount's of water! Micky jumped a little, startled by the sudden reaction. After a moment, the girl stopped coughing and lay peaceful again, still unconcious. Mike listened for a heartbeat. He looked up at Micky, smiling slightly. "She's alive." Micky breathed a heavy sigh of relief. "We'd better take'er back to the Pad 'till she wakes up. God only know's whare she came from." Micky said as he put his arm's underneath her and scooped her up from the sand, standing. "I wonder what she was doin' swimmin' at this hour in the mornin'." Mike wondered outloud as he stoud and they headed back to the Pad. PART TWO: SLEEPING BEAUTY? DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT, JONES. Davy yawned rather loudly, knuckeling the sleep from his eye's. Another day of living, he thought, with no real point. He rolled out of his bed and noted that everybody else was up. Then, he smiled at the sweet smell of blueberry waffles coming from downstair's. "Davy! You'd better get down here and eat before Moose over here finishes off all the waffles!" Mike yelled from downstair's, reffering to Micky. Davy quickened his pace as he hurried into the bathroom to shower and get dressed. He came out five or six minutes later, fully drest, rubbing a towel through his wet hair. He whisteled rather tunelessly as he tossed his boxer's onto his unmade bed. Then he went back into the bathroom and tossed the towel aside as he smoothed out his still slightly wet mess of hair. Smiling with satisfaction at the image in the mirror, he made his way out of the bedroom and down the stair's. Suddenly, he stopped short at the bottom. There, laying on the couch with a blanket drapped over her body, was a girl. Her long, deep brown hair was wet and stringy, and a towel rested on the pillow under her head. Wow, Davy thought, standing on the stair's. He was tottally oblivious to the fact that Mike, Micky, and Peter were all watching him from the kitcܥe# U,Tl,TlTT T \(TTTTTQ0)\MS Sans Serif Symbol SystemTimes New RomanTimes New RomanSO MANY QUESTION'S, SO MANY ANSWERS By Angel (NOTE: I would have to thank Madame, the writer of the Isabel stories, for helping with my writing ability and for inspiring me with the fact that even a goofy TV show can be turned into something that people can read and remember for years to come. I know that never in my life will I forget those stories about Isabel and the guy's, thank you) Discription for those of you who don't know: Peter Tork: Straight, light blond hair, about 6', light brown eye's, sometime's missing a little upstairs (if you know what I mean), sweet and lovable but really girl shy, can say something really smart and not know it, play's keyboard, bass, guitar, piano...etc. Mike Nesmith: Wavy black hair, about 6'2, dark brown eye's, usually reffered to as the leader of the group, has a quick temper, usually the serious one of the group, play's six-string guitar, 12-string guitar, sometimes keyboard, writes most of the song's and occasionally sings them. Micky Dolenz: Curly brown hair that's usually not combed, about 5'10, dark brown eye's, the goofy one, alway's one to pull pranks or slink off after making a mess, blaming it on someone else, yet knows when to be serious. play's drums, guitar, lead vocalist. Davy Jones: Straight, dark brown hair, about 5'3, deep brown eye's, Lady's man, get's the girl more often then not, alway's has something to say, and won't let his oppinion go unheard, play's tamborine, maraca's, learning six-string guitar. Ok, now for the story: PART ONE: SOMETIME IN THE MORNING....... The sun had not yet risen as it's purple and orange ray's began to spring up over the horizon. Micky Dolenz knew it would show it's beautiful face soon enough, then Peter Tork, one of his roomy's, could haul himself out of bed with his Happy Morning Sunshine mood and start making breakfast. When Micky had woke two hour's earlier, his first instinct was to jump on Peter's bed and scream in his ear so he wouldn't have to wait for breakfast. But he thought better of it, knowing it would rouse Mike Nesmith, his other roomy, as well, and then thing's would get ugly. So Micky decided it would be best to just wait. Once he had gotten drest and went to sit on the verendah, he was glad he did. The sunrise was something he hadn't watched for a very long time, and he had begun to forget how pretty it was. Micky sighed as he sat and watched. He had to do this more often..... Then he caught himself. Doing it more often would mean getting up early. ON PORPOUSE! He was not about to do that! He quickly decided that instead of planning on doing it, everytime he woke up early without meaning to, then he would come and watch the sunrise. Any other time was simply out of the ques-- "Micky?" Came the deep, Texan voice from behind him. Micky jumped, whirling around to face Mike, who stood in his boxers and a t-shirt. "Don't do that!" He hissed, so as not to wake anyone else. "Why are out here?" Mike asked, moving to stand next to him. "Couldn't sleep." Micky said, turning back to the beach. "You feelin' ok?" He asked. "Yeah, I'm fine." Micky said, smiling reasuringly at his friend. "Hm. Well, Peter had better get up soon or I'm gonna hafta wake him up myself." Mike said. "Oh, please, may I have the honor?" Micky mock/asked, grinning. "I don't think so, shotgun. If I let you do it, you'd be li'ble to wake the entire neighborhood." Mike joked. Micky just lauphed a little at that, knowing Mike was completely right. By now, the sun had risen just enough so that it was probably popping through the window of the bedroom, Mike thought. "Well, I guess we'd better wake up the other's, we have an audition for that gig this afternoon, and we have to have practice early." Mike said, turning back to go inside. Micky followed behind him. He could just picture hen table. Figures, thought Mike as he lifted the paper back up and continued reading. Micky put a hand over his mouth, which was full of waffles, trying to surpress the laughter. Peter simply watched, thinking mostly the same thing as Mike. Davy changed course and was about to walk in the direction of the couch, when Mike said, not looking up from the paper, "Don't even think about it, shotgun. You got a girlfriend." Davy turned, obviously startled, as he remembered that they were indeed there. Without saying anything, Davy walked over to the table and sat down at his plate of waffles. He muttered something under his breath just before he stuffed a piece of waffle into his mouth, and Mike was the only one to look up. "'Side's, she's too young." He said before taking a sip of coffee. "'Ow d'you know?" Davy asked, with an almost accusing tone of voice. "I can tell. She's gotta be at least seventeen or eighteen." Mike said. "So?!" "SO you're twenty, there's a bit of a difference." Mike said, getting up to refill his mug. Micky snickered, enjoying the conversation as he got up and moved to put his empty dishes in the sink. "Not by much! Four or five yea's isn't oll that much." Davy retorted through a mouthful of food. Peter lauphed a little. "What about Megan?" He asked. Davy paused for just a moment, thinking about Peter's question. "Forget it." Mike said, practically reading Davy's mind. Davy grumbled, shoving another piece of waffle into his mouth. Micky had by now made it to the couch undetected. He looked down at the limp figure, his mind wandering. He had so many question's floating through his head. Who was this anyway? Why was she swimming so early? What happened? Whare was her family? And how long before she wakes up? All these and more....unanswered. "Micky? Did you hear what I said?" Micky jumped slightly at the sound of Mike's voice. "What?" He asked. Mike rolled his eye's as he walked into the living room to get the car key's off of the coffee table. "I'm goin' to the grocery store 'cause we're outta egg's and peanut butter and stuff. I'm droppin' Peter off at the music shoppe. That's leaves you here with her and Davy." Mike then leaned close to Micky and said for only his ear's to hear, "Don't leave'er alone with Davy unless absolutely nessessary." Lucky for them, it was Davy's turn to do dishes, and he didn't hear them through the clattering of plate's and running water. Micky knoded knowingly. Mike then turned and headed out the door, followed by Peter. "Well...What do I do if she wake's up?" Micky called before the door shut. "Just let'er rest, and don't ask too many question's." With that, the door was shut and they were gone. Micky sighed and sat on the edge of the couch. Don't ask too many question's? But I have so many! Oh well, I guess they can wait, Micky thought, knowing whatever Mike said was usually for the best. The phone rang then, and without shutting off the water, Davy leaped to answer it before the second ring. "'Ello?Oh, hi Megan!......Yeah, just cleanin' up aftah breakfast...well, you know me, gotta keep a little o'dah around he'ah..." Micky rolled his eye's. Davy keeping order? Talk about an oxi-moron. Of course, He wasn't one to talk. He did his share of trashing the Pad, that was for sure, he thought with a slight snicker. "...Yeah, that'd be great! I'll meetcha the'eh. Olright, bye!" Davy hung up the phone and headed for the door, whipping off his wet hand's on his shirt as he spoke. "I'm goin' ta meet Megan in the park. Be back in a couple hour's." And with that, he was out the door and gone before Micky could even protest. Now what was he supposed to do? Oh well, it would be a little easier to take care of her without Davy around, he thought. Then his eye's fell on the running water in the sink and the few dishes that Davy hadn't finished. "Darn." He grumbled as he got to his feet and crossed over to the kitchen to finish the dishes. He planned on complaining fully to Mike about this. Davy knew better than to run off without finishing his chore. Awe, forget about it, it's just a couple of dishes, he thought. PART THREE: DON'T YOU BE AFRAID NO MORE About an hour later, Micky sat on a chair in the living room watching tv. "--Local police say they have not yet been able to identify the victim, and no wittnesses have been found. The murder touk place late last night near the corner of West and Main--" Micky shook his head in disgust at the news, when he heard a slight moan from the couch. Micky practically knocked his chair over as he jumped from his chair and hurried over to the couch. He sat on the edge and watched with anticipation. The girl stirred a little before her eye's fluttered open and she peered up at Micky with drowsy blue-green eye's. Micky smiled his childish smile down at her. Her eye brow's went inward in puzzlement. "W-what happened?" She asked, her voice slightly raspy. "You nearly drowned on the beach, I saved you!" Micky said, a little too exitedly. He had faled to mention Mike, he thought. "Drowned? B...Beach?...........H-who are you?" She asked. "I'm Micky Dolenz. My friend and I heard you scream, and we found you on the beach. You were almost dead!" Her eye's widened a little at the last part, and Micky mentally kicked himself for saying something so stupid at this moment. "Whare am I?" She asked then. "My house." Micky answered. He was glad it was a simple question that didn't involve any explination. The girl peered around what little of the room she could see from the couch, pure missunderstanding written across her face. Then she looked up at Micky, staring at him for a minute. He smiled at her again. Then she asked the question that he wouldn't have been expecting in a million year's. "B-but....W-who am I?" She look expectantly at him with eye's that seemed to say "You know, don't you?". Micky looked stuned at her, not knowing how to answer that one. He was hoping she would be able to answer that question for him. "Uh...I'm not really sure. Don't you know?" after a moment, she shook her head. Just then, the door opened with a *thud* and Mike and Peter walked in carrying bag's of groceries. "Hiya Mick!" Peter called cheerily as they walked in. The girl cried out in complete terror and jumped right into Micky's arm's, holding onto him like a life preserver! Mike and Peter stopped in there track's, staring. "What's wrong?!" Micky asked, holding onto her. "Don't let then by me!" She cried. "What's going on?" Mike asked, stunned. "I'm not sure." Micky said. The girl looked at Peter and Mike with fear-glazed eye's, still clinging to Micky. "Are you ok?" Peter asked as he and Mike approached. "No!" She cried in protest of them coming any closer. Within second's, she was behind Micky, holding onto his shoulder's like a shield of protection. "Maybe you guy's should leave." Micky suggested. Mike scowled. He didn't like being told what to do. "I don't think-" "Just do it, would you! You're scaring'er." Micky said. Mike stoud for a moment, watching this strange girl. "Come on." He said, grabbing Peter by the arm and walking out onto the verendah, closing the door behind them. Micky turned to the figure behind him, who was still clinging to him. "It's ok, now. Their gone. You don't have to be scared." He purred as he drew her close to him, trying to comfort her. He could hear her begin to cry as she held onto him. He inwardly moaned just a little bit. How was he supposed to deal with this? Would she be petrified of everyone in sight except him? "Will they be back?" She wimpered. Her voice was like that of a frightened child, and that sent Micky's gut skyhigh. This girl had to be at least seventeen like Mike said, but what could he tell her, they lived here too! "Don't worry, if they come back, I'll protect you." That wouldn't be hard, he thought. There was really no need to protect her from his best friend's. Now, Davy on the other hand..... "I'm so afraid." She cried, burrying her tear stained face in her hand's. "I don't understand what's wrong with me.....whare I came from....." "Do you know your name?" Micky asked, hoping maybe he could get that bit of information at least. She shook her head, and Micky sighed. "Maybe you should rest a little more, then you might remember." He said. She nodded at that, and they both stoud. Her leg's wobbled a little, and she collapsed onto the couch again. "I think I might need help." She noted, blushing sheepishly. Micky smiled and helped her back onto her feet, and up the stair's to their bedroom. She peered into the messy room, her eye's darting around, and her facial expression displaying nothing. "Choose a bed, any bed!" Micky said, using the voice of a television show host, a bad one at that. She smiled slightly. "They're all the same." She said. "Which one's your's?" "This one over here." Micky said, helping her over to his bed. First, he let her sit down on Mike's bed, then he turned and straightened up his own. He pushed off a small pile of dirty clothes and picked up the pillow from off the floor, placing it back on the bed. He pulled the sheet's back and helped her lay down. Then he lifted the blanket's up to her shoulder's. "You'll be near by, won't you?" She asked him. He smiled at her, and kissed her lightly on the forehead, as if she were a child. "I'll be right down stair's. If you want me, just call my name. Micky." He said reasuringly. "I remember it." She said. No sooner had she closed her eye's, she was out like a light. Micky tiptoe'd out of the room, closeing the door as quietly as he could. He sighed as he headed back downstair's. Mike sat out on the sand, leaning on his hand's, watching the rolling waves. He thought about what had just happened. So, he helped save her life, and this is how she show's her gratitude?! Who did she think she was anyway! Mike shook his head, dismissing those thought's. He knew it might not be her fault. After all, if he had nearly drowned, he'd be a little scared too.......But not of people! Peter paced back and fourth on the verendah, wringing his hand's nervously. What if it was something he had done?! Maybe it was he himself that had scared her! "Oh, what'im I gonna do!" He murmered, almost in tear's himself. What if she stayed afraid of him and Mike? What if they would have to leave until she got better? What if-- "Peter?" Peter whirled around, almost screaming. Micky stoud in the doorway, watching him. "She's asleep upstair's, you guy's can come in the house now." He said. Peter sighed, looking back at Mike. He was still watching the waves, lost in thought, not noticing that Micky had come out. "Maybe we'd better let Mike be alone for a while." Peter suggested. Micky followed Peter's gaze and saw Mike sitting on the sand. "Yeah, you're right. Well, you can come on in if you want." He said, heading back into the house. Peter followed him, closing the door behind him. He sat down at the table as Micky sat behind his drum's and began tapping out a smooth beat on the simbles. "Wouldn't that wake'er up?" Peter asked. Micky looked up at Peter, then up at the bedroom. He set the drumstick's down and walked into the kitchen to sit with Peter. "Probly not, but I guess we'd better not take the chance." He sat across from Peter and picked up the paper. There was a moment of silence as Micky read the paper. Peter's eye's had begun to unfocus and he was lost in thought. Micky looked up from the paper and noticed his friend's worried look. "You ok, Pete?" He asked. Peter jerked his head up. "Huh? Oh, yeah...I'm fine. I was just wondering about that girl." He said. "What about her?" Micky asked. "W'll, what if she stayes scared of me and Mike?" Peter's eye's showed his worry, and Micky set the paper down in front of him, facing his friend. "Peter, I'm sure she wont stay scared'a you guy's. She's just had a bit of a shock, that's all. She doesn't even know who she is, wouldn't that make you scared?" Micky said. "Yeah, I guess so....." His eye's widened a little. "She doesn't?" He asked, only just then catching all of what Micky had said. "Nope. She asked me if I knew, 'course, I told her I didn't. Man, I don't know what we're gonna do about her. If she can't even remember her own name-" "We could give'er one!" Peter said, a bit of excitement creeping into his voice. "What? Peter, she's not a pet-" "Yeah, but if she can't remember her own name, we can't just keep calling'er 'That girl', can we?" Micky thought about this for a moment. "I mean, we could give her a real nice name, and call her that until we can figure out who she is!" Peter was smiling now. He liked picking out names. Of course he had never done it with a human, but this would probably be his only chance. "I don't know....." Micky said. "Please?" Micky looked up at Peter as if he were crazy. This was a person, not an animal! Then Micky realized the big mistake he had just made. Peter was looking right at him with that face! That face that he used when he really wanted something really bad! Micky grumbled something under his breath that sounded just a little bit like "All right, all right." Peter's dimples cut deep grooves in his face when the smile broke out. "Gee, thank's Micky! Wait'll I go tell Mike!" And with that, Peter was already out the door. Micky sighed inwardly. Now what were they supposed to do? Picking a name for a seemingly seventeen year old girl was not going to be easy. And what would Mike say at his dicision? "Micky said WHAT!?" Came Mike's yell from on the beach. Peter had left the door open, and Micky heard Mike's yell perfectly. Micky cringed. No sooner had Mike yelled, he was already running into the house, with Peter at his heel's. "You told Peter we were gonna name that kid!?" Mike yelled. Micky jumped from the table. "Ssshhhh! She'll wake up!" Micky hissed. Mike scowled. "Micky, what's e'matter with you! We can't name a human being!" Mike retorted, his voice lower. "I said only until she remember's her own name. Let's just hope she remember's it when she wake's up." Micky said. Peter crossed his arm's in front of his chest, pouting. Mike scowled again. "Fine. But only until she remember's her own." PART FOUR: LOOK OUT, HERE COME'S.......DAVY!? Micky, Peter, and Mike sat out on the verendah, discussing the name bit. "What about Bonny?" Micky sugested. "Bunny?" Peter asked. "No, B_o_nny." Micky corrected, dragging out the O. "Naw, Davy had a girlfriend named Bonny." Mike said. "Oh." "Say, we could call her cookie?" Peter suggested with a smile. Mike and Micky both frowned. "Cookie is a pet name." Mike said. Peter's smile faded. "Well, whadda you think, Mike?" Micky asked. Mike thought for a moment. "Did Davy have a girlfriend named Katie?" "I think so." Peter said. "Well, what about Alice?" "No, I alway's hated that fairy tale." Micky said. "How'bout Megan?" Peter said. "No, that's Davy's girlfriend right now." Mike said. "What about Grace?" Micky said. "Nope, Davy had a girlfriend with that name too." Mike said. "Man, this is gonna be tougher than I thought." Peter sighed. The door to the Monkees' room creaked open, and a small figure emerged. She peered around to make shure that none of the people were around, then she carefully made her way down the stair's, going very slowly, and listening for any sound of a presence other than her own. Feeling a little more at ease when she heard nothing, she continued down the stair's. Suddenly, the front door knob wobbled and the door swung open, revealing Davy! Not noticing her, he shut the door behind him, whisteling to himself. But when he turned around and spotted her, standing as still as a board on the step's in nothing but her bathing suit, he smiled. "Ello, luv!" He greeted, walking over to the stair's. The girl's eye's were fearfully wide, and she didn't move. Davy paused a few feet away from the step's, her eye's staring at him with complete fear. "Hey, ah'you ok?" He asked, not sure if he should get any closer. She didn't answer. Ok, he thought, maybe I should try something else. He cleared his throught, and she jumped slightly. "Um...I'm Davy Jones, What's You'ah name?" He asked. She shook her head, backing up the step's, but keeping both eye's on him. Davy looked puzzling eye's at her. "Wot's wrong?" He asked, approaching her. "Micky!!" She screamed suddenly. Davy jumped back. She can talk, he thought. Micky rushing into the house, followed by Peter and Mike, and pushed past Davy, running up the stair's. The girl clung to him with fear. She cried out again at the sight of Peter and Mike. They grabbed Davy and the three of them rushed outside, shutting the door behind them. "It's ok, their gone.....it's alright now.." He soothed as he cradled her in his arm's on the step's. "Why won't they leave me alone?" She sobbed. Micky continued cradling her, trying to calm her down with soothing word's. It wasn't long before she was calm again, and her grip on him had loosened some. It was then that Micky decided to bite the bullet. "Do you remember anything yet?" She shook her head, and Micky sighed. That meant that they would really have to give her a name. "Would you like me to choose a name for you?" He asked. After a moment, she nodded. Micky thought for a moment. They hadn't even decided on a name yet. "What name would you like?" He asked. "I dunno." She said. "Hm. What about Tommy?" He asked. "Isn't that a boy name?" She asked, looking up at him. "Well, not nessesarilly. It can be a girl name, too." He said enthusiastically. "Ok, that's sound's good." She said. "You hungry?" He asked then, the thought only just then accuring to him, considering it was an hour past his lunch time. She nodded, and he smiled. "C'mon, I'll find something for us to eat....Tommy." He said with a grin, standing. She smiled and stoud up. "Oh, wait. Maybe we'd better get you some clothes first. Stay here, and I'll see what I can dig up." With that, Micky rushed upstair's and into the bedroom. A thought accured to him, whare was he going to find clothes for a teenaged girl in a house boarding four full grown men? He thought for a moment, then an idea hit him. He crossed over to Davy's dressor and pulled open the top drawer, then started to dig through it. After a moment, he pulled out a large, blue nightshirt that had three button's at the top. This should work for now, he thought, tossing it onto Davy's bed. Then he pulled out a pair of boxers and shut the drawer. He picked up the shirt and headed back downstair's. Tommy sat on the stair's, waiting for him. "Here ya go." He said, handing the clothes to her. She smiled slightly and touk them, then followed Micky down the stair's. "You can change in the bathroom." He said, pointing to the bathroom door. And she did just that. After a moment, she emerged from the bathroom. Micky wasn't surprised when he saw that the nightshirt hung well past her knees, he couldn't even see the boxers, and she still wore the bathing suit under the ansamble, as Micky knew she would. "You can sit there at the table, and I'll see what I can dig up." Micky said, pointing at the table as he opened the fridge and began to dig through it. Tommy sat down and watched him, smiling slightly. What a funny person, she thought. "Ya like cool-aid?" He asked, pulling a clear pitcher from the fridge that contained a red liquid. She shrugged, not shure if she did or not. He touk a glass from the cabinet and poured the liquid into it, handing the glass to her. She sipped a little of it, then smiled, taking a bigger drink. He smiled with satisfaction and poured himself a glass, then he placed the pitcher back in the fridge. Then he moved to another cabinet and pulled out three boxes of macaroni & cheese. "You like macaroni?" He asked, showing Tommy the box. Again, she shrugged. Had she forgotten what food's she like'd too? Micky thought. He got out a pot and filled it with water from the sink, then he placed it on the stove and turned the knob, letting it heat up. Micky heard three soft tap's on the verendah door and emmediately remembered that Mike, Peter, and a baffled Davy were waiting for him outside! "What was that?" Tommy asked, looking around. "Uh...Tommy, I'm gonna go outside for a minute to check on something, ok?" Micky said as an excuse so as not the scare her. "Oh....ok. You'll be near by, right?" "Yeah, I'll be just outside." Micky said, heading for the door. He opened it and stepped outside, closing it behind him. Tommy sighed slightly, not liking the strange silence. What if those other's came back? The four Monkees stoud out on the verendah, talking. Mike and Peter had already explained to Davy what they knew about the girl, but as soon as Micky stepped outside and shut the door, they all started asking question's. Micky figured they would. "Does she remember who she is now?" Mike asked. "Yeah, can we give her a name." Peter chimed in. "And when do we get to eat?" Davy asked. "Would you guy's just chill out. No, she doesn't remember who she is. I told her I would give her a name, and she agreed, so I just called her whatever was at the top of my head." Micky said. "Which was?" Mike asked. Micky smiled shyly, slightly emberrased at the name he had given her. "Tommy." He mumbled. "Tommy!?" Mike retorted. "Hmph. I still like cookie." Peter pouted. "But Tommy's a boy name!" Mike said. "There are girl's named Tommy." Davy jumped in. "You'd know." Mike grumbled. "Look, I already gave her the name, and she like's it." Micky continued. "Well, I guess there's nothin' we can do about it now. What's fe'lunch?" Davy asked again, completely changing the subject. "Macaroni and cheese, but I'm not sure that you guy's eating in the house is such a good idea." Micky said. "What!? Why not!?" Davy said. "Because, she's still afraid of everyone but me. I'll go in and talk to her, try to get her used to you guy's. You can eat out here today, can't you?" Micky asked. "Absolutely not! This is our house!" Mike almost yelled. "Just this once, please?" Micky pleaded, hand's on front of him in a praying motion. Mike cursed under his breath, he did not like this turn of event's at all. "Yeah. Fine. Ok, but only today." Mike agreed. Micky went back into the kitchen, noticing that the water was now boiling. He opened the boxes and poured the content's into the pot, setting the timer and stirring it a couple times. "Whare did you go?" Tommy asked him. "Um....Just, outside. I thought I heard a noise." He lied. Tommy nodded slightly, her eye's falling onto her half empty glass of kool-aid. Micky hesitated for a moment, then decided now was as good a time as any. "Tommy...um...The other's aren't dangerous, ya know. They're actually my friend's, and....to be honest...They...uh...they live here." Micky said the last word's in a slightly hushed tone, and Tommy did not look up. She didn't say anything, either. Micky looked over at her, and could tell that she had heard every word he had said. "Tommy, you don't have to be afraid of them. They're really nice guy's. One of'em even helped me save your life on the beach." Tommy looked up at him with that said, but still, she didn't say anything. Micky sighed. Leaving the pot, he crossed over to sit next to her at the table. "Would you be willing to meet them, just once. And if you don't like them, I'll make them leave. Deal?" Tommy didn't answer, instead she continued to stare at her glass. Micky lifted her chin to look at him, and smiled at her. "Please?" He pleaded, putting on his best baby-face act. She smiled, and after a moment, she nodded slightly. Micky gave her a hug. "Don't worry, I'll protect you if you need it. Now, let's eat some lunch!" Once the food was done, Micky touk three bowl's out to Mike, Peter, and Davy. Then he made two more for him a Tommy. After eating, Micky asked if she was ready to meet the other's, and she agreed. Micky went out onto the verendah, and told the guy's what Tommy said, and that he thought maybe it would better if they come in one at a time, so as not to put too much pressure on her. They agreed that Mike go in first, considering the fact that he had helped save her life. Tommy sat on the couch, clutching a pillow. She wasn't quite sure about all this. Of course, it was too late to change her mind now. She glanced up suddenly as Micky walked into the house from off the verendah, followed by Mike, who wasn't all that sure on how to approach her or what to say. "Tommy, this is Mike. He's the one who helped me save your life. And....uh....He's a real nice guy." Micky spat out the last few word's with a slight grin. "Hi." Mike drawled, not sure wether or not he should reach out to shake her hand. "H-hi." Tommy said, still clutching the pillow. This isn't going as well as I'd hoped, Micky thought. He walked over to Tommy and usherred her from the couch, getting her to stand and leave the pillow on the seat. "He's not gonna bite." He whispered as he motioned for Mike to come closer. Mike did, and Tommy retreated a bit, slightly tightening her grip on Micky's arm. Micky put an arm around her shoulder, trying to comfort her, and at the same time, trying to keep her from running or crying out in fear. Mike stopped and stoud just in front of her, looking straight at her. He tried in vein to find the right thing to say, but what do you say in a situation like this? "Ya like the house?" He asked, suddenly. She hesitated, then nodded. "That's good. It may not be what a person would call clean, but it work's. Ya like music?" She shrugged. "Well, you will after you hear us." He said rather self-confidently. Micky kicked him slightly. "What?" Mike asked him, innocently. "Maybe it's time you met one of the other's." Micky suggested. "Go get one of the guy's and tell'em to come in here." Micky told Mike. Mike scowled inwardly as he headed tword the door. He was used to giving order's, not having order's given to him. "It was nice ta'meet ya." He called over his shoulder as he opened the door and walked outside. After a moment, Peter came in, a dimpled grin spread across his face. Micky figured that he had one the shoot against Davy to be next, and smiled. "Hi! I'm Peter." Peter said, walking right up to her and reaching out to shake her hand. At first, Tommy didn't do anything but stare, not sure wether or not to trust this guy. Peter looked down at his hand with a puzzled expression, then looked back up at Tommy. Micky nudged her slightly, and she slowly and cautiously reached out to shake his hand. Peter touk her hand in his and shook it warmly, smiling again. "I hope ya like stuff with blueberry's in it, 'cause I'm the one who usually makes breakfast." Peter said, not really thinking that saying something like that wouldn't really have much of a point. "You have blond hair." Tommy said suddenly. Micky looked at her with a slightly shocked expression. She hadn't said a word since he went to get Mike except 'Hi'! Even though what she said was something kind of pointless, she still said something! Peter smiled, oblivious to this fact, and ran his finger's through his hair, as if to remind him that it was even there. "Yes, I do. Do you like it?" He asked. She nodded, smiling slightly. Peter's dimples cut deep grooves in his face as he smiled. "I guess I'll go get Davy now." He said, turned to go. "You can all come in, if you want." Tommy said. Micky smiled, his plan had worked after all. "Ok." Peter went outside to get Davy and Mike. He came back in moment's later, followed only by Davy. "Whare's Mike?" Micky asked. "He went fo'eh walk." Davy replied. His eye's fell on Tommy and he smiled. The first thing he noticed was that she wasn't in nothing but her bathing suit anymore. But then he noticed something else. She was wearing HIS clothes! Davy didn't let his smile fall as he noted the fact, but he planned on having a little chat with Micky later on. "Ello, luv!" He said. Without hesitation, he reached down and touk her right hand, lightly kissing the back of it. She smiled, and her cheek's went slightly red. "My name's Davy Jones, you must be Tommy." He said, his charm evident. Tommy nodded, noting that he hadn't yet let go of her hand. Micky noted this too. "Alright, lover-boy, enough with the smooth act." He chuckled, removing Davy's hand from Tommy's, who laughed slightly. Just then, a loud pounding erupted on the front door, and Tommy jumped, grabbing hold of Micky. Perfect timing, he thought sarcastically, knowing who it probably was. "I'll get it." Peter said, strolling over to the door and heaving it open. There stood Mr. Babbitt, the landlord, with his hand's on his hip's and a frown on his face. "You're almost a week late with the rent, Tork!" Peter still held a tight grip on his Happy Moring Sunshine mood as he regarded Babbitt with a smile. "Hiya, mister B." He greeted cheerily. It didn't take long before Babbitt's eye's fell apon the young girl, who was obviously hiding behind Micky, and his brow's went inward in puzzlement. "Who's this? Jones' latest girlfriend?" He asked, his word's dripping with sarcasme. Micky let out a frustrating sigh, and brought Tommy around to stand in front of him. "Mr. Babbitt, this is Tommy, Tommy, Mr. Babbitt." He said, but she didn't make any move tword him. Mr. Babbitt regarded her strangely, looking her up and down. "Strange little thing, ain't she." He mumbled mostly to himself. Micky leaned close to Tommy's ear and whispered, "He's not gonne bite, Tommy." Repeating the word's he'd used only minutes ago. "I wouldn't be too sure about that." Davy mumbled under his breath so Babbitt couldn't hear, and Micky kicked his leg, causing him to stumble slightly. "Well, I guess I can say it was nice t'meet you." He said, reaching out to shake her hand. She shook the old man's hand briefly before he turned to Peter and spoke. "I suppose the rent can wait another day, but you had better get your act together, and soon!" And with that, he was gone. They all let out a long sigh of relief, each at there own pitch and volume. They all eventually ended up on the couch, Tommy still cuddled safely in Micky's arm's, talking. Mike had joined them not long after, and everything was going smoothly. Micky smiled inwardly. Even though she still wouldn't leave his protectivness, and wouldn't go anywhare near the other's other than a handshake, at least she was talking to them, somewhat. It was a good start, he thought. TWO DAY'S LATER Thing's had been getting steadily easier each day. Much to the relief of Micky and the other's. Tommy was getting more used to being around other people, but she was still quite attached to Micky, looking at him as her only source of trust and protection. They hadn't been able to dig up much for her to wear accept for some stuff of Davy's, which they really didn't have much of a choice. Tommy and Davy were pretty close to the same size, in height anyway. Tommy had been sleeping in Micky's bed the past two night's, after Micky insisted that she did. But the first night, she awoke crying out in fear and screaming for Micky, her face streaked with tear's. So the second night, Micky slept next to her on the bed, singing softly in order to put her to sleep with more ease. After she had fallen asleep, he moved onto the bed he had made on the floor, and fell asleep whare he could be close to her, incase she did have another nightmere. But she didn't. It was this morning that Tommy came downstair's with more of a safe feeling, and saw that everybody else was already up. Peter was making pancakes, and Mike, Davy, and Micky were already eating. "Mornin' Tommy!" Peter called out, his usual good-morning mood showing through. Mike smiled at her over the edge of his paper. "Morning!" Davy and Micky both chorused through mouthfull's of food. Tommy smiled and sat down next to Micky, and Peter put a plate of pancakes in front of her. "G'morning!" She said. "You guy's gonna wanna practice after breakfast? We have that gig tonight, remember?" Mike said, setting the paper down on the table. "That's right, we do'ave a gig, don't we!" Davy said. "I completely fo'got." "I guess we better, huh? We haven't in a while, we gotta catch up." Peter said, sitting down to his own plate. There was a slight pause as they ate. "I have a question." Tommy said, breaking the sudden silence. She had a tendancy to do that sometimes, Micky thought. "What is it?" Mike asked. "If you were to take two apples from three apples, how many would you have?" Four pair's of astonished eye's fell apon Tommy. "Wot!?" Davy asked, almost choking on his food. Tommy repeated the question. "If you take two apples from three apples, how many would you have?" "One." Micky said, with a Duh-what-a-stupid-question look on his face. Tommy shook her head. "I know! It's two!" Peter said, slightly grinning. "It can't be two, Peter, don't you know how to count?" Mike retorted. "He's right." Tommy said. "It is two. What you take is what you have." There was a silence. "......Of cou'se, I knew that." Davy lied. Micky and Mike both gave him sarcastic "yeah right" look's. "I have another question." Tommy said. "Ok, you need to listen closely to this one. I'm gonna use your name, ok." she said, pointing to Davy, who nodded. She cleared her throat. "Davy kicked the door open and surveyed a very puzzling scene." Tommy started, sounding as if she were telling a story. "A man hung from the end of a rope in a room measuring five meters by five meters by five meters. There was water on the floor. In one corner of the room was a bed. In another corned a chair and table stood beside an open window. The only door into the room had been locked from the inside. The distance from the floor to the hanging dead man's shoes was two meters. It appeared to be a simple suicide except for the fact that the man's feet were so far off the floor, and there was no apparent object for him to have stood on. How was the man able to commit suicide?" Tommy finished, and looked at the four dumbstruck faces in front of her. No one said a word, and Tommy's face fell. "Did I do something wrong?" She asked, tensing a little. "Oh, no! Of course not....it's just that....man, whare'd you get that one?" Micky asked, half his mind trying to solve the problem. Tommy shrugged. "I thought it up a while back. Anybody know the answer?" Everyone shook their head's, completely baffled. PART FIVE: POSING AS A FATHER That afternoon, they had practiced as planned. Tommy sat on the couch and watched them with a wide look of interrest, her question briefly forgotten by everyone. She listened intently to the music as her mind drifted away in thought. She smiled as Micky sang, and it made him feel good. This girl was strange, he thought. After practice, before they left to go, Micky pulled Mike aside for a private conversation. "Mike, what are we gonna do with Tommy, with all those people there, she might freak out." Micky said, a look of worry on his face. "We could leave'er here." Mike suggested, not liking the idea, but not having any other. "No way, I have to be near her incase anything happens." Micky emmediately disagreed. "W'll, then let's take'er. She can stay back stage and watch us from there. There's usually never anybody back there, and she'll be close by." Mike said. Micky thought about this for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, that sound's good." He explained their plan to Tommy, and she agreed. When they got to the club they were playing at, Zippolies or something like that, they were told to go around to the back entrance and enter that way. They walked around the small building and found the back door. Entering, they walked a little way's until they were stopped by a women in her early thirty's. "Who are you?" She asked. "We're the Monkees, we were scheduled to play tonight." Mike explained. The women smiled at that. "Of course, come around this way and we'll get you set up." She said, usherring them in another direction. Suddenly, the women turned to Tommy, a slightly irritated expression on her face. "I'm sorry, you'll have to wait outside, young lady." She said, as if ready to pull Tommy out of the building by the arm. "She's with us!" Micky said suddenly when Tommy grabbed onto him with fear. He didn't want her to scream. "Is she a member of the band?" The women asked, eyeing Tommy suspiciusly. "No, but-" "Then I'm sorry, but she must leave-" The women started to say. "But she's my daughter!" Mike barked suddenly. Three Monkees and Tommy stared at him, awestruck. "She is." The women said, looking from Tommy to Mike, trying to see any resemblance. "Yes. And I want her backstage with me." Mike said, feeling he had the upper hand. "Very well." The women said. She then led them to an area backstage whare they could practice. After giving them brief instruction's, she left. "So that's how we're gonna do it from now on. If they won't let you in, you're my daughter. Got it?" Everyone shook their head, not wanting or daring to argue with Mike. The gig went well enough. Tommy sat and watched from backstage as planned, and no one came back there. The music went well. "I'm a believer", "Last train to Clarksville", "Your Auntie Grizelda", "Mary,Mary", and "Lauph" were among the song's they played in the first half. After the short break, they played "You just may be the one", "She", "Saterday's child," and "Look out, here come's tomorrow". During the whole show, it was Peter who's mind was searching for the answer to Tommy's baffling question. How did he do it? It was so complicated. She said there was water on the floor, and the window was open, and there was nothing he could have stoud on.....So how did he do it? He had to know! After packing the stuff in the Monkeemobile, Mike climbed into the driver's seat, and Micky climbed into his usual spot in the passengers seat. Tommy didn't seem to mind that she couldn't sit next to him as she climbed in the back with Peter and Davy. "So how'd ya like the show?" Davy asked as Mike started up the car. "It was groovy!" Tommy replied enthusiastically. "You guy's should make a record." Most of them paused at that. A record? They had never thought about that before, and it didn't seem like a bad idea. "Maybe someday." Mike said as he drove on. Peter was oblivious to the conversation, staring out the window, still thinking about the question. In fact, he didn't say much of anything the rest of the night. His mind hadn't been quite there, but no one noticed his sudden quietness. PART SIX: SOMETIME IN THE EVENING..... Tommy awoke with a start, feeling a strange presence. From what she could see, Mike and Davy were sound asleep. Mike lay straight on his stomach, not making a peep. Davy, on the other hand, was curled up like a cat, and snoring like a pig! Tommy shifted and looked over the edge of the bed, and saw Micky sprawled out on his sleeping bag, the blanket's barely on him. She smiled slightly, and sat up slowly, rubbing at her eye's. She turned around and gasped, nearly falling off the bed. Peter had been sitting on the edge of his bed, facing her bed (or Micky's). He jumped at the sound of her shock, and only just now noticed that she had woken up. "Oh! I'm sorry, did I wake you?" Peter asked. "Well...I'm not sure..I just kind of woke up on my own." Tommy said. She didn't feel completely safe having him be awake, but she knew Micky was close by, so she felt more at ease. "Why aren't you asleep?" She asked. "I couldn't sleep." He replied. "You were awefully quiet earlier, did I do something wrong?" She asked. Peter smiled slightly. She seemed so much like him, alway's worried about doing the wrong thing, never sure what to do and what not to do. "No, of course not. I was just thinkin' about that question you asked earlier." Peter said. Tommy looked puzzling eye's at him, clearly not understanding. "You know, the one about the man and the room and stuff." Peter said. "Oh yes, of course. I asked that. Did you figure it out?" He shook his head. "Nope. Could you tell me?" He asked. She shook her head. "Awe, come on, it's eatin' me up and I can't sleep until I know." Peter pleaded, puppy-dog eye's begging. Tommy smiled. "Oh, alright. Davy figured that the man had to have jumped off of something. So, seeing the water on the floor, Davy figured that the man must have jumped off of a big ice block, leaving the window open to melt the ice, leaving the puddle of water as the only clue." Tommy explained. Peter's expression was unreadable, and she smiled. "Can you sleep now?" She asked. "Uh...Yeah, I think so." He smiled, flashing dimples at her. "Thank's. I coulda gone crazy tryin' to figure it out." Peter said. He leaned over and kissed her cheek softly. "I have another question." Tommy said, grinning slightly. "Oh please, can you tell me tomorrow, I'll never sleep." He said. "Ok." She said, laying back down, as did he. "Peter?" Tommy said. "Yeah?" "Can you sing Antie Grizelda to me?" She asked. Peter was a bit surprised, but agreed. "Sure." And so, softly and smoothly, he sang his solo to her until she fell asleep. It was near six when Tommy awoke the next morning. She hadn't had another nightmere, she simply woke up. She decided that maybe this would be a good time to take a shower. After three day's, she figured that she really needed one! Tommy quietly crawled out of bed, trying not to step on Micky or make any noise, and slipped into the bathroom. After shutting the door, she looked around. Was she certain that she remembered how to do this? Oh, come on, how hard could it be? Tommy set to work turning on the shower and making the temperature just right. She found the shampoo, conditioner, soap, and a rag. Then she dug through the drawers and cabinet's until she found an unopened packet or razors. She wasn't about to use one of theirs! She put it all on the shower floor and began to take off Mike's oversized t-shirt and Micky's boxer's. Then she touk her bathing suit off and got in. It felt good being clean again, she thought with a smile. After a moment, there was a knock at the door. Tommy jumped in terror at the sudden sound. "Tommy? Is that you?" She heard Mike ask. "Yeah." She said, praying to God that he wouldn't come in. Of course, she knew he wouldn't, but she still didn't feel comfertable around him, or Davy. The only one she was actually starting to feel comfortable around in the least was Peter. "Oh, ok. I was just wonderin'." And then he was gone. Tommy sighed, a wave of relief running over her. It didn't take her long to finish up in the shower. When the light aroma of blueberry muffin's hit her, she quickened her pace. She shut off the water and wrung her hair out. She was just stepping over the edge of the tub when there was another knock at the door. Tommy jumped, startled again, and slipped on the bottom of the bathtub! She screamed and hit the bathroom floor with a *THUD*! A bottle of shaving cream teetred on the counter top and fell to the floor, the top flying off. Shaving cream began spraying everywhare! Micky jumped from his seat at the kitchen table at the sudden noise from upstair's. "Tommy!?" He called. Davy stoud at the bathroom door, a sudden look of shock on his face. All he did was knock! "Tommy, a'you olright?" He asked through the door. "Micky!!" He heard her cry. At that moment, Micky burst into the room. "What happened?" He asked. "Micky, help!" Came the cry from within the bathroom. Micky pushed Davy aside and pulled the bathroom door open. Her current state only stopped him for a moment before he grabbed a hold of the shaving cream bottle and threw it in the toilet, anywhare out of the way. Then he ran to help Tommy up off the floor. She was crying, whipping madly at her eye's that had been sprayed with shaving cream! Mike ran into the room then. Not looking into the bathroom, he emmediately grabbed Davy and hauled him out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. "What were you doing!" He yelled, dragging Davy down the stair's by the arm. "It wasn't my fault! I thought you we'in the'eh!" Davy protested. "Well think to ask next time!" Mike scolded, forcing Davy into a seat at the table, then taking his seat back. "I was going to! Oll I did was knock!" Davy yelled. "What happened up there?" Peter asked. "Is Tommy alright?" He had that dreadfully woried look on his face again. "Yeah, she's probably alright. Her dignity's probably crushed, though." Mike grumbled. Peter stared wide eye'd at Davy, complete shock in his face. "You DIDN'T!?" Peter accused. "You're right! I didn't!! She slipped on the bathroom flo'eh!" Davy yelled. Peter's expression changed at that. "Oh." He said. "Than what's Mike so mad about?" He asked. "He just stoud there starin' at her!!" Mike burst out. "Davy!!" Peter cried. "I didn't do it on purpose!!" Davy yelled again. Tommy sat on the toilet, a towel wrapped around her, crying. Micky was nealing in front of her, whiping her eye's with a clean washrag. "All I was trying to do was take a shower." She sniffed. "I know, it's ok. It wasn't your fault." Micky said, trying to gently rub the last bit of shaving cream from her eye's. "He saw me, didn't he?" She said. "Who?" Micky asked. "That short guy, Davy." She replied, another tear falling from her eye. This fact had only just then accured to Micky. Davy had been standing right there when he opened the bathroom door, and he never thought to shut it! You Idiot, he cried mentally to himself. Then something else accured to him. Tommy had called to him for help, and he had seen her without her clothes on! She didn't even care!! This gave Micky a weird feeling, like she was depending apon him too much. His mind suddenly snapped back to reality when he remembered what Tommy had said in the first place. "Well, I guess he did, but it's ok." He said. Yeah right, he thought. He was going to have to have a long talk with Davy later. "I don't think he meant to." "Yeah, I know." She said. Micky tossed the washrag into the sink. "Whadda ya say we get you some clothes?" He said, standing. She nodded and followed him into the bedroom, whare she sat back down on Davy's bed. Micky pulled a pair of jean's from Davy's bottom drawer and handed them to her. After discovering that Davy had no clean shirt's that she could whare that would match, Micky pulled a t-shirt out of Peter's drawer and gave it to her. "I'm gonna leave so you can change, alright?" Micky said, heading tword the door. "Ok." Tommy said. After he had left, Tommy went back into the bathroom and got her bathing suit, putting that on first. Her mind was racing the whole time she got dressed. What would she say to Davy? What would he say to her! the whole thing was so emberresing! Micky was one thing, but Davy was completely different. She trusted Micky with her life. She didn't trust Davy any further than she could throw him. "Mike, we got another problem." Micky said as he plopped down into his respective seat at the table. "What is it?" Mike asked, placing his coffee cup in the sink. "Tommy need's some clothes. Or at least another bathing suit or something. We can't let her wear the same one every day." Micky replied. "Eeeeewwww!" Peter exclaimed from the bandstand as he fooled around with Mike's 12-string. "Exactly. So, I think one of us should go out and get her some stuff." Micky said. "Mick, I don't think we can afford a bunch of stuff." Mike said. "Well, then don't get a bunch of stuff, just a bathing suit. We can't exactly shop for anything else for her to wear under her clothes." Micky said through a mouthful of blueberry muffin. Peter cringed and hit a sour note at this comment. Mike cringed at the sour note. "Fine." He said. There was a pause as the two Monkees looked at each other, then they both turned and looked straight at Peter. Peter felt their stares and looked up at them. After a moment, he realized what they were getting at by looking at him like that, and he hit a MAJOR sour note. "Oh, come on, guy's." He pleaded. "Why can't one of you do it?" "I have to get groceries." Mike said, satisfied with using the excuse before Micky had a chance to. "I have to clean up the shaving cream and water mess in the bathroom upstair's." Micky said. "What about Davy?" Peter asked hopefully. "Davy won't want to do anything after what he saw." Mike grumbled, remembering the accident. "Hey, whare is Davy anyway?" Micky asked, only just then realizing that he didn't know Davy wasn't there. "He high tailed it onto the beach after breakfast. He didn't want to face Tommy again so soon." Mike explained. "Oh." Was all Micky said. Peter pouted as he set the 12-string against the speaker. He really didn't want this job. Tommy came down the stair's then, cautiosly peering around the pad. "He went outside." Micky said. Tommy calmed a little and walked into the kitchen, sitting down next to Micky. Wait a minute, Peter thought, didn't Micky see Tommy in the bathroom, too? He pushed this thought out of his head for the moment. "You wanna go with Peter to town? He's gonna look for a new bathing suit for ya." Micky said. Tommy paused, looking over at Peter for a moment, then at Micky, then back at her muffin. She didn't really want to be very far away from Micky, but she didn't want to say no to him, either. "I guess so." She said, taking a bite out of her muffin. "Great!" "Mike's gonna go grocery shoppin' later, so he can drop you guy's off wharever and you want to look around." Micky said. "But, I think before you leave, maybe you should....uh....talk to Davy first." Micky sugested. Tommy's face turned a little pale. "He's really upset about what happened, and I think he'd feel better if you talked to him." Tommy gave Micky a "Do I have to?" look, pleading with her eye's. "You don't have to if you don't want to, it was just a suggestion. But I think it'd make ya both feel better if you got it out in the open now instead of later. You won't have any fun in town with Peter if you worry about it all day!" Micky said the last part with a grin as he got up from the table and threw his napkin in the garbage. "He's out on the beach if you change your mind." Micky said, walking into the other room, leaving Tommy with her thought's. Mike had left some time in the middle of the conversation un-noticed, and Peter still sat on the bandstand, just thinking. Tommy quietly slipped off of her chair and out the back door to the verendah, leaving her muffin on the table. "Ya know-" Micky started, turning to face the table, and noticing that she was gone. "Hey, whare'd she go?" He asked. Peter tilted his head tword the door, and Micky smiled. PART SEVEN: YOU DON'T SEEM TO MAKE NO SENSE Davy sat on a large stone some distance away from the Pad, staring out at the ocean, his mind completely away in thought. What would happen now? She probably hated him now. It wasn't his fault, Micky was the one who opened the door. He hadn't meant to see what he saw. What would he say to her? Would he even have the gut's to say anything? Davy cursed lowly. This was most definately one of the worst situation's he'd ever been in. Then he thought about how she would feel. He felt worse for her than he did for himself. A light tap brought Davy back to reality, but didn't startle him. He turned his head slightly and, seeing Tommy, his eye's went wide. He pulled away slightly, nearly falling off of the stone he sat on. "Ello." He said nervously. Now what, he thought. After a very long, uncomfortable silence, Tommy sat down indian style on the sand. Ok, now what do I say, she thought. She was terrified enough to be out here with the one she trusted least. So far away from Micky and the Pad, alone! "Uh, sorry I.....uh...did that." Davy stuttered suddenly. "I thought it was Mike in the'eh. I mean, I neveh would 'ave done that if I'd've known it was you. And I neveh really ment to see wot I saw, it just happened so fast and all thet-" "It's ok." Tommy cut Davy off mid-sentance. He hadn't meant to ramble, but he really WAS sorry, for her sake. He looked down at her from atop his rock. "Really?" He asked, his voice cracking slightly in surprise. "Yeah, I know it wasn't your fault." She said, not looking at him. He noted that she hadn't actually looked straight at him since she came out. "How come you didn't mind Micky?" Davy asked then. He knew it wasn't really his place to ask, but he had to know. It was eating him up inside. She seemed to be thinking about her answer. "I don't know." She said finally. "I do." Davy said, praying to God that he was right. "You do?" She asked, still not looking at him. She still didn't feel good about being out here with him, alone. "Shu'ah, you trust'im. He's the feh'st pe'son you saw when you woke up, and not knowing anybody else, you put all you'ah trust in'im. It's pe'fectly unde'standable, I guess." He studied her for a minute, noting a few more thing's. First, she didn't seem to understand fully what he meant. Then again, neither did he, but it made a little sense, to him anyway. Second, her body seemed tensed up, as if she was ready to run at any given moment. She wasn't completely relaxed. In fact, she was barely relaxed at all. And third, she still hadn't looked at him in all this time. Then he realized why. "You don't have to be afraid of me, ya know. I don't bite." He said. This time, and slightly to Davy's surprise but pleasure, she looked up at him, her expression unreadable. For a moment, she didn't say anything, then she turned back to the water. "I know." Was her simple reply. Davy sighed inwardly, this was going no whare fast, and if he didn't do something about it quickly, he'd go insane. Quietly and slowly, so as not to startle her, he slid off of his rock and sat down next to her on the sand, stretching his leg's out in front of him. Tommy's eye's went wide in fear at the knowledge that he was closer now, and she tensed up more. The worse part was, she didn't even know why she was so scared of him. Davy blew out air from his cheek's and turned to face her. "See." He said. "You'ah still alive." He smiled. She didn't look at him, just stared wide eye'd at the ocean. But Davy wouldn't give up that easily. He wouldn't let her stay afraid of him forever. "Tommy, what is it about me thet sca'eh's you?" Tommy looked down at the sand, almost with an ashamed look. She simply didn't know. This was all so confusing to her. Why she was scared, she had no idea. How she got into this mess, she had no idea. Why Micky was the only one she trusted, she just didn't know! Tommy pulled her knees up against her chest, hugging them tightly. "I'm sorry." She almost whispered, and a small tear rolled down the side of her face and fell to the sand. Now look what you've done, Davy scolded himself. "No, Tommy, I'm sorry. I shouldn't 'ave asked that. It's not my place-" Davy started, but Tommy cut him off. "No, you're wrong. You have every right to know....I just.....I can't answer that question......I don't know..." More tear's came. "I wish I could tell you, I really do. I wish I could tell you who I am, and how all of this got started.....but I can't." She cried. Davy didn't know what to do. His first instinct was to put his arm around her shoulder and try to comfort her, but he was worried that anything he did might frighten her. But he couldn't just sit there and watch her cry, either. He hated to see a women cry. Slowly and gently, he raised his arm about her shoulder, hesitating a moment before touching her in the slightest. When he did, she didn't do anything, not even acknowledge it. So, he let his arm rest around her shoulders with a little more confidence. "You'ah alright. Thing's will turn out fo'ah the best. They alway's have, and they alway's will. That's a promise." He said with a smile. She looked up at him, her eye's red with tear's. Her look wasn't at all that of a trusting one, but more like a thank-you one. Davy could tell easily from the simple contact he had made that she was still tensed up, but it didn't bother him. At least she wasn't screaming, he thought with a slight, inward smile. "Whare do you wanna go first?" Peter asked as he stoud with Tommy at the corner of the street. Tommy shrugged, wishing for the millionth time that Micky was there. She didn't feel at all good about being around so many people. But she was glad that at least Peter was there with her. "Well, whadda ya say we take a look around and see what we can find." Peter continued, reaching out and taking her by the hand. She clasped her fingers around his as they began to walk down the sidewalk, this gave her more comfort. Micky had warned Peter about this. 'Make sure she's with you at all times. Never leave her alone.' Micky had said. He explained to Peter that with all the people that would surely be around, Tommy was bound to be on edge, and he warned Peter not to be too surprised if she clung to him when something happened. That's why Peter had offered to hold her hand. Not that she was a child, but because he wanted her to feel safe with him. The first place they went to was a wild little store that Peter liked, whare they sold alot of those bright, colorful shirt's. But they didn't find anything there that was right for Tommy. The next store they went to had lot's of stuff, and they found everything pretty easily. "How about this one?" Peter asked, holding up a forest green bathing suit for her to see. "Yeah, I like that. How much is it?" Tommy asked. Peter looked at the tag. "Not too much. It's actually pretty cheap. Let's see if we can find a skirt or somethin' so you can whare somethin' other then Davy's boxer's and jean's." Peter said with a slight grin. "Ok." She replied. They made their way over to some of the girl clothes and started looking. Peter wasn't all that comfortable with searching through the girl's section of a store, but he never let it show. He quickly spotted something he thought Tommy might like. "How about this?" He asked, pulling a knee high, deep grey skirt from the rack. It had deep, blue grooves that made it spread out if you spinned around. Tommy smiled. "That's nice, how much?" Peter rolled his eye's and smiled, looking at the tag. She alway's had to know. "It's reasonable for something like this. You wanna get it?" He said. Tommy shrugged. "Well, you look it over and I'll see what else I can find." Peter suggested, handing the skirt over to her. She turned it all around, looking it over like Peter had said. Suddenly, she got a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach, and she glanced up, as if someone were there. "Tommy? Did you hear what I said?" Tommy nearly jumped at the sound of Peter's voice. Peter looked around the side of the rack. "Huh?" "I said are you ok?" Tommy cast a nervous glance behind her, feeling a strange presence. "Peter, can we leave now?" Tommy asked, her voice cracking slightly. "Yeah, we can leave. Did you get everything you wanted?" Peter asked. "Uh huh. I just want to leave." Tommy said. Peter had a bad feeling about this. He put his hand's gently on her shoulder's and bent down a little to look straight at her. "Tommy, are you sure you're ok?" He asked. Tommy looked at him, plain fear etched in her face and eye's. Peter touk that as a no. "Ok, come on. Let's pay for the stuff and get outta here." Peter continued, now becoming slightly worried himself. He touk her by the hand and they walked to the service desk to perchase their thing's. Moment's later, they were walking hand in hand down the sidewalk. Peter didn't ask what it was that was bothering her. In all honesty, he really didn't want to know. It just seemed like a normal store to him. Maybe there was something she knew that he didn't? Oh well, it's over now, and Tommy seem's to be more at ease, Peter thought. "Peter, I have a question." Tommy said suddenly. "Oh, ok. I was wondering when you'd ask. Go ahead, I'm listening." Peter replied, all ears. "Ok, there were two car's driving down a road, and they stopped in front of a park gate. Seven men got out of the two car's and made there way along the pathway's of the park, when it started to rain. Six of the men started walking faster to get out of the rain, but the seventh man couldn't be bothered. Ironically, it was the seventh man who stayed dry, while the other six got soaked. Since they all arrived at their destination at the same time, how was this possible?" Tommy explained the question, and Peter screwed up his face in thought. How was it possible? "Do you know?" Tommy asked. Peter smiled, absent mindedly. "It might take a while." He replied. But his train of thought was momentarily distracted when he spotted something at the corner of the next street. First he looked at Tommy, then back again, and he smiled. Peter had an idea! But little did they both know, that there was someone watching them from across the street. PART EIGHT: WHY DON'T YOU CUT YOUR HAIR "We're back!" Peter called happily as he and Tommy entered the Pad through the front door. "Ssshhhh! Quiet Peter! Davy's asleep." Mike hissed from in the bathroom. Peter glanced over tword the couch and, sure enough, Davy lay sprawled out, snoring rather loudly. "How can he sleep through noise that loud?" Tommy asked. Peter smiled, setting the shopping bag on the table. "I guess you could say it's a gift." He said, looking over at Tommy. He gazed at her happily for a moment. He was proud of his idea, it had worked great. There was indeed something different about Tommy. Mike emerged from the bathroom moment's later. "So how'd it go-" He stopped short. One look at Tommy, and Mike lost his ability to speak. Almost. "Peter! What did you DO!?" He almost yelled, staring wide eye'd at Tommy. "Wha-" Davy was jerked awake from the sudden noise. "Now look what you did." Peter said, indicating Davy. "Who cares! Look at her hair!" Mike shouted. He ran his finger's through her hair, pulling it back to get a good look, and trying to decide if there was anything they could do about it. The shouts brought Micky out of the bedroom, and he stoud at the rail of the balcony. "Hey? What's goin' on down-" He touk one look at Tommy and his gaze emmediately trained on Peter. "What happened!?" He asked, rushing down the stair's. "I touk her to get her hair cut. Don't you like it?" Peter asked, a slightly worried look on his face. "Like it! It...It look's just like your's!!" Micky retorted, shoving Mike aside to have a better look. "Actually, it looks more like Davy's." Mike commented. It was true, Tommy's use'd-to-be long, dark brown hair now looked almost identical to Davy's, but slightly like Peter's. It was closer to Davy's, though, because it was so dark. "Woa! Groovy, man!" Davy said, leaping from the couch. He reached up and played with her hair a little, looking it over. Then he turned to a mirror hanging on the wall. Just like mine, he thought with a wry smile. "Well, I guess there's nothin' we can do about it now." Mike said. "Of cou'se the'eh's nothin' we can do about it." Davy said in protest to the very idea of changing it. Micky rolled his eye's. "You would like it." He said. "Well, isn't it Tommy's choice? I mean, it is her hair and all." Peter said. Micky gave this thought. Peter was right, it was Tommy's choice. "What do you think, Tommy?" He asked. All eye's fell on her, waiting. Tommy didn't know what to say. If she said she liked it, it might dissapoint Micky, but if she said she didn't like it, she'd hurt Peter's feeling's. So she simply shrugged. "It doesn't matter, does it? We can't change it now." She said. There, she thought, that was a good reply. "Yeah, I guess it'll have t'do for now. Besides, it'll grow back." Micky said with a slight smile. "That's that, then! Now you can fit right in with us." Davy said with a wide smile. Tommy looked around...The world was a huge blurr of blue and faint color's... Someone was holding her down....She couldn't breath! She didn't know whare she was, but there were people there...... So many many people....All talking at once, telling her thing's..... Their word's threatening her over and over...... Tommy didn't understand what they were saying, but all in all, she didn't want to know. Suddenly, she could breath, as if heaven had opened it's gates.....But then her air was stolen from her again...... The voices grew louder and louder..... So many people were holding her....... Pulling at her..... Holding her down........ They were so loud in her head........ "Tommy? Tommy, wake up!" Micky soothed, shaking her lightly. Tommy jerked awake suddenly, her eye's wide with fear, her face streaked with sweat. She emmediately clutched to Micky with what little strength she felt she had, panting heavily. "It's ok, it was only a dream. You're safe now." Micky said, softly stroking her short hair. Tommy began to sob. She was so petrified of the people, all the faces........So many surrounding her. In Micky's arm's was the only place she felt safe. Micky rocked her back and fourth, singing softly to her and trying to push all the question's out of his mind for now. "Pillow Time" was the first slow song that came to his mind, so that's what he sang. His mind was wandering absently for any answer he could come up with. It could have been only a dream, but something was eating him inside that wouldn't go away. They sat for a ling while like this, Micky rocking her back and fourth even after she stopped crying. "You want me to lay by you?" Micky whispered. She nodded slowly and he lay down on the bed. She lay with her back to him, allowing him to hug her tightly as he sang. It was a while before she fell asleep again, but Micky didn't move. For one, he didn't want to wake her up. And for another, he was too darn tired! He couldn't even finish this thought before he too fell into another deep sleep, still lightly and absently humming the tune of "Pillow Time". Mike heard a sudden, sharp hissing noise and a gasp from in the kitchen as he sat on the couch, reading the paper. "Peter, are you watchin' that stuff in there?" He called. "Huh? Oh shute!" Came Peter's reply. Then he heard a loud bang and a low, pain-filled curse. Mike jumped from the couch and ran into the kitchen. "Oh, Peter!" A large, plastic bowl that once held pancake batter sat upside down on the floor, and a small portion of it had oosed onto the oven burner, which was crackling loudly. Peter crouched quickly to the floor with a rag, trying to wipe the batter off of the floor. Suddenly, the oven burner sparked and a small flame burst to life! Mike reached to turn the burner off and grabbed a towel. Soaking it with water, he swatted the oven burner with it. Peter opened the window and fanned the smoke out with another towel. Mike had put the fire out and tossed his half burnt, half wet towel into the sink. "Peter, what were you doin'?" Mike retorted, getting another rag to help clean up the pancake batter on the floor, which Peter had already gotten back to. "Gee, I'm sorry, Mike. I guess I just wasn't thinking." Peter sighed. "Well, try an' think next time, shotgun." Mike said, crouching down to pick up the bowl and put it in the sink. "Tommy asked me another one of those weird question's." Peter explained. "Another one? Did you figure out the other one she asked?" Mike asked. "No. When I told her I couldn't sleep because I didn't know, she told me the answer." Peter said. There was a pause. "Well?" Mike proded. Peter looked absently at him. "What was the answer?" Mike asked. "Oh yeah. The guy was standing on a block of ice." Peter explained. "A block of ice?" Mike questioned. "Yeah! See, there was nothing he could've stoud on, and there was a puddle of water under him. So he stoud on a big ice block and jumped off of it, and left the window open to melt the ice." Peter explained again. "Oh. What was the other question?" Mike asked as Peter rinsed his rag out in the sink. Peter explained the other question to Mike, who listened closely, thinking. "Got any idea's?" He asked when he was done. "Nope". Mike said. It was quite a mind juggeler, Mike thought. Whare did she think up this stuff? Later that afternoon, Peter and Mike went over to the music store, not telling anybody why. Micky was upstair's sleeping, and Tommy had crashed on the couch, leaving Davy alone. He had gone for a swim, but it was no fun swimming alone, so he went back in the house to change into his clothes. He tucked his orange, button up shirt into his brown pant's as he came down the stair's. Mike and Peter still hadn't come back, and Micky was still talking in his sleep upstair's. Having nothing else to do, Davy decided to check on Tommy, and make sure she wasn't having any nightmeres or anything. He tiptoed softly over to the chair in the corner and lifted the blanket off that had been drapped over the back, then he unfolded it and drapped it softly over Tommy. She shifted slightly, sending whatever she had been holding to a plop on the floor, along with a small, black pen. Davy's eye caught it, and he reached down to pick it up. It was a pad of paper. The first page read: "Often talked of, never seen. Ever coming, never been. Daily looked for, never here. Still aproaching, coming near. Thousand's for it's visit wait, but alas for their fate. Tho' they expect me to appear, they will never find me here." And that was it. "Wot in the world...." Davy murmered to himself. What did it mean? Davy shouk his head in bewilderment, looking down at the sleeping figure on the couch. This was one...special....person. PART NINE: TOMMY'S TUNDRA It was dark and quiet that night at the Pad. Everyone was sound asleep upstair's. All except one. The door to the bedroom opened slowly as someone slipped in, un-heard. The figure touk in the scene lay out before him. A tall, lanky figure lay on his back, sleeping peacefully. The same could be said for the slightly shorter figure in the bed at the far end of the room, who clutched a teddy bear as he slept, a slight smile on his face. In the bed closest to the door lay a short looking man, curled up and cutting log's with a chansaw! The figure wondered how everyone slept through that loud noise. Another man lay sprawled out on the floor in a deep sleep. Then the figure saw a young girl, about as short as the shortest man in the room, and smiled slightly. That was the one it was looking for. After a moment, the figure emerged from the room and crept down the stair's and out of the house. All was quiet again. The morning dawned bright and early when Micky came downstair's to a surprise. Mike stoud by the stove, grumbling to himself. Micky could tell by the item's on the counter that Mike was trying to cook again. "Hiya, Mike. Watcha makin'?" He asked, looking over his shoulder to see. A pot of watery looking mush sat in the left burner of the stove. "Oh, hi Micky. I thought I'd give Peter a brake today. But it doesn't seem to be turnin' out real well". Mike said, stirring the content's with a wooden spoon. "Didja follow the direction's right?" Micky asked, picking up the box of outmeal flakes. "Of course I did!" Mike scowled. Micky ignored his bad mood, it was the only thing he could do when Mike got like this. "You put in four cup's of water?" Micky asked. Mike paused, and thought for a moment. "Yup." He said. "And six cup's of outmeal?" Micky asked. Mike paused again. Then he cursed lowly under his breath. Micky grinned in slight satisfaction for accomplishing his goal. "You want me to finish up?" He asked. "No. I can do it." Mike said, dumping the soupy content's in the trash. Micky shrugged and sat down at the table, picking up the paper to read it. Davy came down the stair's then, placing his love bead's around his neck as he sat down at the table across from Micky. "Eye, fella's!" He greated cheerily. He had decided the day before not to tell anyone about the paper Tommy had written. "Hi." Mike and Micky both chimed at once. "Why a'ah you making breakfast, Mike?" Davy asked, only just then noticing. "He's givin' Peter a brake." Micky explained. "Hm." Davy ended the conversation there as he squinted to read the other side of the paper that Micky wasn't reading. Peter stoud in front of the mirror in the bathroom upstair's, combing out his hair that had become greatly out of place through the night. He glanced at Tommy briefly before turning back to the mirror. She was still sleeping soundly. Peter didn't pay that fact much notice until the thought accured to him that Tommy was ussually the first one up aside from himself. Of course, Mike, Micky, and Davy were all up and downstair's already, and that was pretty new, especially for Davy. He was ussually the last one up. Peter placed the comb back in it's place on the edge of the sink and walked back into the room. He sat down on the edge of Tommy's bed and nudged her slightly. "Tommy? Tom, wake up." He said. She didn't move, and Peter found this slightly odd. She was alway's so jumpy, he figured he'd scare her half to death by trying to wake her up. "Tommy?" He said again, a little louder. Nothing. Now Peter was worried. Carefully, he pulled the coveres back a little in order to see her face better. He brushed the hair from her face, noticing that it was very moist and wet. One look at her face sent Peter's expression to a pale stare. "MICKY!!!" The sudden scream from upstair's brought all three of them to their feet within the second, and they were all bounding up the stair's. "What's wro-" Micky came to an abrupt hault at the door. Peter sat on Micky's bed, cradling Tommy in his arm's, tear's streaking his face. "Micky," He sobbed. "I don't know what's wrong with her!" Mike and Davy ran up behind Micky and stopped at the sight in the bedroom. Micky ran to his friend, taking Tommy in his own arm's. Her entire body was damp with sweat, and her breath was harsh and raspy. "Oh God! Mike, she's burning up!" Micky said, terror etched in his face. "I'll call the hospital-" Davy began to say, but Mike cut him off. "Don't bother, we have to get her there now!" He demanded. "C'mon!" Mike rushed from the room. Micky followed close behind him, carrying Tommy. Peter stoud shakily. Davy turned to him. "You ok, mate?" He asked. "Is she gonna die, Davy?" Peter asked, the terrified child inside him showing clearly. A lump raised in Davy's throat, what could he say. There was no way he could answere that question. "Hurry up, you guy's!!" Mike bellowed from downstair's. "Come on." Davy said, taking Peter by the hand and leading him out of the room. It was like taking the hand of a small, lost child. Four men waited anxiously from within the waiting room of Mercy Hospital for any word from the doctor's on Tommy. Peter sat in a chair, his hand's on either side of his head, leaning foreward with his elbow's on his knees. Davy stoud by the door, facing the window and staring off into space. Mike sat in a chair across from Peter, fidgeting restlessly. He quickly whipped away a drop of sweat that had appeared at the side of his face. Micky paced back and fourth in the hallway just outside the waiting room. The other's had asked him to sit, but he refused. He just couldn't stay still for more than ten second's. "How is she?!" Mike, Peter, and Davy all looked up when Micky asked this question. A doctor walked over, and they all rushed over to him. "She's in very critical condition right now." The Doctor, Dr. Parson, said. "What's wrong with her?" Peter asked. "Well, it's hard to tell at this point-" "You mean you don't know!" Micky nearly shouted. "Please, try to calm down. Now, at first we thought it was a fever. But through more close research, we found that she'd been diagnosed." Dr. Parson explained. Eight eye's went wide at that. "You mean......She was drugged?" Mike asked, stunned. Dr. Parson nodded grimly. "But how could she've been drugged! She was fine yesterday!" Micky said. "What all did she eat yesterday?" Dr. Parson asked. "Uh....Well, we had pancakes for breakfast." Peter said. "Yeah, and Petah made those 'imself." Davy said. "And for lunch we had.....um...shute, I can't remember." Mike said. "Hot dog's!" Micky said suddenly. "Yeah, hot dog's, then we had macaroni and cheeze for dinner." Mike said. The doctor seemed to be thinking. "You don't have any type of drug's in your house, do you." They looked at each other. "No, nothing except maybe some asperin." Mike said. "What are you getting at exactly?" Micky asked suspiciously, then he realized something. "You don't think WE did it!?" He shouted. The other's suddenly looked shocked. "No, personally I don't. But if this get's to the police, then they probably will." Dr. Parson explained. "That's rediculas!" Mike protested. "Even if we had, do you think we'd bring'er here!" "That's why I said I didn't think so!" Tha doctor protested, and Mike fell silent. "I have to get back to work, I'll letcha know if I here anything else." Dr. Parson said, then he left them. They were all silent for a while after they resumed their original position's. "I can't believe this." Mike muttered to himself. "Who would 'ave done this to'eh?" Davy asked no one in perticular. There was a long moment of agonizing silence. Then a nurse walked into the room. "Um...I'm looking for the parent's of someone named Tommy....no last name?" She said. "Me!" Mike and Micky both said at once, then looked at each other. "Oh, sorry. Wrong person." Micky quickly lied. The nurse regarded Mike. "Are you the parent of this child?" "Yes. I'm her father, Mike Nesmith." Mike lied. He's a good acter, Davy thought. "Ok....Tommy Nesmith...." The nurse murmured to herself while writing something down. "I need you to sign this." She said, handing Mike a clipboard with a chart on it and a pen. "What's it for?" Mike asked. "We need your permission before we can do an X-Ray and find out more about her condition." The nurse said. Mike signed his name and gave the chart to her. "Thank you." She said as she turned and started back down the hall. Mike sighed heavily and sat back down. This was such a nightmere. It was litterally hour's before the doctor came back to whare the Monkees were still waiting in the waiting room. "Can we see'er now?" Micky asked anxiously. "Yes, but only one at a time. We can't rush her. She woke up just minutes ago, and won't talk to anybody. Remember to be careful, too. She's very jumpy, and whenever one of the nurses got near her, she freaked." The doctor explained as he led them down the hall. "Oh, don't worry. She's alway's like that." Micky said reasuringly. Dr. Parson looked strangely at him for a moment before coming to a stop in front of an elevator, which they touk to the fourth floor. "This is it." Dr. Parson said. "Would you like to go in first, she's your daughter, after all." He said, motioning for Mike to go in. Mike looked at Micky. "Um, actually, I think Micky should go in first." Mike said. Micky looked a little surprised. "Very well." The doctor opened the door and Micky entered, casting Mike a 'thank you' look before the doctor closed the door. Micky looked across the room to whare Tommy lay on the hospital bed, with an IV running into her arm. He drew in a sharp breath. She was so pale, her hair was wet and stringy, some of it sticking to the side's of her face. Micky walked over to the bed and sat down on the chair that sat next to it. "Tommy?" He said in a low tone. Tommy's eye's fluttered opened slowly, and she looked around, as if looking for the voice. "Tommy, it's me, Micky." Micky said, leaning closer to her. She looked up at him. "M-Micky?" She whispered, her voice very raspy. "Yeah. Hey, you're gonna come home soon, ya know that?" Micky said, a small tear dripping down his cheak. "Micky, we-whare am I?" She asked. "You're in the hospital, hun. You got real sick, but you're gonna get better." Micky said reasuringly. Tommy smiled faintly, and it made Micky's heart ache. He felt as if this whole mess were his fault. Maybe if he'd slept beside her again, he'd have noticed anything that happened. "I...I'm scared." Tommy said then. "It's ok to be scared, Tom. I would be, too. And so would the other's. But don't worry, I'm not goin' anywhare. If you want to see me, just ask the nurse." Micky said. But he wasn't leaving yet, not by a long shot. "Ok." She said. "Um, Tommy," Micky started. He decided to ask her if she remembered anything that happened last night, just in case she did. "Did you do anything last night? I mean like, get up and eat something or anything like that?" Micky asked hesitantly. Tommy thought for a moment, then slowly shook her head once. Micky sighed. "Micky, what's wrong with me?" She asked. "Um...Well...The doctor say's that you....well, you were drugged." Micky said in a low voice. Tommy's eye's went a little wide. "D-drugged?" She stuttered, and Micky nodded grimly. "I...I'm gonna die, aren't I?" This statement sent Micky bolt upright. "No! No, never! You won't die, you're getting better right now! You'll be able to come home soon!" He said. Tommy looked deep into his eye's. She trusted him so much. "Ok." She siad with a slight smile, and Micky smiled back at her. "Micky, I love you." She said. "Me too, Tommy." Micky said, brushing away her stray hair's. "Me too." Mike got to go in next. After hearing about her condition from Micky, he decided exactly how he would greet her. "Hey there, shotgun!" He greeted cheerily as he sat down in the chair next to the bed. He tried not to show his slight surprise as to how pale she was. Tommy smiled slightly. "Hi." She said, her voice still not much more than a whisper. "How ya doin'?" He asked, crossing his arm's and setting them on the edge of the bed as he spoke. "Not t-to good." She replied. Mike scoffed. "Aw, c'mon. Yer fine as peaches. You'll be outta here and back at the Pad whare ya b'long in no time." Mike said, still smiling. He was trying his best to feel the same way he was acting, and it was starting to work, but it felt strange to smile so much. Mike consentrated on how Peter smiled all the time, and that made it easier. "I belong there?" Tommy asked. Mike was surprised a little by this question. "Of course ya do, shotgun!" He said. "No, not for real. It's not my real home, and Tommy isn't even my real name. Micky picked it out for me." Tommy said. Mike wasn't quite smiling anymore. "Listen," Mike said softly. "I know you're really confused right now, but there's something you should know." Tommy looked at him. "We all love you, Tom. I don't know about the other's, but I know that there's nothin' I wouldn't do for you. It's almost as if ya really are my daughter. Don't worry about whare ya really came from or who ya really are, we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. Try to look on the bright side. Ya got four, handsome, intelegent guy's who love ya, and want to be with ya." Mike finished. Tommy smiled. "I love you too, Mike." She said. Mike smiled. Next it was Peter's turn. "I'm olway's last." Davy grumbled as Peter shut the door behind him. "Peter!" Tommy's greeting was low and raspy, but her smile displayed how glad she was to see him. She had a little more strength now that she had been awake for a while, but she was still very weak. "Hi, Tommy!" Peter said, his dimples cutting deep grooves in his face when he smiled at her. He sat down not in the chair, but on the edge of the bed as he did all the time at home. "I figured out the answer to your last question!" Peter chimed happilly. "You did?" She asked. "Yep, the six men were carrying the seventh guy in a coffin." Tommy smiled and nodded in aproval. Peter smiled again, he had got it right. "How did you know?" She asked. "Well, it kept coming to mind while I was in the waiting room with the other's, and I thought about it for a long time. And suddenly it just clicked, and I knew what the answer was." Peter explained. "That's pretty good." Tommy said. "Um...Peter, do you know when I can come home?" She asked. "Hm, I'm not sure. But I bet it'll be real soon." Peter said, giving her hand a little squeeze. There was a pause. "I love you, Peter." Tommy said suddenly. Peter looked at her for a moment, surprised. Then he smiled a little. "Really?" He asked with a slightly childish tone. Tommy nodded. "Aside from Micky, I trust you more than anyone." She said. "You mean you're not afraid of me anymore?" Peter asked. "No, I'm not." She said, smiling slightly. Peter's face lit up. "Gosh, thank's!" He said, and gave her a big bear hug. Davy was the last one to go in, much to his displeasure. "Eye, luv!" He greeted as he sat down in the chair next to the bed. "How ya doin'?" He asked. "Ok, thank's." Tommy replied. She had tensed only slightly when Mike came in, but now she had tensed up greatly, and Davy could tell. He payed no notice, though. She did it alot when she was alone with him, so he was used to it. "I hea'eh ya comin'ome soon!" He continued. "Yeah, 'soon as I'm better." She said. Davy touk to full notice that she wasn't getting into any deep conversation with him on purpose, so he decided to take action. "Tommy, wot would you say if I bought you something?" Davy asked. Tommy looked at him, a question written on her face. "What do you mean?" She asked. "Oh, ya know. Just in case I wanted t'get you something nice." He said. "Well, it's not really normal to get someone something for no special reason." Tommy said. "You alone is special reason enough f'me!" Davy smiled. Tommy smiled shyly. "Oh, I don't know what I'd say.........Probably thank you would be my best bet." She said, then she looked at him strangely. "Is there a point to this?" She asked. Davy thought for a moment. He hadn't really thought about what he was going to say when he started this conversation. He just sort of planned on thinking of thing's as he went along. "No." He said finally. "You'eh just a very special peh'son, and I ca'ah about you alot. I just wish you weh'n't so afraid of me, that's oll." Davy said. There, he thought, it was out. Now I'v probably made her feel bad again. Tommy's facial expression displayed nothing as she sat in thought of Davy's comment. Oh, if only he understoud, she thought. She already explained that she didn't know. It wasn't her fault he scared her. Maybe it was because of the impression he made when she had first met him. Or, more apropriately, when she first SAW him. She hadn't met him then, she was so petrified of this guy that all she could do was scream. After the accident, people in general scared her. She didn't know why, they just did. "Davy....I just can't tell you." Tommy said finally. "Why not?" He asked, confused. "No. I mean, I really CAN'T tell you, I don't know." Tommy explained. Davy thought about this. You dummy, he thought, she already explained this to you! "Tommy, look at me." Tommy did, and Davy looked straight into her eye's, un-moving. "Wot do you see?" He asked. "I see Davy." Tommy answered. "No no, look closah. Try and look inside me, and tell me wot you see." Davy instructed. Tommy looked deep into his eye's, as if searching for a lost treasure inside them. She didn't understand his motives, but she was willing to try. They sat like this for a minute or two, until Tommy spoke. "I see...a nice guy who made a weird first impression on me....who...likes girl's...(Davy blushed slightly at this)...who is very kind and thoughtful....who was alway's nice to me and.....never..." Tommy trailed off as the realization of her own word's hit her. She had no reason to be afraid of him, but for some reason, she was. Tear's filled Tommy's eye's, and she realized that she was treating Davy in a way he didn't deserve, and she didn't even know why! "I'm so sorry, Davy." Tommy sobbed and closed her eye's. Now you've done it, Davy kicked himself mentally. "Tommy, Don't be sorry." Davy said, putting his hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort her. She reached up and touched his hand lightly, looking up at him with tear stained eye's. "I just don't know what's wrong with me." She said. "The'eh's nothing wrong with you, luv. You'eh peh'fect just the way you a'ah." Davy assured her. "Everything is so confusing. It's like I don't have a past." She explained. Davy tried to put himself in her shoe's, but couldn't. He couldn't emagine not remembering any of his past. "You'll be ok, Tom. You'll be ok." Davy smoothed the back of his hand along her cheek, brushing away the tear's. Tommy smiled up at him, and for the first time, she seemed to trust him. PART TEN: TOMMY AND PETER'S PAINTING After a week of serious medical treatment, Tommy was released from the hospital, and taken home. Thing's went smoothly over the next two week's. Tommy was slowly growing more used to not being around Micky, but she still looked to him as her most trusted. A couple day's after Tommy had been brought home from the hospital, Peter sugested the idea of giving her a small welcome home party. Tommy loved it. Not remembering ever having a party before, it was a wonderful experience for her, and all four Monkees got her a gift. Micky's was a stuffed animal penguin to sleep with at night. Mike's was a small, white sailor hat. "It'll match with anything you wear." He had said. Peter's was a big paint set and four large peices of canvas paper. He just thought it would be something fun and interresting to do. And Davy's was a bag of tan molding clay. "You can make stuff with it, like models or something." He had said. Tommy loved the gift's very much. She didn't have anything of her own at the Pad. One day, Tommy sat on the floor of the living room with her painting thing's. Peices of newspaper had been layed out on the floor, and a large peice of paper sat on top of them. The new's paper was there so no paint would get on the floor, and this was the only way it worked when you didn't have a canvas. Also sitting on the newspaper were five small bowl's filled with paint. One black, one blue, one red, one green, and one white. There were also five half empty paint container's, and two clean brushes laying next to a jar of water. Tommy picked up the brush and dipped it into the red paint, then she brushed it once on the paper. She paused to look at it, then did it again. She repeated this with the blue. She didn't know exactly what she was going to paint, so she decided to fool around until she thought of something good. After a little while, Tommy discovered that using the brush wasn't getting her anywhare. It was too small, for one thing, and she had to rinse it out every time she wanted to change color's, so she got a better idea. First, she poured a little bit of paint from each bowl back into it's rightful container, making sure that her idea did not waste very much paint. Then, very carefully, Tommy dipped her finger's into the green paint, then she smoothed them across the paper. She paused to look at it, and smiled slightly. This look's neat, she thought. She painted like this for quite some time, not knowing exactly what she was doing. She was completely oblivious to the fact that Peter was watching her from the balcony, smiling. She likes the paint's, he thought. He was also aware of the fact that she was using her finger's instead of the brush, and he found that slightly interresting. Quietly, he tiptoed down the stares and over to whare she was. Off in her own little dreamworld, Tommy didn't even know he was in the house, let alone anybody else. "Hi!" Tommy jumped and screamed at the sudden sound, shocked half to death. Peter jumped back. Ok, that wasn't exactly the right way to start the conversation, he thought. Seeing Peter, Tommy calmed a bit. "I'm sorry." Peter apolegized. "It's alright......How long were you standing there?" She asked. Peter blushed. "Oh, only a few minutes." He grinned at her, and she smiled. "Watcha painting?" He asked, regarding the paper on the floor, which was now quite a mess. "I'm not sure yet." Tommy said, turning back to her painting. Peter sat down next to her. "Look's like a hurricane t'me." Peter said, lauphing slightly. Tommy blushed a little. "I was experimenting. Here-" Tommy touk Peter's right hand with her left and put it in the blue paint bowl. "Eeeww, Tommy." Peter protested. But he was still smiling. Tommy covered her other hand in blue paint and rubbed Peter's hand with it. "What are you doing?" He asked. "Just watch." She said, smiling. Peter grew slightly exited. This was fun, he thought. Even as a kid, Peter had never played with paint's like this before. Now that Peter's right hand was covered in blue paint, Tommy let go and reached for a paint-covered rag that was sitting next to her. "Don't move." She said, whipping off her right hand with the rag. "Ok." Peter said. Tommy picked up the bowl of red paint and put her right hand in it, covering it with the paint. Peter watching in question. What was she going to do? Tommy set the bowl back down on the newspaper and put her left hand on Peter's right wrist, bringing his hand out in front of him. Then she brought her right hand up to meet Peter's. Their paint covered hand's touched, and Tommy smiled. "Now rub them together." Tommy instructed, and they rubbed their hand's around for a minute. Peter's smile began to grow. He liked this. None of the guy's would have ever done this with him. He didn't even know why he liked it. He just....did! "Ok, now watch." Tommy said, placing her left hand on his wrist again. First, she placed her own right hand down on the paper, near the middle. Then she placed his right hand down on the paper next to her's, then she let go. They kept their hand's there for a moment, then lifted them up. There, in the midst of all the mess on the paper, sat two purple hand print's, one smaller then the other. Peter smiled. "Groovy! I'v never done this before." He exclaimed, looking up at Tommy. "Neither have I, as far as I know." Tommy said, half joking. Peter laughed a little at that, then he thought of something. "Here, watch." He said, his sudden idea showing brightly in his dimpled smile. He touk her red paint covered hand in his blue one, and Tommy watched as he gently innertwained their finger's. Tommy laughed a little. Their finger's were slippery with paint, and it tickled Tommy's nerves. Peter smiled and kept with it. The paint on their hand's swirled together to form different shades of blue, red, and purple. It was an amazing feeling to watch the paint swirl like that, Peter thought. He stopped only for a moment to put some white on his hand, and to dip her hand in the green, then they started again. This time there were new color's to watch, and it was beautiful. "Let's make another print!" Tommy suggested, and Peter nodded. They placed their hand's, side by side, above the first set of print's. Now there were four handprint's. Tow purple and two swirled. They then started innertwaining their finger's again, watching the color's swirl until they began fading together. Pretty soon, both their hand's were covered in an ugly grey paint. They decided to make one more handprint under the first one, even though the color of paint was ugly. They sat and looked at their work of art, smiling. "It doesn't look like a hurricane anymore." Tommy said. "Nope, sure doesn't." Peter added. There was a slight pause, then Peter got a wacky idea. Ever so quickly, so she wouldn't be able to dodge, Peter lifted his hand and whipped it across Tommy cheek, leaving a streak of ugly grey paint! Tommy gasped, and Peter tried desperately to hold in the laughter. He made a sound that was almost like that of a snort as he sat there, staring at Tommy, struggeling not to laugh at her shell-shoked expression. Suddenly, he closed his eye's and Tommy brought her hand right down the middle of his face! This time, it was Tommy who couldn't hold the laughter, and she burst into a fit of histarics! "Come'ere you!" Peter shouted, dipping his hand in the green paint before lunging at her. "No!" She screamed, still laughing as she tried to get to her feet. Peter grabbed her and wrestled her to the ground, rubbing his paint covered hand's anywhare he could reach. Tommy reached out for the bowl of red paint and covered both hand's with it, then she reached over and rubbed them all over Peter's hair! Then she tried to do it again with the white, but Peter grabbed her wrist's and forced her hand's onto her own hair and face! This game continued for a while as their laughter filled the house. Moment's later, Tommy threw opened the back door and rushed out onto the verendah and down the step's tword the beach, covered in paint. Peter followed close behind her, also covered in paint. They both ran straight into the water and didn't stop until it was up to their chest's. They both panted heavily, the last of their laughter running them dry. "Oh boy, I didn't think painting could be that much fun!" Peter exclaimed, rubbing the paint from his shirt. "Me neither!" Tommy said, rubbung her arm's up and down. The paint filtered slowly into the water and drifted into nothingness. "Man, look at my hair!" Peter said. Both of them had hair of many color's! Peter slipped under the water breifly and came back up with only partial the paint that had been there. Tommy leaned back and rubbed her hair out in the water. "Gosh, when I bought you those paint's, I sure didn't plan of anything like this!" Peter continued. "It was fun though." Tommy said, raising back to an upright position. "Yeah, it was fun." Peter said. There was a long pause as the two looked at each other. "Do you remember the way we did our hand's like that?" Peter asked. "Yeah." Tommy replied. Then, Peter lifted his hand out of the water, and he was holding hers. Tommy gazed from Peter to their hand's, and then back at Peter again. He innertwained their finger's again slowly, and Tommy could only watch. This time their were no swirling color's, but the feeling sent a funny tingle up Tommy's spine. After a moment, Peter brought his other hand up to brush the hair from Tommy's eye's as he stared deep into them. "I.....I'm sorry if I scared you before." He said, his voice hushed. "You didn't scare me, Peter." Tommy replied, her voice also hushed. Peter carressed her face with the back of his hand, then ever so lightly, he kissed her forehead. Through all this, their hand's had stopped moving and were now simply holding in place. Tommy looked up at Peter, pure trust in her eye's. Peter smiled. "PETER!!" Peter and Tommy jumped at Mike's bellow from within the house, and they remembered the paint! They looked at each other with "Uh oh" look's on their faces, then they burst out laughing again. Later that night, after everyone else had gone to sleep, a small light went on in the kitchen. Davy stoud at the counter reading the derection's off of a small box of chocolate pudding. This doesn't sound too complicated, he thought as he put the box down and set to work quietly getting out a bowl and measuring cup...ect. He knew he wasn't the best cook, in fact, he was pretty bad at it. But for some reason, he had this aweful craving for chocolate pudding, so he decided to try and make some, ignoring the fact that it was indeed three in the morning. He measured out two cup's of milk and dumped it into the bowl, then he dumped the content's of the box into the bowl as well, then he put the milk away. He stoud stirring for a good five minute's before he placed the bowl into the refridgerator to cool for about an hour. Davy sighed, knowing he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. He walked into the living room and looked at the strange painting that had been taped to the wall. The six hand print's, three slightly big, the other three smaller, all going the same way. He sighed and shook his head, whare did they think up this stuff? He moved over to the bandstand and picked up Mike's 12-string and smoothed his hand along the string's, making only a soft hum as he went from top to bottom. A small part of him wished he could play it, but the rest of him was saying "Forget it, bud". Davy sighed again as he set it down and walked over to the verendah door, peering out into the darkness. His thought's turned to Tommy as he stoud motionless, thinking of all the different places she could have come from. She could even be from another country, but he highly doubted that. She'd most likely talk different if she had. That's how he was, no one he knew talked the way he did. Then Davy's thought's turned to the paper he had found. "Often talked of, nevah seen. Evah coming, nevah been...." Davy recited silently to himself. After reading it over and over from time to time, he had memorized it without even trying. He even blamed some of his sleepless night's on it. It was so mind-trapping that if he started thinking about it, he couldn't get if off of his mind! Confusing was the word. Davy couldn't decide wether it was a poem that hadn't been finished or a riddle that had an answer he didn't know of. "Daily looked fo'eh, nevah he'ah. Still aproaching, coming ne'ah...." It was almost as if Davy were in a trance as he stoud motionless, reciting the word's to himself. He just couldn't get them out of his head! What was the answer!?! After a while, Davy opened the refridgerator door and pulled out his bowl of chocolate pudding. Dipping his index finger into the bowl and sticking it into his mouth, he smiled with satisfaction at the taste. He touk a metel spoon out of the silverware drawer and sat down on the living room couch. But just before he stuck a spoonful into his mouth, he heard a creek on the stair's and whirled around to see what it was. Mike stoud at the top of the stair's, staring at Davy in complete question. "What are you doin'?" He asked, raising his arm to look at his watch. "It's four-thirtee in the mornin'." "I know, I couldn't sleep." Davy excused, shifting the bowl in his hand's, hoping Mike wouldn't see it. He did. "What's that?" He asked curiously, walking softly down the stair's and tword the couch. Davy couldn't hide it now, so he held the bowl out to Mike for him to inspect. "Chocolate pudding." He said as Mike touk the bowl and looked down at it. "Whare'd ya get it?" Mike asked. Davy's expression faltered a little as he stoud up. "I made it." Mike looked up (or more like down) at Davy with a baffled expression on his face. Davy MADE this pudding, Mike thought, almost unbelieving. "You MADE this?" Mike asked, looking at Davy as if he were lying. Davy frowned. "Of couh'se I made it. Wha'ed you think I got it?" Davy accused, almost snatching as he touk the bowl from Mike and sat back down on the couch. He stuck a rather large spoonful of the pudding into his mouth as Mike sat down next to him, not saying anything. After a moment, Davy was getting a little erritated by the silence. "He'ah," He said through a mouthful of pudding, handing the bowl to Mike. "Want some?" Mike hesitated, then touk the bowl from Davy. "Yeah, I guess so." He said before taking the spoon in his hand and sticking it into his mouth. Davy smiled a little. He knew that Mike had wanted some in the first place, but he wanted to wait and see if his polite, Texan manner's would falter, and if he'd just ask for some. But they didn't, so Davy gave up waiting. "So, how do ya figuah he'h?" Davy asked. Mike looked at Davy with a slightly baffled expression. "Who?" He asked. "Who!? Tommy, what other "he'h" is the'h?" Davy asked, almost as an accuzation. "Well, I don't know, Davy. You'd be the best person the answer that question." Mike said, grinning slightly and trying to hide it. Davy rolled his eye's, and by his expression, Mike realized that Davy wasn't in the mood at the moment. "I don't know, Davy. To be honest, I really don't figure'er at all. I guess I don't really know what you mean." Mike said before sticking another spoonful into his mouth. Davy seemed so troubled, Mike thought. "What's e'matter, Davy?" He asked. Davy looked at him and sighed. "I just don't get it, man. Who would 'ave drugged'eh like that?" Davy said. It was a question he knew Mike couldn't answer, and he didn't expect him to either. "I mean, it's not just something we can fo'get." He continued. "Tell be about it." Mike mumbled. "Huh? Why d'ya say that?" Davy asked curiously. "Did you know that Peter's awake upstair's?" Davy's eye's went slightly wide at this comment. "E'is?" "Yep. He's layin' up there, wide awake. He doesn't know I know, but he stay's up almost every night, keepin' watch." Mike explained. "F'what?" Davy asked. "For Tommy. He's worried silly that somebody might try and drug'er again. He's been keepin' watch since the night she came home." "How'd'ya know?" Davy asked. "Well, I don't know that he keep's watch every night, but if I ever wake up in the middle of the night, I can see him wide awake, watching Tommy." Mike said. "Oh." Was all Davy said now. He would have figured Micky to do that, not Peter. There was a moment of silence as Mike passed the bowl back to Davy, who stuck in another spoonful. "Mike, what a'ah we gonna do? She can't live with us fo'ev'ah, ya know. We've got to figuah out wha'eh she came from soon'eh o'lad'eh." Davy said, his worry causing his accent to increase. "I know, man, I know. But what can we do? As long as she doesn't know, neither do we." Mike said. And that's whare the conversation ended. PART ELEVEN: DAVY'S RECORD PLAYER "Micky?" Tommy's call caried all across the pad as Micky leapt down the stair's. The call hadn't sounded like a cry for help, only a call that meant she wanted him. "Whare are ya?" He called out. "In here." Came Tommy's voice from inside an old storage closet near the downstair's bathroom. Micky opened the door and peered inside the dark room. "Tommy? You in here?" He asked. "Yeah, come'ere, I need your help." She said. Micky entered the room and manuvered through the boxes and bag's of useless junk until he came around a pile whare he saw Tommy. She stoud near a small closet, wearing her grey and blue skirt, one of Micky's shirt's, and her white sailor hat. "What is it, Tom?" Micky asked, walking over to her. "Can you help me get that down?" Tommy asked, pointing to an old, suit case type box. Micky reached up into the closet and pulled the box off of the shelf and brought it down carefully. "Here ya go. What's it for?" He asked, handing her the box. "I don't know. I just wanted to see what it was." She said, lifting the latches and opening the lid. Inside the box sat an old record player! "I wonder whare that come from." Micky said, looking it over with Tommy. "Think it still work's?" Tommy asked, and Micky grinned broadly. "Let's find out!" He said, almost with a childish exitement. "Yeah!" Tommy cried as Micky grabbed the box, shut the lid, and they rushed out of the room together. A horrible, screeching noise was heard from the living room moment's later. Mike jumped from the kitchen table at the sudden, horrid sound. "What the heck is that!" He yelled. Sudden, uncontrollable giggles were heard from the living room as the screeching came to an abrupt stop. Mike got up from his chair and walked into the living room whare Micky and Tommy sat on the floor with the old record player, which was plugged into an outlet in the wall. "What are you two doin'?" Mike demanded, folding his arm's across his chest. Micky and Tommy side glanced at each other, each trying desperately to hold in laughter, but to no avail. They both burst into fit's of histaric's, and Mike rolled his eye's heavenward. "Eye, what's with oll th'noise-" Davy started, coming out onto the balcony. His eye's fell onto the record player, then on Micky and Tommy, then on Mike, and he smiled. "Whah'd you get that thing?" He asked, sliding down the rail, and walking over to them. "We found it in the storage closet". Micky explained. "And you we'eh tryin' t'get it t'work, huh?" Davy asked, and they both nodded. "Does this piece'a'junk belong t'you?" Mike asked, his irritation simmering only slightly. "Actually, yes. But it's broken. It couldn't play a single tune. I tried to get it fixed a couple yea'eh's back, but I guess it played it's last a long time ago." Davy explained. Tommy brightened curiously at this. "Can I have it?" She asked. All three men turned to her with questioned expression's. "I guess so, if you want it. It's not good fo' anything, though." Davy said. "Thank you, Davy!" She said, jumping to her feet and giving Davy a hug. This surprised him! "Wow, you sure know what you're doing!" Peter commented as he watched Tommy's hand's move carefully up and down the spinning, orange/brown shape that sat atop the old record player. "Actually, I don't. I'm just experimenting." Tommy said with a grin. Peter grinned also, still watching her cerefully. The mushy clay Davy had givin Tommy was only a lump, but as Tommy worked with it, it became more beautiful within every minute. Peter was completely transfixed. Davy stoud on the balcony in pure amusement. So this was what she had been planning, he thought. He knew that clay would come in handy for her. Why hadn't he thought of that? It was also amusing to see the way Peter watched her. Like a little boy watching someone open up his very first candy bar for him. Davy sighed and quietly walked back into the bedroom so as not to disturb them. Thing's went on for a while like this, Tommy working and Peter watching. Davy had left on a date a little while after he went back into the bedroom, and Micky and Mike were out surfing. Peter hadn't said a word the entire time, and actually, neither had Tommy. The lump had by now turned into the form of what looked like a weird shaped pot, and Tommy had one hand bent down, trying to smooth out the inside. Then suddenly, her fingers pushed a little to hard and popped right through, causing a large scrape to appear along the side. Tommy gasped and yanked her hand out of the pot, and they watched as it slumped over. "Oh no!" Tommy cried. Peter was already on his knees and in action, trying to re-shape it himself. He brought the clay mass back up and tried to smooth it back into one piece. "Forget it, Peter. I can just try again." Tommy sighed. "No, I think I got it-" Peter's word's were cut off when the clay smudged into two pieces, one still spinning, the other resting in his hand's. Tommy put a hand to her mouth, trying to smuther the giggles. Peter looked up at her, his face displaying nothing. "Are you laughing?" He asked. Tommy made a sound somewhare in between a snort and a laugh on accident, and Peter frowned. "Well, I don't think it's very funny" He said, plopping his handfull of clay back onto the spinning record player and sitting crosslegged on the floor, folding his arm's across his chest in a pouting manner, not realizing that he was getting clay on the sides of his blue t-shirt. Tommy realized that she had accidently hurt Peter's feeling's, and now wanted to shoot herself. "Oh, Peter, I'm sorry!" She said, moving to sit next to him and putting her hand on his shoulder. "I didn't mean to laugh. After all, I wasn't laughing at you," Peter looked at her in question. "You weren't?" "No! I was just laughing at the what happened to the clay." Tommy said, but Peter looked doubtful. "Really?" He asked, looking curious eye's at her. "Really." She smiled reasuringly, and Peter's frown softened into a small grin. Tommy removed her hand from his shoulder, pulling his shirt up a little in the proccess, and she realized that she still had clay on her hand's, which was now on Peter's shirt sleeve. Peter noticed too. "Very artistic!" He joked, and Tommy laughed a little. "Well, what do we do with it now?" He asked, regarding the quite ugly mess on the record player. "I suppose I could start again." Tommy suggested. "Only this time, I'll make something not so tall, like a bowl." Tommy said. Peter brightened suddenly with an idea. "Say, I got it! My mom used to have this bowl she would make cookies in, we could try and make that!" He mused. "What did it look like?" She asked. "Well, it was kind of wide....and about this big..." Peter discribed the bowl, gesturing with his hand's at the same time. Tommy listened and watched with a confused look. "....Ok, I guess I could try. You tell me if I get close." She said, placing her hand's once more onto the clay and starting to mold it again. Peter watched closely for a while, giving her little hint's. "Go out with it a little more.....No no, not like that....W'll...Here, lemme show you." Peter said, giving up at talking her through it and moving to sit behind her. He reached his arm's around her and clasped her hand's, guiding them with his own. "Like this." He said as he moved her hand's across the inner part of what started to look like a bowl. He scooted closer, to make it easier on his outstretched arm's. "Is it getting close?" Tommy asked. "Yeah, I think so." Peter said. With Tommy sitting crosslegged on the floor, Peter sat on his knees so that he was almost over her, and so that he could see better. It was actually starting to look a little like his mother's bowl! "It look's pretty good so far." Tommy commented as Peter guided her hand's along the surface. "Yeah, it does, doesn't it." Peter smiled. Mike and Micky walked in then, and stopped dead in their track's at the sight before them. Peter twisted his head up to look at them. "Oh, hi guy's!" He greeted cheerily. Tommy looked up then, obviously not hearing them come in. "Hi!" She sang out. Mike was able to pull himself together first. "Whatcha doin'?" He asked, crossing over to the kitchen. "Makin' a bowl!" Tommy replied. "Yeah, I'm helping'er get it to look like the one my mom used to have." Peter added as they both turned back to their work. Micky shook himself out of it finally and walked into the kitchen, whare Mike was standing near the open refridgerator. He stoud next to Mike and spoke low, letting the interior of the fridge muffle any sound that Peter or Tommy might hear. "Mike! What are we gonna do!?" Micky hissed. "I don't know, man. Look, I'm sure there's nothing to worry about, Peter hasn't fallen in love for more than a year now." Mike excused. "But look at them! I mean, look at how close to her he is!!" Micky hissed again, and they both glanced breifly over at Peter and Tommy, who were completely oblivious to the fact that they were talking about them. "For God's sake, Micky, Cool it! Peter's a very open person, he's been close to alot of girl's who were just friend's. He's only sitt'n behind her." Mike said. "Yeah, I guess you may be right..." Micky said, trailing off as he looked back over at them. Mike stared at his friend for a moment. "Micky? Are you jealous?" "What!?" Micky burst out in a very loud whispere. "No, man! Why would I be jealous!?" He accused. "Well then what's yer problem?" Mike asked. Micky sighed frustratingly. "I don't know. I guess I just.....well, I just know that....(Sighes again)....Look, we don't even know whare she came from. We don't know her real name, or age for that matter. I mean, c'mon! Peter's over twenty and she could be at least seventeen! If they fall in love and she suddenly, by some miracle, realizes who she is, what would they do? She wouldn't be able to stay here anymore. Plus, whoever drugged her must've had some sort of reason-" "So whatcher sayin' is that you care too much." Mike cut him off abruptly. Micky stared up at his friend, the truth showing clear as crystal through those almond shaped eye's, which suddenly shined with tear's that had begun to build, and he looked down at the floor, ashamed. He didn't say anything. Mike put a sympithetic hand on his friend's shoulder, and a tear fell from Micky's eye and landed on the floor at his feet. He whipped at his eye's frustratingly. "Micky, it's a'right, man." Mike soothed. Micky looked up at him again, and another tear streaked down his left cheek. "What if she remember's who she is, and forget's who we are in the proccess." Micky asked, knowing that Mike couldn't answer that question. And he was right, Mike didn't have the darnest idea what would happen then, if that happened at all. "I'm sure that won't happen, Mick." Mike said. "Not by a long shot." "I don't want her t'leave, Mike." Micky said then. "I know, man." Mike said. "Eye, fella's!" Davy chimed as he strode through the door, jacket in hand. He pretended not to notice the sight in the living room as he walked into the kitchen. "Hi, Davy!" Peter replied, not turning at all. "Hey, Dave." Mike greeted, turning from the refridgerator and sitting down at the table. Micky touk this oppertunity to dissapear inside the bathroom before Davy had a chance to notice his red eye's. Much to his luck, Davy didn't even notice that he had been there. "How'd the date go?" Mike continued. "Good. Jackie's a blast!" Davy said, tossing his jacket onto the table and moving to the fridge to get a drink. "That's good." Mike said. He didn't bother asking what happened to Megan. Davy could take on a new girlfriend within the week, and nobody would know what became of the last one. "Well, I'm gonna hit the hay, didn't get much sleep last night." Mike said, moving from the table and heading upstair's. "Ok. Night, Mike." Davy said as he placed the kool-aid pitcher back into the fridge and picked up his glass from the counter. He walked into the living room and sat down on the couch, watching Peter and Tommy work. The mushy lump had now taken the shape of a large bowl, and Peter was directing Tommy's hand's up and down the inside, smoothing it out. It is rather pretty, Davy thought. PART TWELVE: SHADES OF GRAY That night, Peter lay awake in bed. He glanced over at the clock on the nightstand that read 1:06 am, and sighed. He hadn't had a full night's sleep since the day before yesterday, Tuesday, and that had only been an accident. He hadn't meant to fall asleep. He tried to stay awake until at least three, and make sure nothing happened to Tommy. Tommy. So still and peaceful in her bed, clutching the fluffy stuffed peguin Micky had givin her. Why would anyone want to hurt such a nice person like Tommy, Peter thought. It just didn't make sense. In a way, Peter knew that her being drugged had to have something to do with her being found almost dead on the beach. It had to have been done by the same person, but who? Who in the world would do this to her? And why? I just didn't seem fair to Peter that she had to go through this, not knowing why. And another weird thing was, why wasn't anybody looking for her? Didn't she have parent's? Or at least somebody who would have noticed her missing for almost a month. Peter re-thought that thought. Almost a month. Tommy had been with them for almost an entire month, and no one had looked for her yet. It made Peter mad to think that nobody cared about her. But he didn't know for sure that that was true. Peter jerked slightly at a muffled crash from downstair's. He glanced up at the clock, and horror struck his features. 2:34 am! He had fallen asleep!! Peter looked over at Tommy's bed. She was gone!! Her penguin lay face down on the floor. Peter leapt out of his bed and stumbled across the room tword the door in a panic. The door was already open! He barreled down the stair's and into the living room, and paused, taking in the scene for only a second. Mike's 12-string had been knocked out of place, and the verendah door was open, swaying back and fourth in the light breeze that swept into the house from off the beach. "TOMMY!!" Peter screamed, running out the verendah door and taking the step's three at a time, landing softly in the sand below. He looked around       !"#$%&'()*+,-./0123456789:;<=>?@ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ[\]^_`abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz{|~frantically. There was no sign of life anywhare. Peter ran further out onto the beach and looked around again. Then, to the left, he could just barely make out a couple dark figures that stoud on the sand in the distance. Peter emmediately ran in that direction, hoping that they wouldn't see him, and that he could get close enough to make out their features. But it was too late for that, one of them spotted him. They all scurried off the beach with great speed. Peter tried to make out their features, but only got as far as knowing that they're were five of them, four boy's, one girl. By the time he had reached the spot whare they had been, they were long gone, and there was no sign that anyone had even been there. "Tommy!?" Peter called out, his hand's cupped around his mouth to make his voice carry across the beach. He listened, but heard nothing. "Peter-" The scream was cut off abruptly, and Peter whirled around to face the road whare the sound had come from. He bounded up the sand sloap and onto the dark, deserted street. "Tommy!" He yelled again, running off down the street. "The'eh e'goes!" Davy yelled as he touk off along the sand, just as Peter dissapeared off of the beach. Micky jumped down the verendah step's and onto the beach, and started running after Davy, who was a good length ahead of him. Mike was hot on his track's, putting his long leg's to work as he ran to catch up with Micky. They had all heard Peter scream Tommy's name, and were awake emmediately. Peter saw a clan of shadow's run around the corner of a building, and he followed them as fast as he could. But everytime he caught sight of them again, they vanished around another corner, but he was getting closer. He rounded another corner and abruptly came face to face with a pitch dark ally. "Tommy?" He called, and he could hear his voice echo along the wall's. His reply was a sudden crash from within the ally. He jumped slightly at the sudden noise. What should he do now? Should he go back for help and risk loosing them, or should he follow? Maybe I should go back, Peter thought.... "He-" Tommy's voice was cut off again, and Peter didn't hesitate a moment longer. He would NOT leave her! He walked cautiously into the ally, his eye's darting around for any sign of life. "Tommy?" He said again, praying for a reply. He got one. A sudden slam in the back sent Peter to the ground, further into the ally. It was a trap! "NO! No, Peter!!" Came Tommy's cry from deeper within the ally. Peter heard something slam and her voice was gone. He tried to get to his feet, but then there was a sudden blow to his stomach, and he rolled over into the wall, gasping for air. What would he do now!? What would happen to Tommy!!? "Petah?" Came a questioned call from quite a distance away. Davy! "DAVY!!" Peter cried out, but then there was a sharp pain in his head, and everything went black. Davy turned sharply at the sound of his friend's voice from down the road, and he ran in that direction. After coming to the intersection, he stopped and paused for a moment, listening. Nothing. "Petah?" He called again. Then he got his reply. Mike paced back and fourth in the living room of the Pad, one hand on his hip, the other over his eye's on frustration. Davy lay on the couch, holding a damp washcloth to his bleeding forehead. They had found him laying on the sidewalk unconcious, with an old rag pinned to his shirt that contained a large spot of blood! Which Micky had at the moment as he stoud alone on the verendah. He hadn't come back into the house or talked to anyone for hour's, and now it was noon. Suddenly, the phone rang. Mike made a mad dash for it, his heart pounding out of his chest. He picked it up and held it to his ear. "H'llo?......Hello?.....Is anybody there?...." Davy was sitting up, listening intently. Anger began to display itself on Mike's face. "If yer gonna say somethin', than say it! If yer not-" Mike was cut off by the sound of an eerily familiar voice at the other end of the line. "Mike?...MIKE!!" Peter's voice fell into the distance as silence came over the phone. And deadly chill ran up Mike's spine and a lump rose in his throat. "Mike?" Davy questioned as he got up and crossed over to whare Mike stood. "No police." Came another voice. "Who is this?" Mike demanded, his voice strong and etched with anger. "You shouldn't have gotten involved." The voice came again. Mike clutched the phone with both hand's. "Who is this!!?" He shouted, but his only answer was a *click* and then a dialtone. Mike's face went pale and he dropped the phone, stumbeling away from it. Now Davy was scared. He picked up the phone and listened, then placed it back on the reciever. "Who was it, Mike?" He asked. After the scene that had just been played out before him, he would have givin anything to know. Mike didn't answer as he sat down in a chair at the table, his mind completely away. "Mike?" Davy persisted. Mike looked up at the Englishmen for a moment, then he looked back at the floor. "Peter." That simple, mumbled whisper sent Davy's heart racing. "And somebody else." Mike added. "Who else?" Davy asked. "I...I don't know. He said we shouldn't've gotten involved, and no police." Mike explained, still staring at the floor. "He was callin' me, Davy. He was callin' and I couldn't come." Mike said, more as a fact than a sob. Mike was not one to cry, not in the least. "Mike...." Davy started, trying to comfort his friend. But he stepped back when Mike jumped from his chair, nocking it over in the proccess. "Don't, Davy!! Just don't!!" He yelled, and began to pace again, clenching his fists in complete rage. Davy didn't dare say anything more, but instead he backed as far as he could against the wall and stayed there, watching Mike pace with anguished eye's. Mike paced for a moment, not saying anything. But then he did. "If only none of this had happened! If only Micky and I hadn't been awake so early that morning than we wouldn't have-" "Heard Tommy." Davy finished his sentence with a sick tone in his voice. Mike turned to him, rage etchd in his face. Davy wouldn't stand for this, not one bit. "How could you, Mike." He stated coldly. "How could I what!!" Mike asked angrily. "Say that!!" Davy yelled. "Well it's true, isn't it!! If we hadn't found her none of this would've happened!! Peter would be here right now! Safe at home with us whare he belong's! Not wharever he is!!" Mike yelled, rounding on Davy with a deadly look in his eye's. "Wot about Tommy, huh!!" Davy asked, his own rage building against Mike's. Mike grabbed Davy's shoulders and pushed him back against the wall. "What about'er!!" He yelled in his face. Davy's angered expression never faltered, though. "Haven't you even thought about'eh!!" "Sure I've thought about'er!! I've thought about how she got us involved in this mess in the first place!!" Mike yelled, not a single hint of regret in his voice. Davy's eye's narrowed as he stared at Mike. His rage had reached it's peak, and was slowly creeping over the edge. Davy pushed Mike back away from him with all the force he had, knocking him onto the floor. "Don't you evah say that again!!! You honestly think that this'ole bloody mess is Tommy's fault!! How could you say those thing's about'eh, you no good, son of a-" "Don't you talk to me like that!!" Mike bellowed, starting to sit up. Davy jumped on him, knocking him back down and holding his arm's against the floor. "Why not!! You'eh not my motheh!!! I can say woteveh I please, thank you!!" Davy protested, letting out his rage in the strength he used to hold Mike down. Mike stared at him, slightly with surprise, but mostly with hot anger. You could almost see the steam coming from his ear's. "Tommy loved you like a fatheh." Davy stated coldly. "And this is wot you do, turn you'eh back on'er like the jerk that you a'ah! You know wot she's probly doin' right now? Huh!? She's probly sitt'n alone somewha'eh knowing ever'eh'thing'll be fine, because she know's that you'an Micky a'ah comin'ta save'eh. That's probly wot she's thinkin'. But I guess she's gotta get'eh fact's straight, doesn't she. (pause) You havent got the right to pose as'eh fatheh, you can't love anybody that much." Davy's word's cut deep into Mike soul like's spear's, and remembering his own word's only made it worse. How could he have been so blind? Davy removed himself from his position over Mike and stormed out the front door, the slam of it ratteling the wall's. Mike sat on the floor, his mind completely gone. He had never heard such hurtful word's come from Davy's mouth before, especaily not one's directed at him. It was like being shot from every direction at once, the blow and the pain put on his emotion's unbearable. But what killed him most was the thing's that he had said himself. He had told Tommy week's ago how he felt that she was really his daughter, and now look. Davy was right. PART THIRTEEN: DARKNESS CAPTIVATES THE MIND AND SOUL "Mike?...MIKE!!" Peter cried at the sound of a familiar voice near his ear. Then it was gone. A slight gust of wind came at the sound of a door closing. Peter was alone again. How long would this go on, Peter thought. He had realized sometime after waking up that he was quite alone, and wharever he was, it was somewhat wide. And cold. His hand's were beginning to hurt from being tied behind his back for so many hours, but his ankles were ok, he noted. They were tied also. But the tape over his eye's still prevented him from seeing anything, not even light. And that made him a little scared. But he was more worried about Tommy than himself. If only he knew wether or not she was ok. The thought that she might not even be alive had already sent Peter's gut plummeting to the floor. "Oh Tommy..." He whispered to himself with agony. "If only you were here...." Tommy sat on the cold floor, in much the same state as Peter. Only there was someone there with her. She could hear the footstep's, and could sense the presence clearly. She heard a noise to her side, and she turned her head sharply, as if she could see what it was. But she couldn't, she remembered. Someone touched her shoulder then, and she jerked back. "Get away!" She shrieked. This was worse than her nightmeres, and this time, Micky wasn't there to save her! Peter was somewhare near, she hoped, but whare!? Suddenly Tommy cought the sense that there was more than one person in the room, and she scooted back against the wall, completely petrified. "Who are you?" Came a quiet male voice, so peacefull and confident sounding that Tommy's stomach tied into a tight knot. "I...I don't know." Tommy almost whispered, too scared to even speak at a normal tone. God please, make Micky come! Tommy prayed/pleaded mentally. "Yes you do, what's your name?" The voice came again. "Tommy." she stated. "No, that's not it. That's the name you were givin, what's your real name?" "I don't remember." "Yes you do." Someone touched Tommy's shoulder again, and she jerked away fiercly. "Get away from me!" She shouted. "Whare do you live?" "I don't know. "I think you do. Your friend's are very worried about you, they want to know whare you've been the past month." "I'v been with my friend's." "No. No no no. You're real friend's." "Micky is my real friend." "Who are you?" Someone placed their finger's lightly on Tommy's head, and she ducked down. "I don't know!" "Yes you do!""Leave me alone!" "Who are you!?" "I don't remember!" Someone touched her back, she pulled away. "Stop it!!" Someone touched her hand, and she pulled away. She rolled across the floor, anywhare she could go to get away from them. "Micky!!" She cried. Her shoulders were grabbed suddenly and she pulled hard to get away, but the grip was strong, and she couldn't pull away. "Try to remember." "I can't!!" Someone touched her side, and she tried desperately to pull away. At the same time, she was touched on the head again. It was driving her crazy! "TRY!!" "I CAN'T!!" Now her voice was more like a desperate sob, and all at ounce everything stopped. All the touching, all the question's, stopped. Her shoulders were released and she dropped to the floor, sliding up against the wall with fear. Everyone that had been there had left, and she was alone once again. She began to cry with pure exaustion and fear, even though the tear's would never make it past her eye's because of the tape. Nearly every sob was a cry of Micky's name. Micky stoud on the verendah in the early afternoon, but the time had not been noted by him. Clutched in his left hand was the blood stained rag they had found pinned to Davy's shirt, and in his mind was every thought that could in any way be revolved around the one he felt he had let down. Tommy. Tommy had trusted him with her entire life and soul. How could he have let this happen to her, after all he had promised to her. He had been right there. Right next to her bed, but why hadn't he heard anything? He could have saved her, and in all honesty, he would have killed any unfamiliar face in the room. But no, he hadn't woken up, hadn't heard anything but Peter's scream from down in the living room. Peter. The very thought of Peter sent Micky's stomach careening out of control. Peter had tried to save her, and this is what he got in return. Micky's thought's turned breifly to the news he had watched on tv about a month ago. Only this time, the victom, or victom's, could be identified. He emmediately cut this thought into tiny little peices. That was not going to happen. As long as Micky could save them, he would. He just didn't know how. Late that night, Micky stood in the storage closet, digging through a box. There's got to be one somewhare around here, he thought with frustration. "Micky?" Micky whirled around, a hand flying to his chest, and saw Davy standing in the doorway of the storage closet. "Don't DO that!" He hissed, then resumed his search. "Wot a'you doing?" Davy asked. Just then, Micky pulled a flashlight out of the box and smiled. He didn't answer Davy's question as he walked passed him and into the living room. "You'eh going aftah th'm, ah'n't you?" Davy said it more like an accusation than a question. Micky simply nodded as he headed for the verendah door. "Well, I'm coming with you." Davy said. "But you're-" Micky started, turning to face him, but stopped when he realized that Davy was already dressed. Davy folded his arm's across his chest, knowing exactly what Micky had been about to say, and realized that getting dressed before he came downstair's had been the best idea he'd had in a while. "Fine. C'mon." Micky grumbled, knowing it would be no use trying to get him to stay. Davy trotted to catch up with Micky and closed the door behind him. Micky paused on the step's and turned to Davy. "Think we should get Mike?" Davy frowned. He didn't want to get Mike, and he also didn't want to tell Micky what he had said earlier that day. "I don't think so. Someone should stay and watch the house." He said flatly. Micky thought that that had been the worst excuse he had heard in a very long time, but let it pass. He didn't want to waste anymore time. "Kay, let's go." They got as far as the place near the ally whare they had found Davy. "This is the spot." Micky said. Then he scanned the area. "Ok, here's the plan." He started, and Davy rolled his eye's. It was a whole dramatic's scene when Micky fell into leader mode. "You take this side of the street, and I'll take that side. Search every area until you reach the end, then turn back and double check. I'll meet you back here in a little bit, got it?" "Yeah." Davy replied. Then Micky turned and quickly jogged across the street. Davy drew in a deep breath as he started down the sidewalk, then he realized something. Much to his irritaion, he had forgotten a flashlight! Ya stupid dummy, he scolded himself mentally. Oh well, he thought, at least I'm not afraid of the dark. He came to a shop and leaned against the window, cupping his hand's around his eye's and peering in. He looked around and, realizing that it was clear, moved on. The next thing he came to was a dark allyway. Now I really wish I had that flashlight, he thought. But he wasn't going to skip it, Micky said to search everything, and if they had any chance at all of finding a clue to this mess, that's exactly what Davy would have to do. He turned to face the street and saw Micky peering into a grocery store. "Hey Micky!" He hissed rather loudly, but Micky didn't hear him. Davy grumbled something under his breath and picked up a small stone. Taking one step back, he hurled the stone across the street, whare it hit Micky's leg right above his ankle. Micky jumped at least a foot into the air and whirled around to see Davy waving at him and grinning. He frowned. "What!?" He hissed. "I need to use you'ah flashlight!" Davy hissed back, his stupid grin dissapearing. Micky nodded and, with all the strength he could get into his arm, hurled the flashlight high over the street. Davy watched it fly into the air and touk a couple step's foreward, just barely being able to catch it with both hand's. He waved his thank's as Micky turned and resumed his search. Davy turned to the ally and, drawing in another deep breath, walked slowly in, dissapearing into the darkness. After a moment, he flipped on the light and used it to scan all over the ally. Most of what he saw were trashcan's, graffiti, or locked door's. If he looked higher, he could see a couple window's, with potted plant's on the edge, dotting the wall's, but he preffered keeping the flashlight closer to the ground. Every now and then, he would shine the light into a window that sat level with the ground, but he never saw anything interresting, just storage cellar's and such. Suddenly, Davy stopped dead in his track's. He backed up and shined his light into a ground level window he had just passed, and his eye's went wide. There, laying against the wall in the corner of the room, was Tommy! Davy emmediately dropped to the window and shined his flashlight in again, just to make sure he wasn't emagining thing's. He wasn't. Tommy lay curled up like a cat, wearing only a pear of Davy's boxer's and one of Mike's thin t-shirt's, and shivering slightly. Her hand's were tied behind her back, her feet were tied at the ankles, and there was tape covering her eye's. Davy wanted to call out to her, but knew that that would be a VERY stupid thing to do. So instead, he tapped lightly on the glass, trying to get a response from her. He did. Tommy jumped, nearly screaming-Davy realized-at the sudden sound. She backed further into the corner, shivering even more. Her body was more tense now than Davy had ever seen before. What the devil had she been through? Davy now thought better of tapping on the glass again, and leapt to his feet. He ran through the ally and back out the way he had come, and scanned the other side of the street for Micky. "Micky!!" He called in a hushed voice. If he made it any lower, Micky never would have heard him. But he did. Micky ran out of a different ally and looked over at Davy, question and hope both written in his face. Davy simply nodded and made a waving motion for Micky to get his tail over there, which he did. "Did you find anything?" Micky asked, when he was halfway across the street. "You bet you'ah briches, I did!" Davy said, grabbing Micky by the arm and hauling him into the ally. Moment's later, Davy and Micky knelt down in front of the window and Davy shined the flashlight in. Micky gasped at the sight of Tommy, as well as the state she was in. "Oh God...." He breathed. "Wot'ah we gonna do, man?" Davy asked. Micky looked over at Davy with a very determined expression. "Get her out." The sudden noise brought Tommy awake in a flash. Not again, she thought with horror as she backed against the wall. Someone was there, she couldn't tell if they were in the room or outside the door, but they were there. Three times they had come, each time driving her further down with the obsessive touching and questioning. Wasn't it enough that she was already in pain in almost every place? What had she done? There were small creaking, scraching sound's that echoed only slightly throughout the cold, damp room, and Tommy's heart was pounding out of her chest with fear. What were they doing? She could hear a soft, hushed murmer from somwhare at the far end of the room, then a small thump on the floor sent Tommy's heart to three times it's normal pace. She could hear the footstep's getting closer, and she realized how heavy her breath had become. Whoever it was, they were close now, she could sense it. Then she felt a slight touch on her shoulder, and she snapped! Before the scream could even escape her mouth, a hand blocked it. I'm gonna die! Tommy thought frantically. She struggled hard to get out of grip, but to no avail. "Tommy, it's ok! It's me." A familiar voice soothed, but the grip on her did not loosen. Tommy felt someone untie the ropes that held her hand's, and she stopped struggeling. ".....Mi.....Micky?" "Yeah, it's Micky." Micky's voice was like heaven. God had heard her prayer! "Oh Micky!" Tommy sobbed. With her hand's now free, she wrapped her arm's around his neck and held on for dear life. "Ssshhhhh, it's alright now. You're alright. Everything's gonna be ok..." Micky purred huggin her close. Thank God he had found her. She's so cold, he realized. Tommy was indeed still shivering, and Micky's skin felt hot against her own. Micky held her with one arm as he rached down to untie her ankles. He didn't want to try and take the tape off yet for fear of hurting her. After her ankles were free, Micky placed his other arm on her back again. "Tommy, we have to go now. We gotta get you home before you freeze." Micky said, and he scooped her up from the floor and carried her to the small window. "You ready, Davy?" Micky asked. "Yeah, hand'eh up." Davy said. "Honey, I'm gonna give you to Davy now, ok. and he'll pull you out." "Don't leave me, Micky." Tommy sobbed, clutching onto Micky's shirt. "It's ok, Tommy. I'm coming up right after ya, ok. But we can't get outta here at all if we don't go one at a time." With that, Micky held her up to the window and Davy touk hold of her arm's, pulling her through while Micky pushed carefully. After she was out, Micky climbed out himself and touk Tommy in his arm's again. "What about Peter?" Tommy asked then. Micky looked over at Davy. "Look's like you're gonna have to go after him, man." Davy nodded solomnly and started through the window. "Hey Davy?" Micky said, and Davy looked up at him through the window. "Yeah?" "Be careful." Micky's concern was more then clear on his face, and Davy smiled reasuringly. "Ah'n't I olway's." Micky gave him a "yeah right" look, and Davy dissapeared within the room. The brown cellar door opened with a low *creeeeek* and the short, Englishmen poked his head out, taking in the scene before him. To his right, there was a simple wall with a broom leaning against it. To his left, a large flight of stair's leading up to a door. And straight in front of him was another door. Ok, Davy thought, here goes nothin'. He slipped through the door and tiptoed over to the other door, leaning against it and listening closely. No sound. He tried the doorknob, it wasn't locked! That didn't come as much of a shock to Davy, considering the door to the cellar whare they had found Tommy hadn't been locked either. Why lock it when your prisoners are tied hand and foot and blindfolded, not to mention scared half to death of even leaving a corner of the room. Davy turned the knob slowly and peered into the room. There was Peter! He was in much the same state as Tommy had been in, curled up in a corner of the room, wearing boxers and a thin t-shirt, and shivering all over. Davy's stomach sky-rocketed into his throat, he had never seen his friend like this before. Quickly, he rushed into the room and fell at Peter's side. "Petah?" He whispered, slightly nudging his friend. Peter jumped suddenly and cried out in fear. Davy jumped at the sudden loud sound and slapped his hand over Peter's mouth, as Micky had done with Tommy. "Ssshhhh! Quiet man, they'll hea'h you!" Davy hissed, trying to hold down his frightened friend, who stopped at the sound of Davy's voice. "Petah, just cool it. It's me, Davy. I'm gonna take my hand away now, you promise not to scream?" Peter nodded vigiresly, and Davy released him, setting to work untying his hand's. Peter didn't say a word as Davy did this, he just sat very still. Davy untied his ankles and tossed the ropes aside, then he reached up tword Peter's eye's and pulled slightly at the thick, grey tape. Peter jerked away slightly, pain and fear both etched in his face. Davy pulled back and realized that they would have to wait until they got him back home to figure out what to do about the tape. It was really adhesive. "Come on, Petah. We'll figu'ah out the tape problem when we get back home." Davy said, taking Peter by both hand's and helping him stand. His leg's wobbled slightly as Davy led him through the door and into the other cellar, tword the window, whare Micky waited with Tommy in his arm's. "Peter!" Micky cried happily, and Tommy jumped slightly, both at the sudden sound and at the name she just heard. "Peter?" She questioned. "Tommy!" It was the first real word that had come from Peter's mouth since Davy had found him. "Olright, Micky. Help'im out." Davy instructed. Micky turned to Tommy. "Tommy, stay here, ok. I gotta help Davy." He set Tommy up against the brick wall and moved to the window to help Peter through. "Ok, come on, Pete." He said, taking him by the hand's and pulling him up through the window while Davy helped push. "Ok, you got'im?" Davy asked. "Yeah, hurry up. Let's get outta here." Micky replied. "Whare's Tommy?" Peter asked then, and Micky directed his hand tword Tommy's. Peter felt her hand and clasped it with his own. "Tommy!?" He said, pulling her tword him. She didn't even pause to think about it when she flew her arm's around his neck, hugging him the way the had hugged Micky. "Oh Peter, thank God you're alright!" She cried as he held her as close to him as he could get her. Relief ran over them both in a huge rush. "I was so worried about you..." Peter said, both of them forgetting completely that neither Davy nor Micky were still there. "Come one, Davy." Micky said, turning to his friend and reaching down to help him out. PART FOURTEEN: AND IT LOOK'S LIKE WE MADE IT ONCE AGAIN The Pad was very quiet, with a single light on in the livingroom. That is, until one of Davy's maraca's hit the wall and cracked, sending small bean's flying everywhare! Mike sat down heavily on the black chais loung, twisting his green, wool hat in his hand's. He had woken up an hour ago and realized that Micky and Davy were both gone, and that's when he practically cracked. Had they been kidnapped, too? And if so, why hadn't they taken him? Did they take off on their own little search? If they had, they could have at least left a note!! Mike didn't know what to think. On one hand, he was completely enraged. And on the other hand, he was worried out of his mind! Mike jumped completely out of his skin when the phone rang with what seemed to Mike like a piercing siren. He leapt headlong across the living room and grabbed the phone, not knowing what to expect. "H'llo?" "Hello, Mike, We need you to do us a fav'eh." The casualty in Davy's voice drew Mike's anger higher, and at the same time, a wave of sheer joy and relief ran over him. His anger didn't dissipate though. "Whare in the world are you!?" Davy flinched and pulled the phone away from his ear at Mike's shout. "Will you cool it!" Davy hissed. "COOL IT!! How can you ask me to cool it!? You guy's left without even saying anything!" Mike shot back. "Will ya just listen t'me, Mike! It's impo'nt! We need you to come pick us up at the co'neh of West and Main, got it?" Davy intructed. "Why?" Mike asked suspiciously. "Because Tommy and Petah would nevah make it oll the way home on foot, even if we helped th'm. Mike? Hey, a'ah you the'eh?" The phone had been abandon as it hung on it's cord near the floor, and Mike had already fired up the engine of the Monkeemobile and was peeling out of the driveway. Micky sat on the couch in the living room, cradling Tommy and singing softly. There was still tape over her eye's, and she still wouldn't leave Micky's protective arm's. Peter sat on the chais loung, his right hand gripping the edge so tightly that Mike thought he might rip right through the leather. He was kneeling in front of Peter, carefully trying to pull the tape from over his eye's, he hadn't gotten very far at all. "He'ah, try this." Davy said, walking into the living room from the kitchen with a wet, warm washcloth. "Thank's." Mike drawled, taking the rag from Davy and lifting it to Peter's face. "Peter, yer gonna feel somethin' warm and wet on yer face, OK?" Mike said, just before he touched Peter in the least with the rag. They had discovered that if they did anything to either Peter or Tommy without warning, they'd freak out. Peter nodded as Mike pressed the rag against the tape, trying to soften or loosen it. "How's it coming?" Micky asked, looking over at his friend's. "It's not coming anywhare." Mike replied dryly as he removed the rag and pulled lightly at the top, left corner, which he had gotten to come up slightly before. It didn't come up easily, but the fact that it started to lift was good enough. Mike pulled little by little, knowing by Peter's expression that this proccess was very painful. "It's alright, buddy. Soon it'll be off." Mike said, trying to ease Peter's pain a little bit with word's. "Maybe y'should try the rag again, Mike." Davy suggested. "I know what I'm doing, Davy." Mike snapped. He didn't have to take any order's from anybody, especially Davy. "Look, I don't wanna pick fight's, I'm just trying t'help." Davy said, trying not to sound angered by Mike's attitude, even though he was. Why did Mike alway's have to get all angry at him? "W'll, I don't need any help." Mike said. "Fine, I just thought maybe-" "Ow!" Peter's expression of pain was only a small word, but it was enough for Mike. "Dangit, Davy! Now look watcha made made me do!" Mike retorted as he placed the rag back onto the upper part of Peter's face, trying to ease any pain he might have caused. "Me! What did I do!" Davy asked, almost yelling. "Yer breaking my consontration." Mike grumbled as he removed the rag and resumed his job. Davy let out an angred cry and stormed out of the Pad, making the wall's rattle as he slammed the verendah door behind him. Tommy jumped, gripping Micky again. Peter jumped as well, and his hand slid back along the edge of the chais loung as he gripped it again. Mike let out a low mumble in frustration under his breath. "It's a'right, Pete. There's nothin' to be afraid of." Mike said, trying to sound reasuring, but his anger showed clear as a bell over his word's. "What's up with you guy's, anyway?" Micky asked then. Mike hesitated for a moment. "Davy's just havin' some attitude problem's, that's all." He's not the only one, Micky thought, groaning inwardly. Three hours had gone by now, and they had managed to get the tape off of both Tommy and Peter's eye's. But the bruises and redness from the pain was still evident in and around their eye's. After Peter's scream at the bright light, even though the only source of light was coming from the simple lamp near the couch, they had concluded that the best thing for Tommy would be to remove the tape in a dark place, like the bedroom. Being temporarily blind from the long period of darkness, Peter had to be helped up the stair's to the bedroom by Mike, whare he fell asleep quickly. Micky helped Tommy upstair's and he set to work removing her tape. It touk almost an hour, but he finally got it off, and Tommy fell asleep quickly as well. Micky remembered that Tommy trusted Peter almost as much as she trusted him, and, as if it were an instinct, Micky lay Tommy next to Peter on his bed. He quietly slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him. He sighed as he trudged down the spiral stair's and plopped down into a seat at the kitchen table. The Pad was very quiet, Micky realized, but he didn't pay much notice. His mind was revolved on other thing's. How were they going to protect Tommy now? They might even have to find a way to protect Peter, too. There was no telling for sure at this point. Micky crossed his arm's and rested them on the table edge, then he let his head rest on them. What were they supposed to do? Davy sat on a large rock out on the sand, watching the sun rise over the horizon. His thought's were training on many different thing's at ounce. Who had started this mess. Why had they started it in the first place. Who kidnapped Tommy and Peter? Why they had done it? Maybe they were the same people who started everything. Most likely, he thought with a snort. Why did Mike have to by such a stupid, self rightious- "Davy?" A female voice spoke hesitantly, and Davy looked up in surprise. "Oh, 'ello Jackie." Davy said, giving her a half-smile. Jackie frowned, something was up. "You ok?" She asked, sliding next to him on his rock. "Yeah, I'm olright. I've just got alot on my mind, that's oll." Davy replied simply. "Anything inperticular?" She asked. Davy could tell she was some what worried, so he didn't push her away. "Well, my roomy's'n I a'ah havin' some trouble with Tommy." "The one your friend found on the beach, right?" Jackie asked. "Yep, that's th'one." Davy replied. "Mind if I ask what the problem is? Maybe I can help." Jackie offered. Davy could see it in her eye's what she meant. Being a girl, Jackie figured that would be a help to another girl living with four grown men. If only she knew, Davy thought..... "It's not really that kind of a problem." Davy stated matter-of-factually. Jackie sighed and looked out over the ocean, smoothing out her jean's. She didn't want to push him into explaining, so she decided to just wait and see if Davy would tell her on his one timing. Which he did. Davy turned to look at Jackie, all joking aside. "You really wanna know what's up?" He asked. "Sure, if you want to tell me." Jackie replied, still not taking her gaze off of the ocean. Davy sighed. "Well, it stah'ted out like this...." Davy explained partly what was going on, leaving out a few thing's, up until Mike's outburst. Jackie had trained her full attention on him, and her expression had turned to complete worry. "Why didn't you go to the police?" She asked, almost astounded. Davy frowned as he thought about this question. Why hadn't they gone to the police? Then it dawned on him. The phone call. "They gave us strict instruction's not to." He said. Well, maybe not "strict" instruction's, but.... "Oh, I get it." Jackie replied quietly. There was a slight pause before Jackie hopped off of the rock and turned to face Davy. "I have to go, will I see you around?" "Maybe." Davy replied, flashing a sideway's smile at her. She reached up and kissed him lightly before turning to go. Davy watched as she walked away along the sand, and his thought's turned abruptly to the paper Tommy had writen. He recited it aloud to himself again, but didn't bother letting himself get angry trying to figure out the answer. The darkness. It was like an on-going cave of black that seemed to suck at you from every direction. Someone was there, pacing around him like a hauk. He was kneeling on the floor, not able to get to his feet. He could hear the footstep's and the light breathing. There were other's there also. He tried to move away, but was pushed back. Out in the open, there were no wall's, no nothing that could hide him. "Who are you?" Came a hushed, female voice. "Leave me alone!" He snapped instantly. "I can't do that. You shouldn't have gotten involved." "Involved in what!?" He demanded. A sharp pain in the back told him that that hadn't been the best thing to do, and he fell face first onto the floor, not being able to stop himself with his hand's. "I'm giving you a chance, who are you?" He didn't reply. After a moment, someone grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to his feet, holding both arm's to keep him balanced. Someone was right in front of him, he could sense it. He tried to back away, but to no avail. "Who are you?" The voice came again, this time much deeper and more demanding. "I....I don't remember." There was another sudden pain to his face and he fell to the floor. Someone had hit him! "Lier!" He bit his lip, trying to hold back the pain and tear's. Someone touched his shoulder, and he pulled away fiercly. Then, whoever it was grabbed his shoulder and wouldn't let go. "Get away!" He cried, struggling to get free of the person's grasp. "Just leave me alone!!" Peter lurched into a sitting position in his bed, his eye's wide with fear, and his face damp from sweat. He emediately burried his face in his hand's, sobbing. Just the sheer memory of that aweful place would haunt him for the rest of his life, he just knew it. He felt a cold finger touch his arm, and he jumped back, nearly falling out of bed. "Micky?" Tommy's voice sounded so petrified and unsure, and a wave of relief rushed over Peter. "No, it's me, Peter." He whispered. "Peter?" Tommy's question sounded more like a hopeful praise. Peter reached out and felt around for her hand, considering he could still not see. And neither could she, as his light touch made her pull back in fear. "It's just me, Tommy." Peter ashured her again. And this time, it was she who reached out for his hand, and finding it. He pulled her close to him and hugged her, and she returned the hug. Peter rocked her back and fourth, resting his cheek on the top of her head. They sat like this for quite some time, each giving the other the support, the love, and the safety they both needed. They had both been through the same thing Only they understood. PART FIFTEEN: A LITTLE BIT ME, A LITTLE BIT YOU "You really should go talk to Davy, ya know." Micky commented as he sat on the couch, re-tying the string around a yo-yo. It was almost dark now, and Davy hadn't come in yet. Mike's bullet train of thought suddenly went careening off the track, and he glanced up, startled by his friend's bluntness. "Why's that?" He drawled, feeling strongly that he had no reason to. "Because, that's why." Micky stated simply, so simply that an expression of annoyence appeared on Mike's face. There was a long pause as Mike's train was magically repaired and his mind moved swiftly down the track of thought. He wasn't really thinking about anything inperticular. Tommy and Peter mainly, but his thought's would turn every once and a while to his childhood, or his highschool day's, the old motercycle he used to have, but gave up so they could afford the GTO, the day he met Peter in his new high school when he moved to California. It had been their idea to rent out the old beach house when they got out of high school. Then Micky and Davy came along, and the pieces of friendship seemed to fall together all too well, and here they were. Once again, the bullet train became a fiery reckage at Micky's rude interruption. "Well, you better go stop'im now before he does something stupid." Mike jerked his head up at that. "Huh?" "Take a look for yourself, wollie." Micky said, knodding tword the large verendah window. Mike stoud, ignoring the "wollie" comment, and moved to the window, whare he spotted Davy instantly a little way's down the beach. He stood still, knee deep in the water as it seeped up his pant's about an inch or two. He just stood, staring out at the ocean with an intense gaze that never shifted. The wind picked up for a moment, and swept up under his t-shirt. As Mike watched his friend with idle curiosity, he began to draw his own conclusion's to this strange picture, and he panicked. Davy shifted his right foot ever-so-slightly, feeling the sand in between his toes, but he didn't acknowledge the feeling. He had taken off his shoes and left them on the sand, and he could have cared less about his pant's, or maybe even his shirt for that matter. He hadn't really considered taking his shirt off before, yet it still didn't accure to him even now. The wind picked up again and ruffled his hair, but he didn't seem to feel or notice it. His gaze shifted to a foot or two in front of him, whare the water came down with a small crash just before it rippled past him and crawled up the shore. It seemed as though the waves had taken complete control of his mind as he stared blankly at them, his expression soulless. "Davy?" He didn't even hear his friend's soft call from further up the beach as he stoud, poised in the water. His gaze shifted again, this time straight ahead, whare there was only a faint glow whare the sun had just been. Slowly-every so slowly-Davy began to walk further out. He stopped at the point whare the water crashed against his stomach, and he faced down, watching as it did. "Davy?" Mike watched his friend, a mix of emotion's displayed on his face. What was wrong with him? Suddenly, as if a strange reply to Mike's inward question, Davy sucked in a deep breath and kicked his leg's out, allowing himself to fall backward's into the water. Mike watched in horror as his friend dissapeared beneath the waves, and after a moment, he realized Davy was not coming back up! He leapt across the few feet that had been seperating him from the water, and rushed out to whare Davy had been, and still was, in a matter of speaking. He was only a few feet under, laying on the sand beneath the water, letting out very small air bubbles to keep himself under. Mike reached down under the water, linked his arm's under Davy's, and yanked him to the surface. Davy never made a move against Mike as he pulled him to his feet. "Davy!?" Mike touk one look at Davy's faciel expression and realized, much to his relief, he wasn't dead. Davy's lip's curved only slightly at his friend's shell-shocked expression. "Eye, Mike." He said, his voice barely audible, even if you couldn't hear the crashing waves. Mike was completely speechless. He didn't know wether to be thankful his friend was still alive, or to be furious at him at pulling such a stupid stunt. "Watcha doin' out'eah?" Mike decided that now would be a good time to be mad. Davy was so calm it tour at his nerves. "What am I doind out here!? I should be asking you that!" He bellowed. Davy smile grew slightly. "Why don't you, then?" He asked, the tone in his voice almost mocking. Mike looked completely dumb founded. Davy sounded almost like Peter, only in a more stupid, English way. He decided that the best thing to do right now would be to save his anger for when Davy was....in his right mind, so to say....and try to be calm. "Ok, then. Davy, why are you out here?" He asked, trying to sound as calm as he could without sounding really REALLY un-like-himself. Davy seemed to be thinking thuroughly about his answer, then he shrugged. "I dunno. (pause) It's awefully cold out'eah, though. I only just now noticed it." Davy paused, then he looked down at himself, and laughed slightly. He looked up at Mike, a silly smile playing on his face. "I'm oll wet." He giggled. "No wondah I'm so bloody cold." He laughed a little more at that, and Mike had to smile. He had never seen Davy like this before, and to be honest, it was kind of amusing. "Sorry I yelled at ya, Davy. I didn't mean to say those thing's I said about Tommy. I was just kinda out-of-it." Whare had that come from, Mike thought in regard's to his own word's. Then he realized how much he meant them. He had been out-of-it, alright, ever since the night Tommy and Peter dissapeared. Davy looked at Mike, his expression unreadable until he spoke. "I'm sorry too, Mike. I had no right t'talk like that. (Pause) Pal's?" Davy reached out a shaky hand to Mike, who touk it instantly and shook it lightly. Only then did he notice how cold Davy's hand was, and it dawned on him to ask a question. "Davy, why are you in the water, anyway?" Davy seemed confused, until he looked down, as if only right then noticing that they were both still standing almost hip deep in salt water, and he smiled a little. "Well, you'eh in the wateh too, Mike." He stated teasingly, and Mike tugged at his hand, getting Davy to follow him to shore as he turned to walk. "Very funny. I only came out here to safe you." Mike commented as the reached the shoreline. "Save me? From wot?" Mike turned and looked puzzling eye's at his friend. "Davy, you sat under the water for almost two minutes!" He said. Davy released hand's with Mike and reached up to brush away a lock of brown, wet hair that had fallen in front of his eye's. "I did? Oh, I guess I did, didn't I." He said with a bemused smile. Mike sighed at that. "C'mon, shotgun. Let's get you in the house and into some dry clothes before ya freeze out here." He said, draping one arm around the shoulders of his not-so-into-it friend and leading him back to the Pad. The bedroom door opened slightly and Peter peered out only for a moment before he ducked back into the room. The bright light coming from the living room flooded into the bedroom, and it hurt his eye's so much that he had to close the door. Micky noticed this, though, and emediately put his plan into action. Getting up from the couch, he snatched up two pair's of sunglasses from off the coffee table, one of Mike's and one of his own, and shoved them into his back pocket. Then he bounded up the stair's with, if possible, very light sounding step's. He opened the door only a crack to peek inside, the room was very dark and quiet. "Peter?" Micky whispered, and a small gasp from the other side of the room was his reply. "Peter, it's ok. It's me, Micky. Whare are you?" "I'm over he-" The sound of a sudden thump made Micky smile only slightly, Peter had tripped no doubt. His eye's grew used to the darkness, and he stepped into the room, looking all around for the outlined figure of his friend. He found it. Peter was on his knees, and carefully rising to his feet. He reached around for something to hold on to and pull himself up with, and the dressor was only about a foot away, but he couldn't seem to find it. So Micky filled the void by reaching out, grasping Peter's hand, and pulling him to his feet. "Thank's." Peter said, gripping Micky's hand like a life-preserver. "No problem. Here, take these." He said, pulling Mike's sun glasses from his back pocket and handing them to Peter. "What is it?" He asked curiously and he felt them all over with his hand's. "Sun glasses. Put'em on so I can turn on the light." Micky replied. "Oh, ok." Peter said, hesitantly slipping them over his eye's. Micky moved to the other side of the room and flipped on the light, and Peter reacted only slightly to it, but after a minute, a smile broke out on his face, and he covered it with his hand's in joy. The darkness was gone! At last!! Even though everything was still very blurry, in fact, he could barely make out Micky's outline, but at least the darkness was gone! Micky peered around the room and spotted Tommy, still asleep on Peter's bed. "I guess we better get outta here before she wakes up, huh?" Micky said, heading for the door and motioning for Peter to follow him. Peter heard the door open, and figured he's better say something now and not try and hide it. Even though he didn't want anything to rain on his parade of light. "Uh...Micky, I....I can't see all that good." He said. Micky turned to Peter and reached out, grasping his hand once more. "Come on, Pete. I'll help ya." He said. Davy sat at the kitchen table in dry clothes, sipping a cup of tea Mike had made. It was rather bland, Davy noted, but he didn't let on or say anything to Mike about it. He reached up and scratched the back of his head, realizing his hair was still wet, and very cold. He glanced up at a sound coming from the tornado stair's, and smiled when he saw Micky helping Peter with each step. "Eye, Petah!" He greeted cheerily at the sight of his friend being up-and-about. Peter smiled, even though he couldn't see Davy, he could recognize that English greeting anywhare. "Hi, Davy!" He chimed as he pulled a chair back and carefully sat down across from him. Micky noted that Davy was doing a very good job at pretending not to notice the red, almost bruised looking skin around Peter's eye's that the sun glasses did not cover. "Whare's Mike?" Peter asked. "Over here." He smiled at the familiar drawl from the bandstand, and turned his head, as if he could see Mike with ease. "Hey, Mike!" He greeted, but realized-without faltering his smile-that he couldn't make out Mike's figure in the cluster of intrument's. That soon changed, though, as Mike raised from the small stool he sat on, set his 12-string aside, and ambled over to the kitchen table, plopping down next to Peter. "Hey, man. How'ya feelin'?" He asked. "Better, thank's. I still can't see to good, though." "That's olright, you'll be 20/20 again soon, don't you worry." Davy chided before he touk another sip of the tea. "It is clearin' up, though. I can see light, and I can just barely see you guy's. I can tell you Mike is 'cause he's so tall, and Davy's easy to spot," "Eye!" Davy retorted, even though he was still smiling slightly. "And Micky stand's out because it look's like he's got an animal sitting on his head or something." Peter smiled sheepishly at his own comment in regard's to Micky's messy mop of curl's, and Micky's face turned a light pink with embaressement. Mike grinned lazely at the comment, and Davy had to put a hand over his mouth to smuther the giggles. "Anyway," Micky said, clearing his throat. "Y'hungry, Pete? I can fix up some macaroni & cheeze." "Is that oll you know'owe t'make?" Davy asked teasingly. "Sure! That sound's great. I havent eaten in a while." Peter replied. Almost two day's, Mike thought to himself as he sneaked a peak at Peter's mid-section, and tried to guess how much his weight had gone down by the look's of his stomach. Peter didn't notice this though as he reached up and carefully rubbed his eye a little, hoping that his eye's didn't look at bad as they felt. Micky had begun to prepare a pot of water, when there came a light thump from above them. "That would probably be Tommy." Mike said, and shifted his gaze onto Micky, who touk his cue and left the pot of water to boil on the stove as he bounded up the stair's. He cracked the door open just enough so that he could squeeze through, then he shut it again. Tommy's fretful cry came before he even had a chance to say anything. "Get away!" "There's nothing t'be afraid of, honey. It's me, Micky." Micky said. "Micky?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, and he touk a step foreward, waiting impatiantely for his eye's to adjust to the light. "Tommy, whare are you?" He asked. "Over here." He heard her moving, and began to see her shadow near Peter's bed. He walked over to the bed and reached out his hand, hoping she would be able to find it on her own. Tommy, like Peter, still couldn't see, and she gropped around for his hand until she found it. Clinging to it, he pulled her close to him in a secure embrace. "You ok?" He asked. "Yeah, but it's so dark." She replied. He pulled his sun glasses out of his back pocket and placed them over her eye's. "These'll keep the light outta yer eye's, ok?" He said, leaing her tword the door. "But there isn't any-" She stopped abruptly and gasped, shading her eye's when Micky opened the door to the bedroom and the light from downstair's poored in. Micky smied and touk her hand. "C'mon, I'm makin' macaroni & cheeze downstair's. Peter's already up." He said as he led her down the spiral stair's. "Yeah, I noticed that when I woke up." Tommy said. Everything was a huge blur of light and faded color's, and Tommy was getting a headache trying to make out object's all around them as Micky helped her into a seat next to Davy at the kitchen table. "Hiya, Tommy!" Peter greeted merrily, and Tommy smiled, returning his greeting even though she couldn't see him. "Ello, luv!" Davy's warm greeting rang out next to her, and she smiled in his general direction. "Ya sleep well?" Came Mike's drawl from the other side of the table, whare he sat next to Peter. "Well," She hesitated. "Not really, I keep having these aweful nightmere's, almost every time I close my eye's." "Same here." Peter said. There was an odd silence, but it soon faded. "Well, we'll hafta fix that, then." Everyone looked at Mike when he said this. "Ow's that?" Davy asked. "Well, I'v been thinkin', " "Uh oh." Micky said, trying to hide the smirk that played on his face. Mike gave him a sarcastic "You're a riot" look, then continued. "I think we need to make a few changes. We've got five people livin' here, and one bedroom. And we got the room down here that's only occupied by a couple boxes and stray furniture." "Oh, I get it!" Micky smiled. "That's a great idea, Mike! Another bedroom would be perfect!" The other's brightened at this, and Mike smiled his usual lazy, self-concious smile. "Exactly." After much deliberation, thinking, and hauling, they managed to get everything that was in the old, un-used room into the storage closet, and two bed's from upstair's into the room. It was decided that Peter and Tommy would sleep down stair's, and that Mike, Micky, and Davy would switch off sleeping on the floor in between there bed's. That way, Micky could have a chance at sleeping in a bed, since he hadn't in almost a solid month. And they had also dug a small, plug-in night light from a box in the storage closet, and stuck it in the wall by the door whare it sould be easily seen by Peter or Tommy, so that if they woke up still half asleep in the middle of the night, they'd see the light and know whare they were, and then they wouldn't get scared. They had also installed there own little security system, which they set up every night by balencing a glass bottle on the door knob of the front door, and verendah door, and the downstair's bedroom door, so that if anyone tried to get in, the bottle would easily fall and shatter on the floor, waking everybody up. They had also made a packed to make absalute sure that every door and window was securely locked before they retired for the night. Mike lay on his back in-between the two bed's with his hand's linked behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. He didn't bother trying to sleep anymore after realizing that he wasn't really all that tired. He had fallen asleep on the couch that afternoon and had been wide awake ever since. It had been a couple day's since they had rescued Peter and Tommy, but they never did go to the police. They were afraid that if they did, the cop's might issue Tommy into some type of care center or something, and that would probably make matter's worse. So, after very careful consideration on Mike and Micky's part, they decided it would be best not to go to the police. Mike looked up briefly to the right at Peter's bed as he shifted slightly, making the spring's on the bed squeak a little. He waited until Peter was perfectly still again to relax his muscles, knowing he wouldn't have to get up. Peter and Tommy's eye sight had been improving greatly over the day's, and they didn't have to wear sunglasses in the house anymore. But outside was a completely different matter. Most of the time, they avoided going outside at all, and if they ever did, they were sure to wear sunglasses. The redness and bruises around their eye's had begun to heal slightly, but it was a very slow process. "Mmmmm...........huh, Micky?....Micky!?" Mike was startled slightly by the small voice from the other bed. Tommy's cry had started as a small, fearful moan and had grown to outright screaming of Micky's name! Mike jumped from his position and knelt down beside Tommy's bed, putting a protective hand on her arm to settle her down. "Tommy? Tommy, ssshhhhh. Settle down, honey, it's alright...." Mike whispered soothingly as he got up to sit down on the bed and gather her up in his arm's. "Micky!!" She cried again, and Mike leaned close to her ear so she could hear him over the sound of her own cries. It touk a minute before she settled down, stopped screaming, and realized whare she was. "Tommy? Tommy!?" Now it was Peter who sounded scared. "It's alright, Pete. I got'er. She was just havin' another nightmere." Mike said. "Is she ok?" Peter was now sitting up in his bed, ready to go over to Tommy's bed if he felt the need. "Yeah, she's just a little shaken up, but she'll be ok." Mike replied as he brushed the stray hair's away from her face and rocked her back and fourth. "Are you sure?" Peter asked again, and Mike sighed exaspratingly. "Yes, I'm very sure, now go back to sleep." He said, helping Tommy to lay back down. "Is there anything I can do?" "Peter, go to sleep." Mike said bluntly as he picked up Tommy's pequin off of the floor, lifted her arm, and placed it next to her, letting her arm rest around it in a soft grip. Peter didn't say another word as he lay back down, facing Tommy's bed. Mike crawled back down onto the floor and pulled the blanket's up to his waist, alowing his muscles to relax once again. After a while, Peter fell asleep again, still facing Tommy's bed. And a long while later, Mike fell asleep as well. PART SIXTEEN: DAVY'S GONE.........COOKIES? There was a strange aroma within the Pad when Micky opened the verendah door and strolled in, sloshing water and sand all over the floor with each step. "Hey, what's cookin' in here?" He asked enthusiastically as he headed into the kitchen to see Tommy, Peter, and a very large mess of dough! "We're making cookies!" Tommy chorused as she picked up a round, funny looking cookie from the plate they had already filled with one hand, and, straightening her sailor hat, which had slumped to one side, with the other. "Yeah, we're using the bowl we made." Peter added as he held up the large bowl for Micky to see. "Here, try one!" Tommy said, holding the cookie up to Micky and smiling, excitedly waiting for Micky to judge their work. Uh oh, Micky thought as he smiled and touk the cookie from Tommy. He was well aware of Peter's baking skill's. Sure, he could make any type of breakfast dish with blueberry's in it, but after the cream of root beer soup he had prepared one night, it was decided that Mike and Micky would make lunch and dinner, considering Davy really couldn't cook worth a darn. Bracing himself for possibly the worst, Micky touk a small bite out of the cookie and chewed for a second. Tommy and Peter watched with complete glee as Micky's expression turned into a bright smile. "This taste's great!" He exclaimed, stuffing the remainder of the cookie into his mouth. "We thought you'd like them. It's my mom's recipe, they're her World Famous cookies!" Peter stated proudly as he rolled the last bit of dough and placed it onto the pan to go into the oven, then he stuck the bowl in the sink. "Eye, fella's!" Davy chimed as he strolled into the kitchen and picked up one of the cookies. "Wot's this?" He asked, eyeing it all over. "A cookie, ya ding bat! Whadda's it look like?" Micky said, grabbing another one and stuffing it in his mouth as Peter placed the last pan of them into the oven. Davy shrugged and touk a small bite, and it wasn't long before the entire cookie was gone. But when he reached for another one, Tommy pulled the plate away and set it in the corner of the counter. "Ah ah ah, not more for you two, we gotta save some for Mike." She said. "But he got two." Davy fake-pouted in a high pitched child's voice, crossing his arm's and sticking out his lower lip, scowling. "Hee hee, I got more than YOU!" Micky squealed, also in a high pitched voice as he poked a couple times at Davy's arm, giggling. Davy swatted at him, still well into his childish act, and Micky ran off into the living room, laughing and chanting "You'll never catch me! You'll never catch me!". "Hmph." Davy grumbled, plopping down rather heavily into a chair at the kitchen table and crossing his arm's again, returning to his former act. Peter put a hand over his mouth, trying to smuther the endless giggles at his friends' stupid behavior. Tommy grinned, trying not to laugh herself, and picked up a cookie from the plate. She walked over to Davy, holding out the cookie to him. He reached for it, and she pulled it back. "Hmph." He exclaimed again, re-crossing his arm's. "You promise to be good?" She asked, taking on a motherly tone. He looked up at her and smiled childishly, nodding. She patted him on the head and gave him the cookie, which he emediately stuffed into his mouth. "That's my little Davy, now you run along and play like a good little boy." She said, and Peter couldn't hold back and snort like sound as he tried in vein not to laugh. Micky was laughing himself silly into a pillow in the living room. "Thank's, mummy!" Davy squeaked, leaping from his chair. He whirled around, about the rush into the living room and tackle Micky, when he saw Mike standing near the bandstand, one hand over his mouth, smiling. He froze, and his entire face flushed to a bright red. Micky burst out into another fiit of histaric's and covered his face with the pillow again. "Having fun?" Mike asked, barely able to contain the laughter that was extremely audible in his voice. "I.....uh...." Davy stammered. "David?" Peter said, trying to muster a fatherly tone, and Davy turned to face him, a complete question written on his face. "Why don't you be a good little boy and go get drest, son. You'll want to look nice when your girlfriend get's here." Now it was Tommy's turn to force her own laughter back down with a nearby kitchen towel. "Yes, daddy." Davy mumbled as he leapt up the tornado stair's and into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. "What in the world was that all about!?" Mike asked, the laughter and pure amusment evident in his voice. "Davy wanted another cookie." Micky said, finally settling down again. Mike looked at each face for a moment, then shook his head. "I don't even want to know." He mumbled. Then there came a knock at the door. "Hark! I hear a knock apon yon door!" Micky shouted, leaping from the couch and skidding across the floor, grabbing the doorknob. He flung the door open and smiled at the lovely figure poised on the doorstep. "Well, hi there!" He chorused. "You must be........" Micky looked over at Mike, who mouthed the name of Davy's recent girlfriend. "Jackie! You must be Jackie. Come on in!" He said, standing aside and making an entering gesture. Jackie eye'd this strange person, taking in his wet, flushed apearence, and entered the Pad. "Thank you." She said. "Davy'll be down in a minute. He's just changin' out of his swimsuit." Mike said, casting her his usual lazy smile. "I'm Mike." He said, extending a hand to her, which she touk and gave a light shake. "I'm Micky!" Micky chorused with a grin as he shook her hand vigerously. "And I'm Peter, and this is Tommy." Peter introduced politely, grinning from ear to ear. Jackie shook his hand, and her smile brightened when she turned to Tommy, who's smile wasn't all that real. "So you're the one Davy keep's telling me all about, huh?" She said as Tommy lightly and carefully shook her hand. The blood drained from Peter's face slightly when she spoke, and his smile dissapeared. There was something about her voice..... "Eye, Jackie!" Davy sang out as he leapt down the spiral stair's and into the kitchen. "Hi, Davy!" She said before he pulled her into a light kiss in greeting. "Look's like you met the gang, huh?" He stated matter-of-factually. She nodded, and he smiled. "You wanna cookie? The'eh delicious! Petah and Tommy made'em themselves." He said. "Well, there not that great." Tommy said, blushing as she reached for the plate and held it out to Jackie. "Here ya go." She said, and Jackie touk one from the plate, taking only a small bite. "Mmmmm, these are good." She said, taking another bite. "They sure are." Micky said, trying to sneak another one off of the plate. Peter wapped his hand away lightly and Tommy pulled the plate back. "Ow!" He said, pretending to nurse his wounded hand. "Well, you guy's ready? Jackie didn't come oll th'way ovah h'eah just t'eat cookies." Davy said. "Yeah, come on you two." Mike said, rising from his chair and walking over the the bandstand, followed by Micky and Peter, as Tommy went to sit on the couch. "You can sit wha'eveh you want to, Jackie." Davy said. "Ok." Jackie replied, walking into the living room. Spying Tommy cuddling in the corner of the couch with a pillow, she smiled and sat down next to her. Tommy tensed up emediately, but didn't let on to it as she kept her eye's on the bandstand. Peter suddenly got a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach as he watched Jackie sit down next to Tommy, and he tried to ignore it as Micky anounced the first song, "When Love Come's Knockin'". The song went pretty good cinsidering that Peter was having some slight trouble consontrating on what he was doing. The next two song's went well, too. But on "I'm A Believer", he hit a sour note on accident, which caused Davy to fall off beat, and it just got worse from there, so they started over, with Mike and Davy both scowling for different reason's, and Peter apolegizing numorous times until they started again. The "Tommy's security" alarm was going off in his head, and he didn't know why, so he constantly tried to push it out of his mind, but to no avail. "That was great you guy's!" Jackie exclaimed after the last song. "Thank's" They all said almost at the same time as they set down their instrument's and began to clear the stage. Davy approached Jackie and spoke low. "You wanna get outta h'eah?" He asked, and Jackie smiled. "Sure." She said. "Uh, Mike, Jackie'n I a'goin fo'ah walk." Davy said, taking Jackie by the hand as they headed for the front door. "Okey, see ya." Mike replied, still sitting on the bandstand, strumming his guitar quietly. "Bye Jackie, it was nice t'meet ya!" Micky called just before he walked into the bathroom. "Bye, It was very nice meeting you all." She cast a light smile at Peter, then at Tommy, just before the door closed and they were gone. Peter let out a low breath as he set his bass down, and Mike looked up at him. "Somethin' wrong, Pete?" He asked. Peter looked over at his friend. "Oh, I dunno. I guess I'm just tired." He lied as he stepped down off of the bandstand and walked over to the couch whare Tommy still sat. He plopped down next to her, and she looked over at him, grinning slightly. "D.....Don't tell Davy but.....well, I don't like her." Tommy said in a very hushed voice. "Yeah, me either. She freak's me out." Peter said, also in a very hushed voice as he slouched back on the couch, folding his hand's across his stomach. Nothing else was said as they sat on the couch listening to Mike play absently. Micky had gone back out to swim since he was still waring his swimsuit, and there was still plenty of daylight left. The music, though light and barely audible, drifted through the air for quite a while. Peter tried to pinpoint what Mike was playing, but his mind seemed to be a blank. Suddenly, everything in the room began to fade, the color's washed out and everything went blurry, until it turned into complete darkness! Everything was gone! Mike. Tommy. The Pad. Everything! And the cold struck him once again. He couldn't hardly move at all, and he could here the faint echo of a female voice talking to him. "You shouldn't have gotten involved." Over and over in his head he could hear it. "No! NO! Go away!!" He cried. It continued to grow louder, almost like it was tearing at him from all side's. It was so loud, echoing off of everything. He screamed-- Tommy cried out in fear at the sound of Peter's scream, and realized that they had both fallen asleep on the couch, and Mike had left. "Peter!? Peter!!" She yelled over his scream, shaking his shoulder's until he opened his eye's and stopped screaming. "Oh God, Tommy...." Peter sobbed as she wrapped her arm's around him. "It was there again. All the darkness, and that voice.....It was so familiar. I hate it!" He said. "I know, I know...." Tommy said. It felt strange to be on the recieving end of someone's helpless cry, and now she had a slight idea of how Micky or the other's must feel. But she understoud Peter's problem's completely, and she was familiar with the voice, only the one she heard was a man's, not a women's. "Oh Peter, when will this all end?" Tommy asked, knowing that he couldn't answer that question. "I don't know, Tommy. I just don't know." PART SEVENTEEN: SHARK! "Hey guy's wanna come swimmin' with us?" Mike asked, standing in the verendah doorway in his swimming trunk's. Peter, Tommy, and Davy sat at the kitchen table playing card's. "Go fish." Davy said, and Peter picked up a card from the pile. "Sure, we'll be right out." Davy said then, turning to Mike. "Ok, but ya better hurry up. Jackie's headin' this way, and she's got'er swimsuit on." Mike said, heading back out the door way. Davy slapped his card's down on the table and jumped from his seat. "I'm going t'change." He said as he leapt up the stair's and into the bedroom. "Oh well, so much for that game." Tommy said as she and Peter both lay their card's down on the table. "I'm gonna go change, I'll meet you guy's out there." Peter said, heading for the bedroom. Tommy turned around to face the counter and reached out for her sunglasses, only to find that they weren't there. "Wha...I could've sworn I left them right there-" She looked around the kitchen, but no sunglasses could be found. Maybe I left them on the couch, she thought as she walked into the living room. She looked around but still, she couldn't find them. "That's funny....." She thought aloud. "What's funny?" Davy asked, bounding down the stair's and into the living room. "I can't find my sunglasses." Tommy explained. "Hm, w'eah'd ya leave'em last?" Davy asked, the smallest of smiles begining to quirk the edges of his mouth, Tommy didn't notice. "In the kitchen, but I checked there and couldn't find them." She said, lifting a pillow and looking beneath it. "Well, um.....Ahem, that is, a'ah you su'eh you didn't leave th'm anywh'eah else?" He asked, covering his mouth with one hand to hide his growing smile. "No, I'm pretty sure I didn't-" She looked up at Davy and stopped talking, eyeing him curiously. "What's so funny?" She asked. "Well, um...." Davy's smile had turned into a full fledge grin now as he reached up near Tommy's head. She ducked slightly, looking up as if to see what he was doing. He lifted the dark pair of sunglasses from their resting place on top of her head and held them out to her. Tommy's faced flushed a deep red and she touk them from him, realizing what a dope she must seem like. "Don't feel bad," He said as she slipped the sunglasses back over her eye's. "That's not the first place I'd 'ave looked i'theh." And with that, he touk her hand and they walked out the verendah door tword's the beach. "SHARK!!" Peter screamed as Micky swam under the water tword the group with his hand's forming a fin over his head. "SWIM AWAY!" Davy chimed in as he, Peter, Mike, and Tommy swam away frantically as Micky got closer. Jackie sat nearby watching the activities from a comfortable spot on the sand. Micky came up once for air, casting them all an evil, hungry look, as if he really were a shark, then dove back under to continue the persuit. "Tommy, look out!" Mike yelled. Tommy turned just in time to see a shadow in the water swimming up to her! She screamed excitedly and tried to swim away, but Micky grabbed her ankle and pulled her back. "BWAHAHAHA! You shall never get away!" Micky chorused in a deep, theatrical voice as he held onto her, preventing any mean's of escape. Tommy yelled for help as she held her sunglasses in place. "AH HAH! But you forget, the hero alway's save's the damsel in destress!" Peter added his acting skill's to the plot, and Tommy lauphed. "Never fear, m'lady! I shall save you!" He continued, lunging out tword Micky, and he bagen to tickle him! Micky starting laughing almost as if he were in pain and released Tommy, practically forgetting she was there. As soon as Micky was presumed helpless, Peter dove under the water and caught Tommy around the waist, lifting her out of the water. "Are you hurt, m'lady?" He asked ever so politely. "Nope." Tommy giggled, holding onto Peter like a life preserver. "Not so fast there, cowboy!" Micky said after he had regained himself. He crouched down in the water so that only part of his face was showing and cast evil eye's apon them. But just before he had a chance to rocket tword them, Mike grabbed him from behind. "Gotcha!" He yelled, wrestling with Micky in the water. "You two make a run for it!" He instructed. Peter set Tommy back down in the water and they touk off in the other direction. "A'ah you su'eh you don't want t'swim with us?" Davy asked, sitting down next to Jackie on her beach towel. "No, that's ok. You guy's look like you're having enough fun already." Jackie laughed slightly as she watched the scene within the water. "Aw, c'mon, luv? We could use anotheh girl out the'eh." He said, casting her his most charming smile. For a moment, it seemed to be working as Jackie looked as though she were pondering the thought, but then she shook her head and smiled. "Nah, you go on in and play." She said. Davy blew out air from his cheek's frustratingly. "Oll right, you asked fo'it." He said as he stoud up. Before Jackie could even react, Davy put both arm's under her and picked her up off of the sand. "Davy!" She shreiked as he carried her off into the water. "Eye, fella's! I got anotheh one!" He yelled over the rucus of Mike and Micky battling and Peter and Tommy trying to stay out of the way or sneak in tickles in Micky's case to give Mike the upper hand. "Hey great!" Micky said when they had noticed Davy carrying Jackie into the water. "Ok, who want's to be the shark next?" Mike asked. "Jackie does!" Micky said, bounding over to them and pushing them deeper into the water whare the rest of the group was. "No, really, I'm not that good at playing water games-" "Oh, sure ya'are. There's nothin' t'be good at, it's just normal fun stuff." Mike said. "Well, alright. But only ounce." "Alright!" Micky yelled excitedly. "SHAH'K!" Davy cried and dove into the water, along with everyone else. Jackie soon got into the game, she had to if she wanted to catch anybody. The first person she went after was Davy, and she almost got him if he wouldn't have gone so darn fast. Then she tried to catch Tommy, but with Peter's help, she got away. In the end, Micky was the one who got caught. "I let her catch me." Micky insisted as they crowded together in the water again. "Yeah right, Mick. You couldn't outswim a blowfish." Peter got a major tackle from Micky in response to that crack. "Well, guy's, ya think we should call it a day. We still hafta practice for that gig tonight, remember?" Mike said as he headed back tword the beach. "Yeah, I guess so. Say, who's up for another game tomorrow?" Micky asked, bounding through the water. "Sound's good t'me! Wo'about you, luv? You comin' tomorrow?" Davy asked as he slipped his arm around Jackie's waist and they walked up onto the beach. "Sure, I guess so." She said. Peter straightened his sunglasses and started out of the water just behind Tommy, but then he smiled as he got an idea. Tommy felt someone grab her on either side of her waist and she was lifted high up out of the water! Peter lifted her over his head with ease and plopped her down on his shoulder's. "Peter!" She cried, holding onto his hand's for dear life. "You apear exausted, m'lady. You need not walk the long distance to thine palace." Peter said. "If you drop me-" "Drop you!! Why madam, you have my word that if you fall...uh......I'll pay for the Band Aid's." Peter said the last part with a slight giggle and they started up the veredah step's, the other's had already gotten in the house and Jackie was walking in the other direction across the beach. "Band Aid's, huh?" Tommy teased. "You're the one who's gonna need them if you drop me." Davy's voice rang out across the dance floor as "Valleri" was performed. Tommy sat backstage as usual, watching with a growing smile at every song they played. "Hello, there." Tommy jumped and whirled around at the sound of a deep, male voice. There stoud a young man, maybe in his late twenties, smiling at her. She didn't smile back, didn't say a word as he came to stand next to her chair, watching The Monkees play their music with a small grin. "Their very good, aren't they?" He commented. "Yes." Tommy replied in a small voice, feeling her stomach tighten into dangerous knot's at the mere presence of this stranger. "The tall one's your father, right?" He asked, peering down at her. She simply nodded, not bothering to ask how he knew that. She figured that he heard it from the guy who let them in. "You must be proud, he's a good voice, he is." The man continued, looking back at the group as they launched into "She". A long moment passed as they went through the song, then started into "Circle Sky". "What about you?" The man spoke up suddenly, looking down at Tommy again. "You got any music talent in ya?" Tommy thought about this question for a moment, she had never considered doing anything in the subject of music, or that maybe she had musical talent's, either. "Don't know". She answered simply, not looking up at him. "Hm." Was all he said in response as he turned and walked away in the other direction. "Oh, by the way-" He said, turning back around. She turned in her chair to face him, waiting for him to continue so that he would leave. "What's your name?" An icy hand gripped Tommy's spine, and she felt a cloudy, dark memory building behind her eye's. Her throught closed up in a threatening deathgrip and she gripped the top of the chair back with sweating palm's. The man looked at her, as if wondering what was wrong. But Tommy saw a tiny hint in the depth's of his eye's that he already knew. He didn't say anything alse, only shrugged dismisively and walked away. Tommy couldn't even keep her thought's straight as so many of them whirled around in her head. "Tommy?" Micky rushed to her side, followed closely by Davy, and knelt by her side, putting his hand on her shoulder and trying to get her attention. Peter had gone to the bathroom as soon as he was able, and had asked Mike to go with him because he didn't like being alone anywhare but at home. Tommy sat pale faced, her eye's unfocused in complete terror. "Eye, Tommy? What's e'mattah?" Davy asked, kneeling down in front of her. He waved a hand in front of her face, and she jumped, startled, and fell off of the chair, landing with a light thump on the floor. But as soon as she realized whare she was, she jumped into Micky's arm's, clinging to him with all her strength. "What's wrong, honey?" He asked, holding her close. "It was him! He was here!!" She almost shouted, her eye's wide with fear. "Sssshhhhhh, Who was here?" Micky asked. "The voice......That voice I keep hearing over and over in my head.......he was here, talking to me.....asking me that question again......" Tommy kept glancing around with nervous, wide eye's. She had gasped slightly when the corner of her eye caught sight of Davy, but quickly dissapated when she realized who it was. It didn't ease her paranoia, though. "You we'h probably just daydreaming, sweethah't." Davy cooed, stroking her hair gently, trying to calm her down. "No! He was here!! I saw him!!" She insisted. "Hey, what's goin' on?" Mike asked, walking up to them with a slightly worried expression. Peter wasn't far behind him, and when he saw Tommy, he almost freaked himself. "Tommy!? Tommy, what's wrong!?" He asked, falling to the floor behind Micky and reaching up to touch her ckeek gently. She didn't respond, only clutched Micky tighter, and he could almost hear the bones snapping. "She say's she hea'd that voice again-" "I SAW him!!" Tommy cried. "My mistake, she saw the guy she claim's she keep's hea'in in'eh dream's." Davy explained. "Whadda ya mean "Saw Him?" Mike asked, puzzled, as he squatted down next to Peter to take a look at her. "I think mayb we should leave now." Micky sugested. "I think you're right. Davy, you and Peter go collect the pay and we'll get Tommy to the car." "Ok. C'mon, Petah." Davy said, standing. "Are you guy's sure you don't want me to help?" Peter asked as he reluctantly began to stand up straight. "Yes, we're sure. Go on." Mike said, helping Micky up off with floor, who had shifted Tommy around so that he could carry her out to the car. Before Peter could protest in any way, Davy grabbed his arm and forced him to follow. PART EIGHTEEN: IT'S THE FUNNIEST THING........ Peter felt the spring's on his bed push downward, and he slowly began to awaken. A moment after the movement had stopped, Peter was awake enough to realize that someone was now curled up next to him. He peered through sleepy eye's over at the next bed, which was empty. It dawned on him that Tommy had stepped right over Davy, who was laying on the floor in-between the two bed's, and crawled into his bed. "Tommy, what are you doing?" He whispered so as to not wake Davy. "I'm scared." She murmered. "You could have said something." He said. "I didn't want to wake up Davy." She replied. "So you woke up me instead?" Peter joked, trying to keep his voice as quiet as possible. "Oh! I'm sorry, Peter-" Tommy began as she started climbing off the bed. "No no! It's ok, I don't mind." Peter said, taking her softly by the arm and pulling her back onto the bed. "Are you sure?" She asked. "Yeah, I'm sure." Peter said, shifting back to give her more room. If she was scared, than he would be more than happy to let her sleep in his bed if it helped calm her fear's. Tommy hesitantly crawled in next to him and curled up again, much like Davy usually did, and Peter pulled the blanket's up to her shoulder. There was a short moment of silence as he smoothed her hair out lightly. "Tommy, what did you mean when you said you saw him......ya know, the voice? I mean, did you actually see the guy?" He asked. "Yes. He came over and talked to me." She replied, curling up a little more. "What did he say?" "He just commented on you guy's, and said you were good," Peter could feel the slight smile deep inside, but didn't let it show, wether she was in a position whare she could see it or not. "And he said I ought to be proud to have a father like Mike." She continued. "What else?" He asked. "Well.....he asked if I had any music talent's, I told him I didn't know." She replied. "Than I guess our next practice would be a good time to find out!" Peter whispered excitedly. "Maybe." Tommy replied with a slight laugh. "Then what happened?" Peter said then. "Then he was going to leave, but before he did, he asked me that question." Tommy shuddered slightly at the mere memory. "Oh, and that's when you knew?" Peter said, knowing exactly what question she was talking about. "Yeah. But it was so scary, now I can't shut my eye's without feeling like I'm back there....with all those voices...." Tommy said, curling up a little more. "Yeah, I know what you mean." He said, smothing his hand up and down half the length of her arm in a comforting gesture. "That Jackie girl give's me the willies." He continued. "Peter, what are we gonna do? It can't continue like this." Tommy said, a small, hardly noticable tear apearing from behind her eye, which Peter couldn't see. "Don't worry, sweetheart. It'll end soon, you'll see. We'll get through this, trust me." Peter said with slightly more confidence than he felt. "I do trust you, Peter." Tommy said. Now that is the cutest......Davy thought, sitting on the floor in the midst of his shambled bed, his hair rumpled from sleep, a grin on his face. Peter and Tommy both lay in Peter's bed, fast asleep. Peter had one hand resting on Tommy's shoulder, and Tommy was clutching her penguin, as usual. Davy climbed out of his bed as quietly as possible, tiptoed over to the door, removed the soda bottle resting on teh doorknob, and slipped out of the room, not bothering to get drest for fear of waking them. He still couldn't help but think how cute they looked like that as he walked into the kitchen to make coffee, one of the few thing's he could make well. As he put the coffee pot on the stove, he heard a large thump. "Hiya, pal!" Micky sang out, stroling into the kitchen with a smile on his face. "Quiet, man! Petah'n Tommy a'ah still sleeping!" Davy hissed. "Oh, sorry." Micky said without a single remorsfull tone in his voice as he tiptoed over to the room and peeked through the door. For a moment, he didn't say anything, but after he closed the door, he started back to the kitchen, still smiling. "Aaaaaawwwhhh, isn't that cute!" He exclaimed in the cheesiest voice he could muster. "Oh, hey! I got an idea!" Davy pipped up, leaving the coffee preperation's and heading tword's the stair's. "Can you finish that fo'me?" He asked, leaping up the stair's. He was out of sight before Micky could argue, so he walked over to the counter and got out the coffee can and two mug's. The water had begun to boil, to he turned the burner off and poured it into the mug's carefully, making sure not to burn himself. Davy came back down the stair's then with somthing in his hand, but didn't bother saying anything to Micky as he crossed over to the room and cracked the door open about a foot. Micky watched as Davy pulled a small, black box out of a brown leather bag and toss the bag aside. Oh no, Micky thought with a slight frown at Davy's stupid idea. He was going to take a picture. Sure enough, Davy held the camera up to his face and leveled it out. With a slight press to the button, a small flash erupted and the picture wat taken. Davy quickly and quietly shut the door and walked back into the kitchen, setting the camera and the bag on the counter, grinning. Micky only rolled his eye's and turned back to what he was doing. "Whare'd you get that camera?" He asked. "Oh, I've 'ad that thing fo'ages. I got it fo'me seventeenth be'thday." Davy replied, opening the cabinet door and pulling out a box of cereal. It was pretty obvious that Peter wouldn't be making breakfast this morning, partly because he was still asleep, and partly because that scene was too cute to interrupt. "How come you don't use it?" Micky asked, handing a cup of coffee to Davy, who was on his way to the table with the cereal, a bowl, and a spoon. "I do, you just nevah notice, I guess. Mike notices, he olway's get's outta the way when I'm about t'shoot a pict'eh." Davy said, walking back to the refrigerator for the milk as Micky sat down with his bowl, spoon, and coffee. "Speaking of Mike, is he up yet?" Micky asked when Davy returned to the table with the milk. "He wasn't when I went up the'eh." Davy replied, pouring his cereal. "Hm. Is Jackie comin' over t'swim today?" Micky asked. "Yes." Davy asked as he passed the box to Micky and poured his milk, a small hint of anoyence in his voice. "Did Peter or Tommy have any nighmere's last night?" Micky asked, pouring his cereal. "Stop asking me every question that come's to y'head, will ya!? It's drivin me crackeh's!" Davy exclaimed before shoving a spoonfull on cereal into his mouth. Micky snickered, making it obvious that he had acomplished his goal of ticking Davy off for that morning. Considering that Peter and Tommy were still asleep, and wether Mike was asleep or not, he was not one to be messed with in the morning, except to be woken up, which was a job that Micky would take full advantage of if Mike weren't up by the time he was done eating. "To back up a subject, you should take more picture's with that thing." Micky continued through a mouthful of cereal. "The film's too expensive, so I can't take many pict'eh's." Davy said. "Too bad. (Pause) Say, you could just take lot's a'pictures and get'em developed when you get the money!" Micky exclaimed before taking a huge swallow of coffee. Davy seemed thoughtful about that as he ate, it wasn't a bad idea. Picture's would be nice thing's to have around in the future. "Eye, Petah." Davy greeted, plopping down next to Peter on the couch whare he sat reading a magazine later on that morning. "Hi, Davy." Peter replied. Jackie hadn't arrived to go swimming yet, and the group had spent part of the morning taking pictures of a few memorable thing's around the Pad and the beach. "Ya sleep well last night?" Davy asked, a certain light in his eye's. Peter side-glanced at Peter mischiviously before turning back to his reading. "Fine." He replied. "You should know." He then muttered. Davy expression shifted to that of surprise, but he quickly covered it. "Wotevah a'you to'king about?" He asked, trying to sound honest. It didn't work. "You don't think I could've been awake when you touk that picture?" Peter stated more as a fact than as a question, and now there was no use to playing dumb. "You were awake?" He asked. "Mm hm." Peter replied, not turning from the magazine. "Than why didn't you say anything?" Davy asked. "The same reason I didn't get up and drest when I woke up, I didn't wan't to wake Tommy. Plus, you and Micky seemed to amused with the whole thing that it was funny to watch you guy's sneak peek's through the door, I could hardly keep a straight face." Peter admitted, grinning slightly at the memory. "Why did you take a picture anyway?" He asked then, turning to Davy with a quizzical look. "It was just an idea that popped up outta no-whe'eh. You guy's looked so cute I thought it'd be nice to let otheh people see it, too." Davy answered. Peter's eye's went wide and his jaw dropped. "You wouldn't dare!" He exclaimed. Davy laughed and got up from the couch, walking out of the living room to leave Peter with his thought's. "Davy!" He shouted over the couch, but Davy was already gone out the front door. Great, Peter thought, tossing his magazine to the floor, now I don't even know if he's bluffing or telling the truth. But Davy wouldn't do that, would he? Of course not. Tork, you're just letting yourself get messed with, Peter chided himself merrily. Beside's, it's not that big of a deal. Tommy needed a friend, and he was there to provide comfort for her, that's all. Davy's just being himself, Peter thought with a snort. "Hey, Pete?" Micky said, entering the Pad from the verendah, followed by Mike and Tommy. "Oh, hi guy's." Peter said, smiling in a warm greeting. "Tommy clashed another one of those question's again." Mike said, plopping down on the other end of the couch. "What was it?" Peter said, sounding eager to hear. "Explain it again, Tom." Micky said, taking a seat on the chaise lounge. "Ok, how can you physically stand behind someone when their standing behind you?" Tommy explained, taking her sun glasses off and placing them on the coffee table. Peter leaned his elbow's on his knees and rubbed the bridge of his nose in thought. "Gosh, I don't know." He half-laughed after a moment. "Couldn't ya just tell us?" Mike asked. "Nope." Tommy said, grinning. "Aw, c'mon!" Micky whined. Tommy shook her head, she wasn't to be defeated that easily. But neither was Micky! He jumped from his spot and fell to the floor, wrapping his arm's around her leg's. "Pleeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaassse!!" He begged. It wasn't so much the fact that he wanted to know, but the fact that she wasn't telling him. "No! You have'ta figure it out for yourself!" Tommy laughed, trying to get out of Micky's grasp, and nearly falling over in the proccess. "Pleeeaaase! Please! Please! Please! Please! Pleeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaase!!!" Micky continued, but Tommy just shook her head again. Mike jumped from the couch and swiped Tommy's hat off of her head. "Hey! Gimme that!" She said, grabbing for her hat, which caused her to stumble in Micky grasp and fall to the floor. "Nope. Not until you tell us." Mike said, grinning as he skipped around behind the couch and out of reach of anybody. Tommy decided to take advantage of the fact that she was on Micky's level and reached over tword him with both hand's, tickeling him on his back just below his shoulder's. Micky screamed and retracted his arm's, coiling back protectively from her deadly tickles. Now free, Tommy leapt to her feet and sprinted around the couch to whare Mike was. "Micky!" Mike yelled, tossing the hat over the couch to whare Micky sat on the floor, recovering from Tommy's attack. The hat landed near him on the floor, and he snatched it up, jumping to his feet. Tommy rounded the couch and made a lunge for the hat, which Micky held safely high above his head. "Micky, over here!" Yelled Peter, who was already near the bandstand, ready to catch the hat, which Micky through just as Tommy tried to jump and grab it. Peter cought it and emediately made an under-hand toss to Mike. "He'eh, now! Wot's oll this!" Came a familiar, English accent. Davy snatched the hat right out of Mike's hand in the moment of surprise. "You fella's ought t'be ashamed uv y'selves." He scolded, walking over to Tommy. "Picking on poor, innocent little Tommy." He said, putting an arm around her shoulder's and patting her on the head, which made her cheek's flush slightly. "I've got a right mind t'pop the whole lot'a'ya." He continued, glaring at each of them, but even though he was only pretending like he was upset, and enjoying himself emensely, Mike would have none of this. "Oh yeah? I'd like to see you try." He said, rounding the couch to be fully seen, standing up straight to prove his already-won-victory in height. "Oh you would, would you?" Davy challenged, stepping up to Mike and drawing himself up to his full height of 5'3. The difference between them was so obvious that Micky had to put both hand's over his face to keep from laughing. Peter put one hand to his mouth, giggling. Tommy giggles outright, although she tried not to, and Davy turned around to look at her. "Wot a'you laughing at, sho't stuff?" He said, noting that Tommy was only about two centimeter's shorter than he was, which pleased him none the less. "I GOT IT!" Micky yelled suddenly, which made everyone jump. Micky rushed over to Davy and Mike and positioned them to stand back-to-back against each other. "There! That's the answere!" He cheered, smiling with sheer joy at having figured it out. "Yep, that's it." Tommy said. "That's wot?" Davy asked, completely baffled. "Oh, I get it!" Peter chimed happily. "Get wot?" Davy asked again, but his question fell apon deaf ear's. "Yeah, I'm standin' behind Davy, and he's standin' behind me!" Mike added, smiling dispite himself. "Well done, Sherlock." Davy mumbled, completely unaware of what everyone was talking about. "I got it! I got it!!" Tommy anounced, stretching out her arm's to the in-coming frizbee that sailed in the breeze tword her. "Farther back! farther back!!" Peter instructed from a distance away on the beach. Tommy was now in a position whare she was running backward's. She made a jump for the frizbee, but it sailed through her arm's and right past her head, and she fell backward's onto the sand. Peter cringed at this. "You okay?" He called. "Yeah, I'm alright." Tommy called back, dissapointment displaying itself clearly in her voice. She stoud and brushed the sand off of the blue t-shirt of Davy's and the grey skirt of her own, straightened her sunglasses, picked up her hat, and placed it back on her head. Then she snatched up the frizbee and jogged over to whare Peter was. "That was good." Peter said, trying to cheer her up in any way possible. "Sure it was, considering I didn't even catch the stupid thing." Tommy said, hading the frizbee to Peter. "Aw, it wasn't that bad. You just need to practice a little more, then you'll get the hang of it." Peter said, reasuringly. "Yeah, I guess." Tommy shrugged. "You guy's sure you don't wanna swim?" Mike called from whare he, Micky, Davy, and Jackie were playing in the water. Micky was hot on Jackie's tail, with Davy swimming after Micky and trying to save her. "Yeah, we're sure-" "Charlie! Over here!" Peter's reply was cut off abruptly when Jackie called out to someone on the beach. Peter and Tommy both turned to see a young man walking over tword the other's, smiling. He began to talk back and fourth to the group, but Peter's attention was drawn from listening when a trambeling hand cought his in a tight grip. He turned to see a pale-faced Tommy staring point blank at the man. "That's him." She almost whispered, and Peter knew by the look on her face that this was no joke. He had to get her out of there and some whare they could talk, alone. "You wanna go for a walk?" He asked. She nodded, and he gave her hand a light squeeze as he tossed the frizbee carelessly onto the sand and they started down the beach. Peter and Tommy walked hand-in-hand in silence for a long while as the group in the water drifted into the distance. It wasn't until about a half a mile down the beach that they decided to stop before they got lost. Tommy touk a seat on the soft sand and leaned back on her hand's, crossing her leg's at the ankle in front of her. "You sure that was him?" Peter asked, picking up a small stone and hurling it far off into the ocean. "Positive. Just that voice was enough to set off the alarm." Tommy replied. "Hm." Peter said, throwing another rock, he didn't know what else TO say. It had been made clear that they didn't know what to do. Telling anybody would mean hurting Davy's feeling's, and there was no doubt that the love-struck Englishmen wouldn't believe that about Jackie. Maybe about the other guy, but not Jackie. I could tell the other's though, Peter thought as he continued to throw rock's pointlessly, but Micky might blab something accidently.....Mike! Of course! You dummy, Peter scolded himself, why didn't I think of this before! Mike would believe him in a situation like this, especially if it involved his "daughter", Tommy Nesmith. Peter grinned at that thought. Tommy Nesmith. It wasn't too far fetched, was it? "What'er you thinkin' about?" Tommy's innocent question brought Peter back to reality and he glanced over his shoulder at her, smiling. "Oh, nothing. Just the thought of your last name being Nesmith." He chided, bending down to pick up a smooth, brown and white shell. "Yeah, it does sound kinda weird, doesn't it. But I guess it should, since it's not my real name and all." Tommy said, reaching up with one hand to straighten her hat. "Why did Mike jump in and pose as my dad anyway?" "I dunno. He was probably just trying to come up with any reason for you to stay back stage with us." Peter quipped, tossing the shell to her, which she caught. She rubbed her thumb against the surface, enjoying how pretty it was, then she smirked at a thought. "Anyone could have offered at any time though, just think of what would have happened if Davy had said that!" Tommy said, laughing slightly. Peter laughed outright, pushing his sunglasses up, which had begun to slide down the bridge of his nose. "Oh, you're definately not a Jones, that's for sure!" He exclaimed. "Eye! It wouldn't be oll thet difficult, an English accent kinda grow's on ya aftah a while." Tommy stated proudly, mimicking Davy's accent prefectly. "Holy cow!" Peter laughed. "Tommy Jones! 'Course you don't sound like Mike, either." He said, his laughter dying a little. "That ain't all that hard t'do. It all depend's on how well yer list'nin, don't it?" Now it was Mike accent displaying itself in her voice, and Peter laughed again, plopping down next to her, cross-legged on the sand. "It's a bloody shame y'ahn't related t'eithah of'em, you'd fit right in!" Peter chimed, his own personally perfected English accent clear, and this time it was Tommy's turn to laugh. "Oh, Peter!" She laughed, pulling off her hat, laying back on the soft sand and gazing up at the clear sky. Peter chuckled softly dispite himself and carelessly tossed another stone into the shallow part of the water, whare it dissapeared under a wave. There was a silence. "Do you believe in God?" Tommy asked after a while, still laying on the sand with her hand's folded neatly over her stomach, still clutching the shell. "What?" Peter asked, surprised by the question, laying down next to her. "Do you believe in God?" Tommy asked again. "Well, I'm not sure." Peter said, and it was true, he wasn't sure. He had never really thought about it before. "Why do you ask?" "Well, I was thinking about how all this got started. I mean, I've been with you guy's for a little over a month-" "Two month's." Peter corrected. "Right, two month's, and still don't know how I got here. And then I got to thinking about how people in general got here, and it seem's only right that there's a God somewhare out there that created us all." There was a slight pause as Peter thought about this fact. "I mean, think about it. People all over the world are saying that human's evolved from the mud or from monkey's or something, right?" Tommy continued. "Yeah." Peter said. "Well, how can that be true? There's no physically possible way that people could have evolved from mud, it's just not possible. And monkey's are animal's, plus their still around, so that couldn't be the answere either. So the only logical explination would be God." Tommy finished. "Hm. You've got a point. I dunno, I never really thought about it before. I guess I believe in God. (pause) Come to think of it, I thank God sometime's for thing's, and never really noticed I was." Peter said, then he smiled, remembering something. "My mom used to say prayers with me when I was a kid." He stated matter-of-factually. "I wish I could say the same." Tommy said in a low voice, and Peter realized he had just hit a touchy subject. "I wish I could remember whare I came from." "What about those nightmere's?" Peter asked. "What about them, you have them too." Tommy said. "No, no. I mean the one's you use to have before that." "Oh, I don't really remember much of those. It was just a big blurr of thing's I couldn't make out. Mostly blue." Tommy explained. "Blue?" "Yeah, it was a big blurr of blue and faint color's, and there was alway's someone talking, or more than one, I'm not sure." It was clear now to Peter that this wasn't something Tommy wanted to talk about, so he decided to change the subject, for now. "Well, Tommy Nesmith. You wanna head back now, it's gonna get dark soon, and the guy's will probably be worried." Peter said, slowly getting to his feet. "Yeah, I guess we should." Tommy said, grasping the hand Peter had offered and allowing him to pull her to her feet. They dusted off their clothes and Tommy placed the hat, not on her head, but on Peter's instead, who smiled and touk her by the hand as they began to walk back tword the Pad. PART NINETEEN: PETER PEACE AND FLOWER'S It was dark by the time Peter set foot on the first step that led to the verendah, and Tommy released his hand, not following. He turned a confused expression on her. "Aren't you coming up?" He asked. "Nah, I'm gonna sit out here for a while and , ya know, just think. You're welcome to join me if you want." She replied. "Sure, that would be nice. I just have to go in for a minute and use the john...erm....comfort room. I'll be back out in a minute." Peter said, taking the step's two at a time and walking into the Pad, leaving the door half open behind him. Tommy turned and walked a few step's out tword the ocean, then she sat cross-legged on the sand, leaning back on her hand's again. She let out a long, contented sigh that drifted away with the light breez in the silence of the night, with the ecception of the softly crashing waves. "Hey, Peter. Whare's Tommy?" Micky asked from behind his drum set. "Outside." Peter replied, heading straight for the downstair's bathroom. Mike lay on the couch with his hand's folded neatly on his chest, his hat tipped foreward over his eye's. "Alone?" Mike asked, pushing his hat up, but Peter had already shut the bathroom door. As Mike sat up, he and Micky exchanged puzzled glances. Micky stoud from his drum's and faced the big verendah window that overlooked the beach, whare he could see Tommy sitting on the sand, deep in thought. It was a reasuring feeling to know that she felt more confident being alone now, he thought. "What's she doin'?" Mike asked curiosly. "Just sitting." Micky said, returning to his drum's. Peter walked out of the bathroom then and looked around the Pad. "Whare's Davy?" He asked. "He and Jackie went for a walk after Charlie went home. You met Charlie, right?" Mike asked, standing and stretching out his arm's. "Uhh, yeah. Say Mike....erm....could I talk t'you....um, alone?" Peter stuttered, shifting uncomfortably. He didn't want to hurt Micky's feeling's but he had to talk to Mike in private. To his surprise, though, Micky stoud from his drum's and bounded up the stair's. "I know my cue when I hear it!" He laughed. "Why don't you go sit with Tommy, Mick?" Mike sugested. "Na, I think she's enjoying being alone. I wanna let her get more used to it." Micky said, closing the bedroom door behind him. Mike turned to Peter then, ready to listen. "Just you and me now, buddy." He said, motioning for Peter to take a seat on the couch with him. They both sat, and Peter rubbed his hand's nervously. "Mike, there's something I have to tell you, but Davy can't know, and Micky can't know 'cause he'd spill it t'Davy." Peter explained. "Go on." Mike said. "Well, you know that guy, Charlie? Well, Tommy said that he was the same guy from the gig the day before yesterday." Peter said, and Mike looked slightly caught off guard by this. "She did? You mean with the voice?" He asked. "Yeah, that's him. That's why we went for a walk, 'cause I knew she had to get outta there or she might freak out." Peter continued. "How come you don't wanna tell Davy?" Mike asked, confused. Peter looked down at his feet ashemed. "Well, ya know Jackie.......And the voice I heard.....and......." Peter trailed off, but Mike already knew. "Peter, how can you be sure-" "I'm sure, Mike! It's her, I know it is!" Peter cried, tear's welling up in his eye's. "Her voice, everytime she talk's I get that cold, sick feeling, almost as if I'm back there, in that place...I know it's her, Mike! I just know it!! But if Davy ever knew-" "Evah knew wot?" Peter gasped and slapped one hand over his mouth at the sound of Davy's voice. He and Mike both turned to see Davy standing in the doorway, a puzzled look on his face. But that look soon turned to worry when he saw Peter's current state. "Wot's e'mattah, Petah?" He asked, walking over to the couch. "Um, Davy, why don't you si'down." Mike offered, and Davy sat confused next to Mike on the couch. "You see, Davy....um....Well, Peter was just tellin' me...." Mike glanced briefly at Peter, who was pleading with his eye's for Mike not to say anything. But dispite Peter's plead's, Mike knew that it would be the best thing to do, no matter how much it would hurt. "Well, y'know how Tommy and him keep havin' dream's remembering the accident." Mike said more as a fact than as a question. Davy nodded anyway, and Mike hesitated and looked over at Peter, who shook his head in short, violent shakes. Mike sighed and turned back to Davy, who frowned. "And y'know how Peter kept hearin' a girl and Tommy kept hearin' a guy..........and you know Jackie and Charlie........" Mike trailed off at the sight of Davy's expression. Davy knew exactly what he was getting at. And he didn't believe it. Davy's frown deepend and he shook his head slowly, his back stiffening. "Davy, please-" Mike persisted, but Davy jumped from the couch in anger. "NO!" He scowled. "You con't go around making accusation's like that, it's not fai'h." He insisted. Peter knew this would happen, and he buried his face in his hand's, sobbing. Davy turned a disgusted look on him. "How would you know, anyway!? You couldn't remembah something like that!" He said, pointing an accusitory finger at Peter. "Leave him alone, Davy! You have no right!" Mike said sternly, standing. "Bloody heck, I don't, if he's gonna blame my girlfriend and'eh brothah fo'is own problem's!" Davy yelled. "Hey, what's goin' on?" Micky asked, leaning over the balcony with a slightly worried expression. "What's wrong with Peter?" "Ev're'thing's wrong with'im, that's wot! Stupid dummy!" Davy shouted. "Davy!" Micky yelled, stuned that Davy would say something so cruel, especially to Peter. BAM! Davy stumbled back, both hand's flying to his face. "Now shut the heck up!" Mike yelled, his face flushed red with anger. Davy removed his hand's, and his finger's were covered with blood, as was all under his nose. "Mike!" Micky shouted, leaping down the stair's. "What is going on!?" He demanded, but suddenly there was a distant scream from outside! Peter jerked up, pale faced. "Tommy!!" He yelled as they all rushed out the door, their own problem's forgotten. Micky was the first to hit the sand, Tommy was gone! He touk off in the direction of the scream, followed closely by the other's. He could see something in the water in the distance. It was.....Charlie! And someone else...........No....It couldn't be.....Someone was struggling in the water......Tommy!! Oh God!! "Tommy!!" Micky screamed. Whoever all was there heard him and was making a break for it, but they didn't get far from the water. Micky emmediately tackled the first one he got to, knocking him to the ground. There was only a few of them, and Mike ran up to anotehr guy, punching him out like a light. Davy grabbed another one, but this one wasn't a man...... "JACKIE!!" Davy exclaimed, wide eye'd. Jackie wrenched free from his grasp and pushed him to the sand. At that instant, she pulled out a small, black object and pointed it directly at him! Davy could hardly regester the even't playing out before him. Peter had been right! "Don't even move." She ordered, and he didn't argue. "Why a'you doing this?" He asked, giving her his best stern glare. "That's none of your concern." She said, then she shifted, training her gun on Mike, who, while resteling with another guy, didn't notice. "MIKE, LOOK OUT!!" Davy shouted. Jackie pulled the gun around and pointed at him again. Her finger pressed down on the triger- There was a sharp blow to her hand and the gun went flying. Peter shoved past her and leapt headlong over the sand, hand's outstretched, grabbing the gun. He hit the sand and was quickly back on his feet. He pointed the gun straight at Jackie, who froze in the middle of her attempt to stand. Mike had successfully knocked out his guy, and froze when he saw his friend, Peter "Peace and Flowers", with a gun in his hand! Micky, who had beat his guy (Charlie), saw this as well. "Whare's Tommy!?" He demanded, trying to hide the fear in his eye's. He was actually holding a gun! "She's dead!" Jackie shouted angrily. Peter's eye's narrowed with fury. She was lying. "She is not!" He yelled. "Take a look for yourself!!" Jackie shot back, pointing at the water. Peter hesitantly turned his eye's onto the water, and his face drained of all color. He emmediately dropped the gun onto the sand and leapt into the water, swimming tword the Tommy's liveless body! "He grabbed onto her and turned her head up to face him. "Tommy!? Tommy!! Oh God, Tommy!!" He pleaded, trying desperately to wake her up. Jackie stoud and attempted to make a mad dash for the gun, but fell to the sand again when Davy grabbed her leg, pulling her down fiercly. "I don't think so!" Mike said, grabbing the gun. Micky was already in the water and at Peter's side. Siren's could be heard in the distance. The police. Someone attacked Mike from behind suddenly, and he threw the gun out into the water right before he stumbled, getting out of everybody's reach. Davy made an attempt to help Mike, but was tackled by somebody else as Jackie made her hasty escape, dissapearing just before the police showed up. "Tommy, please wake up! Please!!" Peter pleaded, tear's streaming his face as Micky set her down on the sand. In a matter of second's, policemen flooded the area, taking everyone but the Monkees and Tommy under arrest. Two men rushed over and got Tommy onto a stretcher, rushing her to an ambulance. "I want to go with!" Peter cried, running after them, followed by Micky. "Family only!" One of the men insisted, climbing into the ambulance. "Wait!!" Peter cried when the door's shut and the ambulance sped tword's the hospital. "Come on!" Micky said, grabbing him by the arm. "To the Monkeemobile!" Mike shouted as the four touk off tword the Pad. "It seem's she had a serious concusion. She's in a coma right now, but we won't know for sure what her current state is until she wake's up." Dr. Parson explained to the foor dishaveled, anxious men stoud before him. "C-c-concusion?" Peter stuttered. "Will she be OK?" "It's hard to tell at this point. She could come out of it perfectly normal." Dr. Parson said. "Could?" Mike questioned. "There are possibilities that she might have serious, possibly perminant damage to certain funtion's." He explained. "What do you mean? She could be brain damaged!?" Micky asked, his eye's growing wide. "Not just that , there are other thing's. Ability to hear, speak, maybe even see. Like I said, it's hard to tell at this point. I'm sorry, gentlemen." They were not allowed to go in and be with Tommy in her hospital room, only to watch her from behind a window. For three day's they stayed and waited until they finaly agreed with Dr. Parson, who said he'd call if anything happened, and went home. "I'm sorry, Petah." Davy murmered from whare he lay on the floor in the downstair's bedroom. Even after three day's, he was still unable to sleep, as was Peter. "It's not your fault, Davy." Peter replied from on his bed. "I should'ave believed you. None'a this would'ave happened if I had believed you." Davy said, a tear running down the side of his face. "There's nothing you could have done." Peter said, moving to look at Davy from his bed. Davy cried outright then, burrying his face in his pillow, his body wrenching forcefully with sob's. "It's oll my fault!" He cried into his pillow. "If I wasn't so gi'l crazy, if-if I hadn't follen in love with Jackie in the fi'eh'st place, if I had just listened t'you fo'once....oh God, Petah, it's oll my fault!" He sobbed uncontrolably, the tear's soaking into his pillow. Peter reached out slowly and placed one hand on Davy's shoulder, a tear of his own rolling down his cheek in spite of his friend. "It's not your fault, Davy." He said. " It's not your fault." PART TWENTY: MISSING MONKEE.......OR TWO For the next week few day's, Micky shut himself in the bedroom upstair's and locked the door, not talking to anyone. He hadn't eaten for day's, and the other's were growing worried. Peter hardly ate either, most of the time he sat on the chaise lounge with his bass, stringing softly without saying anything. Davy spent most of his time on the beach, sitting on the sand, going for long walk's. Sometimes he'd be gone for an entire day and not even come back for a meal. Mike knew that he would have to be the strong one this time, as usual, but it was difficult. He held the same worry for Tommy as the rest of them, and he didn't hold them accountable or say anything against their unusual behavior. There was nothing he could say, or do for that matter, but he began to worry about them too as time went by. No one had even seen Micky's face since they came home, Davy was never around, and Peter never smiled, he was alway's quiet, never talking to anybody like he normally would. For teh first few day's, every time the phone rang he would jump with a start, his eye's wide, thinking maybe it was the doctor, but it never was. It was usualy a gig, which Mike turned down. But after a while, when the phone rang, he would only turn to Mike, who was alway's near by, and wait for him to get it. Mike touk on the responsibility of cheking on Micky every ounce in a while, too. "Micky?" He asked, tapping lightly on the door. "Yeah?" Came the muffled reply from inside the bedroom. Micky had been crying. "Are you OK?" "No." "Can I come in?" "What for?" "Micky, ya can't stay in there forever. Ya have t'eat something." Mike insisted. "I'm not hungry." Micky said. "It's been almost a week!" "Go away." "Micky, please-" "I said leave me alone!" Mike touk a step back from the door, shocked at his friend's tone of voice. Micky had never yelled at him like that. Mike clentched his hand's into tight fist's of anger, he would not let Micky get away with this act, he wouldn't let Micky do this to himself. "Micky, if you don't open this door right now than I'll break it down myself!" There was no reply. "I'll count to three, Micky, and this door better be open! One....." Peter looked up from his bass for the first time that day and watched Mike, was he really going to do it? He thought. He had heard the whole conversation, but hadn't been paying much attention, but now he was. "Two........" Still, there came no movement of a door opening. "Three!!" BAM!! Mike stumbled into the room, past the door, which now had a completely busted lock, and looked around the room. Micky sat on his bed, holding Tommy's penguin. No one had even noticed that he had taken it out of the downstair's bedroom. He didn't even look up at Mike, he just sat there, staring at the floor. There was slight, blue circle's around his eye's, and a sick look on his face, and he was acceptionally thinner! "I said leave me alone." He said in a hushed voice, still not looking at Mike. "Don't you give me that crap!" Mike yelled, pointing a finger at Micky. "You're not doin' anybody any good by sitt'n here feelin' sorry for yourself! Especially Tommy! What would she say if she saw you!?" Micky didn't answere, but the small tear that rolled down his cheak and the look in his eye's said it all. Micky was scared. So scared in fact that he felt to sick to eat, and he didn't care, all he cared about was Tommy. Mike's faciel expresion softened and he moved slowly to sit next to Micky on the bed. He wasn't the "huggy, family-togetherness" kind that Peter was, so it was very hard for him to make the next move. Slowly, he put one arm around Micky's shoulder's, offering what comfort he could with that simple gesture. "She'll be OK, Mick. You'll see." He said. They sat for a long while like this, with everything so quiet. Then the phone rang. Mike rolled his eye's and got up, not wanting to leave Micky alone, but knowing that Peter wouldn't get it, and Davy probably wouldn't hear it. He walked slowly down the stair's and picked up the phone. "H'llo?" He paused a moment, listening to the person on the other line. "No, I'm sorry, we can't......Bye." He hung up the phone and turned to go back upstair's, but then it rang agiain. He picked it up with a frustrated sigh. "H'llo?" He listened for a moment, then his eye's went wide. "Peter, go get Davy!" Mike ordered, slamming the phone back down onto the reciever. Four anxious Monkees burst into Mercy Hospital and rushed to the receptionists' desk. "We need to see Dr. Parson!" Mike said. "One moment please." The clerk said. She pushed down on a butten and spoke into a microphone. "Paging Dr. Parson. Please come to the reception desk. Dr. Parson, to the reception desk." Then she turned to the Monkees. "He'll be right with you." Then she turned back to her work. They filed over to the other side of the hall and waited until Dr. Parson came into view from down the hall. "Doctor Parson!" Mike called as he, Micky, Davy, and Peter ran up to him. "How is she?" Micky asked. "She's awake," A wave of relief washed over the group at that said. "Is she OK?" Peter asked. "The concusion caused less trouble then we thought it would, but it did have an effect on her brain cell's." The Doctor explained. "When she woke up, we ran some test's and.....well, her speech has fully labored out." "Labored out?" Mike questioned. "You mean, she can't talk?" "It's not that she can't speak, Mr. Nesmith, it's just that she doesn't know how. She no longer understand's the concept of speech, therefore, she can't make a sound." Dr. Parson said, grimly. "I-It'll go away, right?" Peter asked, his eye's hopefull. "It could be temporary or it could be perminant, we're not sure. For the most part, her cell's should heal eventually and she'll have her speech back, but for now, there's no telling what may happen." Dr. Parson said. "Can we take her home now?" Micky asked, almost pleading. Dr. Parson's expression changed to one the boy's couldn't quite read. "That's the part I forgot to tell you." He said slowly, almost regretfully. "Whadda you mean?" Mike asked. "Well.....the police have already issued her into Mercy Group Home, for recovering patient's. I'm afraid they've granted her responsibility legally to the group home until they find her family." Four eye's went wide. Mike wheeled around and threw his arm's up into the air, cursing loudly. "I knew this would 'appen!" Davy scowled, putting a hand over his eye's. "We'll adopt her then!" Micky cried, getting everyone's attention. "I'm sorry, I've already suggested that to the police, but they won't have it until they know that she doesn't have a family out there somewhare." Dr. Parson said. "They can't take her away from us!!" Micky yelled, slamming his foot down on the floor, drawing attention from people around. "Doc, can't you just tell them I'm her father!" Mike asked, eye's pleading. "They were suspicious of that from the start and checked into it. They found no match in the DNA in your blood and her's." Dr. Parson said. This is not happining, Mike thought, beggining to pace back and fourth, any chance they had at keeping Tommy was now gone! How would she make it in a group home, she'd crack! With all those people around and none of them with her, anything could happen! What would they do now!? Peter slipped quietly into the dimly lit room, trying to act cassual. He had escaped from the group un-noticed in the middle of the conversation, with a plan in mind. Tommy lay on the hospital bed, still and asleep. He tiptoed over to the bed and touched her hand lightly, which woke her up emediately. At first, her eye's were wide with fear, but when she saw who it was, a look of complete praise crossed her face, and she emediately reached up and hugged him tightly. He hugged her back, relief rushing throughout his body at the feeling of Tommy's touch, and he knew it was real. "Tommy, I'm going to get you out of here." Peter said, pulling her back to look at her. She looked up at him, completely puzzled, and Peter realized that she didn't understand a word he had just said! This was going to he harder than he thought. The front door of the Pad burst open and Mike ran in, followed by Davy and Micky. "Peter! Tommy!" Mike yelled, bounding up the stair's. Micky ran out onto the verendah and Davy looked all around the Pad. The Doctor had taken them to go see Tommy, but when they got there, Tommy was gone! Then they realized Peter was missing, too! "Did you find them?!" Davy asked as Mike leapt down the stair's. "There not up there." He replied. "But some clothe's a'your's and Peter's are missin'." "They must'ave been h'eah then." Davy said. "There not outside." Micky said, rushing back into the house. "The'not safe out the'eh alone! Jackie's still out the'eh, man!" Davy exclaimed. Micky looked at Mike, fear etched in his face. "Why would Peter do something so stupid!" Mike yelled frustratingly, throwing his hand's up in exasperation. This was the last thing any of them needed. "Don't worry, no one'll find us here." Peter said as he lead Tommy by the hand into an area of large rock's somewhare on the beach that kept them well hidden and out of sight. She was now wearing a pair of Davy's short's and one of Peter's shirt's, as well as her new bathing suit. She just looked confused as Peter sat down on the sand and pulled her down to sit in between his leg's, leaning her against his chest and he leaned back against a large rock. Even though he seemed peaceful enough, his mind was racing. He knew that he and Tommy couldn't stay here for long, only for the night. He would try and get them back to the Pad in the morning, he decided. That would be the best thing to do. "Go on to sleep, Tommy. We'll go see Micky in the morning." Peter said, leaning his head back and closing his eye's. But his eye's flew open when he felt Tommy shake her head. She doesn't understand, he thought. "Sleep. Sleep." He said simply. After a minute, Tommy shifted slightly, resting a little more. "Sleep." She mumbled/repeated in a small, tired voice, like that of a small child learning her first word's, and Peter's whole face lit up with a smile! That's was the first word he had heard her say in a week! She was learning! Peter drowsily opened his eye's when he felt someone shaking his shoulder, trying to wake him up. He trained his gaze on Tommy, who now sat next to him, looking at him expectantly. He stretched and yawned, rubbing the sleep from his eye's, then he turned to Tommy and smiled. "Morning!" He greeted, hoping she would understand. Her brows went inward in puzzlement for only a second before she looked down at the sand. She didn't understand him, she didn't understand anything that was going on, or why she didn't and everyone else did. Peter's smile faded slightly at her reaction, and he reached up with one hand and gently cupped her cheek, forcing her to look up at him. He smiled warmly, knowing she would understand that, and she did, smiling back. "Morning." He repeated, gesturing tword the sun and sky. "Morning." He said again. "Mor-ning?" Tommy repeated hesitantly, hoping she was understanding him correctly. Peter's dimple's grew with his smile and he nodded aprovingly. Tommy smiled as well. "Morning!" She repeated again. Peter nodded again and gave her a big hug. "You," He said, pointing at her. "Me," He said, pointing at himself. "Go. See. Micky." He tried to explain his plan in the best way he could, and she frowned, puzzled. He repeated himself, making the same gestures. Tommy seemed to be consontrating for a moment. "You...." She pointed at Peter. "Me...." Then she pointed at herself. "Go......See......" She stopped there, thinking. "Micky." Peter said. Tommy looked up at him and stared for a moment, her mind searching for the answer to the simple word. Then, all at ounce, her whole face lit up with a smile of exitement. "Micky!!" She cried happily, nodding vigerously. Peter smiled and touk her hand, helping her up as he stoud. If she could understand the word "Micky", she could understand anything! "Crud." Peter muddered under his breath. He and Tommy stoud around the corner of a building, whare they could see the Pad clearly. But something stoud in ther way. A patrol car was parked just outside the house, and they couldn't get near without being seen. And if they were seen, there went Peter's attempt to keep Tommy out of a children's center. "Crud?" Tommy repeated, giving Peter a strange look. Peter nodded and pointed at the patrol car. "Police." He said. Tommy just looked strangely at him, not understanding. Peter tried to think of another word to discribe it. "Fuzz." He said before he could catch himself. That's what Mike usually called them, and so that was the first word that came to his head. "Fuzz?" Tommy repeated, looking over at the patrol car. "Yup." Peter agreed. "Yup." Tommy whispered, gazing at the patrol car. Peter grinned and looked at her. "Bad news." He said, pointing at the car again. Tommy looked at him, then back at the car. "B-Bad......news." She stuttered, not quite understanding. Peter gave her hand a slight squeez, and she smiled slightly. Even though she had no concept of word's in her head, she knew deep down that as long as Peter was there, she didn't need to understand. Later that day, Davy sat out on the sand, leaning against a large rock, far away from the Pad. That cop had been awefully pushy, poking his nose into private thing's of him and guys'. It felt better to be out on the beach alone whare he could think. Stupid American police, he thought with a snort, they think they know everything. Peter had the right idea to get Tommy out of there when he had the chance, she'd have probably gone crackers by now. Suddenly, someone grabbed his arm and a hand covered Davy's mouth, muffling his shocked scream. "Sssshhhhhh!" A voice hissed from behind him. "It's just Peter." Peter released Davy, who whirled around to look for himself. "Tommy!" He cried, pulling her into a hug, which she returned. "Wot the blazes a'you two doing out'eah!?" He retorted then, pulling back       !"#$%&'()*+,-./0123456789:;<=>?@ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ[\]^_`abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz{|}~to see both of them. "Davy, please keep it down!" Peter pleaded, glancing behind them in the direction of the road. "Fuzz!" Tommy said, worry etched in her face. "Hey, she talked?" Davy said, surprised, then he frowned. "Wo'd she say?" "Fuzz. The cop's, Davy." Peter explained. "Come on, we got to get you back to the Pad befo'h someone sees you." Davy urged, getting to his feet. "No, we can't go back. The police would find her there." Peter said, also standing, as well as Tommy, who still held his hand. "We're gonna hide somewhare else-" "Like bloody heck you'ah!" Davy cut him off. Was Peter completely out of his mind!? "Mike and Micky 'ave been goin' crackah's wondah'in whe'eh you'ah! You'h comin' 'ome right now." He said, grabbing his other hand. Peter jerked away emediately. "I'm not some kid, Davy! You can't cart me around like a child!" He protested agrily. Davy looked at him, stunned. Peter never acted like this before, but then again, he had a right to, Davy realized. He did some time's treat him like a child, but that didn't matter right now. "I'm getting Mike." He said, heading tword the Pad. "Davy, Please! We need your help!" Peter pleaded. "Davy!" Davy didn't turn around. What could he do, anyway? "Davy?" The small, innocent voice of Tommy made Davy stop short. "P....please?" That was his undoing. He turned around to face them, all determination gone. Walking back tword them, he put one hand on Tommy's shoulder. "Olright." He said, smiling at her. Tommy looked at Peter, confused. Peter simply nodded, smiling. Her face lit up then, and the turned back to Davy and wrapped her arm's around him in a tight hug. She didn't know what going on, but whatever Peter had wanted from Davy, Davy gave it, and that made Tommy happy. "Mike!" Davy called, entering the Pad through the verendah door. "Yeah?" Came Mike's reply from the kitchen table whare he sat reading the paper. "I need t'talk t'you." Davy said, sitting down across from his friend. Mike put the paper down and regarded Davy seriously. "What about?" He asked. "You promise not to freak on me?" Davy asked. "Yeah, I guess...." Mike replied hesitantly, eyeing Davy curiosly. "I saw Tommy'n Petah-" "You WHAT!!?" Mike burst out. "Whare!?!" "Outside-" Mike jumped from the table. "But the'gone!!" Davy said quickly, and Mike stopped short. "Whadda ya mean, their GONE!?" He demanded. "You let them leave!?!" "They wouldn't come back!! Petah said it was too dangerous." Davy tried to explain. "Oh, of all the stupid...." Mike muttered, pacing back and fourth near the bandstand. "Y'know the cop's would just come back lookin' fo'em." Davy said, standing. "Do you know whare they went?" Mike asked, hopefully. "No. Petah wouldn't tell me." Davy replied. Mike began pacing again. This is ludecris, he thought. "What's goin' on?" Micky asked, walking down the tornado stair case. "Davy saw Peter and Tommy." Mike answered. "You WHAT!!?" Micky yelled, rounding on Davy with a shell-shocked look. "Whare are they!?!" "Gone. They wouldn't come back with me-" "Why the heck not!!?" Micky demanded. "He say's Peter said it'b be too dangerous here, the fuzz'd find'em." Mike explained. "Oh, for cryin' out loud!" Micky exclaimed, throwing his hand's up in exhasperation. "Why did they bother showing themselves then?" Mike asked then, as if the thought had just accured to him. "They needed money f'food. And Petah said he just wanted you guy's t'know they we'eh OK, and that he'd take good ca'eh of Tommy." Davy said. "Take care of her! Peter couldn't take care of a gold fish, let alone a teenage girl!" Mike said. "Mike!" Micky scolded. "Petah is very responsible. An'besides, a gold fish won't tell you if the's something wrong." Davy said. "Neither will Tommy!! She doesn't know how, remember!" Mike yelled. "Yes she does!" Davy argued, which caught both the other men's attention. "Davy, didn't you hear the doctor-" "Yes, I hea'd the docteh, but she's lea'ning! She spoke t'me." Davy interrupted. "What'd she say?" Micky asked. "Just little thing's Petah tought'eh like 'fuzz', 'Davy', and 'please'." Davy answered. There was a short silence, then there was a knock at the door. Micky got to it first. "Yeah? Oh, he Mr. Babbitt." Micky said unenthusiastically. "You boy's have got some explaining to do!" Babbitt scowled. "What's with all the police? And I demand answeres!" "Peter and Tommy are missing." Micky replied coldly, wanting to sock the old fart for being such a jerk. Babbitt's expression changed then to one of surprise. "Oh, I'm sorry, Dolenz. I had no idea." He apolegized. Micky's anger calmed a bit, and he nodded slightly. "It's OK." He said. "When did this happen?" Babbitt asked. All three of them were caught off gaurd by that question. Since when did Babbitt care? "Yesterday, but it's a long story." Mike answered from in the living room whare he and Davy now stoud. Babbitt looked as if he was willing to listen now, but figured he'd better wait for a better time. "Ok......I guess I'll get going then." And with that, he left. Micky closed the door and turned back to his two bewildered friend's. It wasn't normal to hear Babbitt talk to them without yelling or being a grouch. PART TWENTY-ONE: DO WHAT I DO, SAY WHAT I SAY Peter sat with Tommy in the safety of the large rock's, trying to teach her more word's. Laying near them in a small pile were a few McDonalds wrappers. "Tommy." Peter said, pointing at her. "Tommy." She looked confused for a moment, then pointed at Peter and repeated the word. "Tommy?" She said in question. Some how, pointing at him and saying that word didn't sound right to her, but she gave it a shot anyway. "No no no." Peter said. "Nonono?" She repeated as he touk her hand and directing it so that it pointed at her. "Tommy." He said. Boy, he thought, it's a good thing Mike wasn't trying to do this, he'd have gone crazy by now, considering the fact that he had exactly 2/10 of patient's in him. Tommy looked at her hand, then at Peter, then at her hand again. "Tommy." She said, grinning slightly as she touched her chest with her finger. That sounded right. Peter smiled and nodded, then he pointed himself. "Peter. Peter." He said. Tommy looked up at him, and a small grin spread out on her face. "Peter." She said, poking his nose. Peter laughed, then he reached over and poked her nose back. "Tommy." He said, grinning. Tommy smiled and shook her head. "Peter!" She said, poking his nose again. "No, Tommy!" Peter laughed, poking her nose. "No, Peter!" Tommy chorused, this time poking his stomach, which made him laugh and shrink away from her. Then she jumped up and fred from the scene, dissapearing around the rock's. Peter jumped to his feet and touk off after her, but when he had circled the entire rock bed and found nothing, he paused by the opening they usually entered in and stoud, scratching his head in puzzlement. "Tommy?" He called, loud enough for her to hear, but quiet enough that it wouldn't carry. He waited and listened, but nothing happened. Whare'd she go? He thought. Suddenly, as if out of no whare, Tommy jumped up and tackled him, knocking him over into the sand. She pinning him down, holding his shoulder's down and positioning herself on top of him as Micky had taught her one time, preventing him from escape. "Peter!" She cried happily, not knowing what else to say, literally. Peter laughed, trying to wiggle out of her grasp, but to no avail. Finally, he gave up, letting his entire body rest against the sand. Tommy smiled triumphantly, then the smile faded, as if she were groping for the right word's to explain what she was going to do next, or to prevoke him. But this confusion didn't last long, and Tommy decided to skip speech and try something else. Quickly, she bent down and kissed his nose lightly, then she scrambled off of him and made a run for the water, taking off her shirt and throwing it into the sand as she ran. Peter was on his feet in second and tossed his shirt aside as well, diving in after her. "Tommy!!" Tommy whirled around at Peter's cry, he didn't sound like he was playing. She stoud still in the water for a moment, looking around. Peter was gone. "Peter?" She called out, but there was no answere. Suddenly someone grabbed her around the waist from behind. "Gatcha!" Peter cried, triumphantly. "Peter!" Tommy yelled, laughing as Peter lifted her up. "Down!" She demanded playfully. Peter gently put her back down so that her feet touched the bottom. He was a bit surprised, as far as he remembered, he hadn't taught her that word yet. This was a very good sign. Tommy turned to face him, teasingly glaring at him. "Peter scare." She said, folding her arm's across her chest. "Did I scare you?" Peter asked, hoping he understoud her right, and hoping he hadn't done anything wrong. She looked confused for a moment, but then she nodded, looking down at the water, pouting. "I'm sorry." Peter said. Tommy looked up at him, and he realized that she didn't understand him. "Peter." He sauid, pointing at himself. "Sorry. Sorry." He said, giving her his best Bambi-Eye's look, and after a minute, she smiled shyly, trying to hide it by looking away. Peter grinned and pulled her into a light hug. "Peter." She half-sighed, letting herself rest in his arm's. Peter kissed her forehead lightly, and rested his chin on the top of her head. He made a promise right then and thare that as long as he was able to, Tommy would never be taken away from them. From him. Ever. Davy sat out on the verendah later that night. It was actually five in the morning, to be exact, and it was still quite dark. He thought about whare Peter and Tommy might be, if they were some whare safe and warm, or some whare cold and damp. He could never tell when it came to Peter, but one thing he knew for sure was that Tommy would be safe with him. Peter love's her, he thought, he would never let her get hurt. Then his mind turned to Jackie, and he frowned, his anger rising. How could he have been so blind? He should never have said those thing's to Peter, he knew Peter wouldn't joke about something like that. And he had to admitt, now that he thought about it, Jackie did ask alot of question's about Tommy, and the rest of them, too. Davy could understand completely how Tommy could be afraid of Jackie's brother, Charlie. He was pretty strange, alway's quiet. He couldn't believe they got away from the cop's. Stupid American police, Davy thought for the hundredth time. They couldn't bust a lousy jaywalker, and yet that's probably why they had time to butt into their affair's and issue Tommy into a group home........Davy shuddered. The thought of Tommy cooped up in a group home, sleeping in the same room as thirty other kid's at different ages, not being able to understand the concept of speech, and them not being there. She would crack within twenty four hour's, there was no doubt about that. Davy thanked God that Peter got her out of there when he did. The question now was 'what's to come'? Peter couldn't hide Tommy forever. They would have to do something, but what. Davy's mind turned suddenly to the paper he had read to many week's ago. "Often talked of, nevah seen. Evah coming, nevah been. Daily looked fo'ah, nevah h'eah. Still aproaching, coming ne'ah. Thousand's fo'it's visit wait, but alas fo'the'eh fate. Though they'd expect me to appeah, they will nevah find me he'ah........." Davy felt so close to the answere, yet there was something blocking it. Like the filing cabinet drawer in his head which contained the answere was locked. "Blast it oll..." Davy mumbled in frustration. "Micky?" Uh oh. Peter knew this question would come eventually. It had been two day's now, and they hadn't seen Davy, Micky, or Mike again. Peter still had a little money left from what Davy had given them, but that was it. And he still hadn't been able to come up with the right way to explain all this to Tommy. "Micky?" She asked again, shaking Peter slightly. They sat together in their "Safe Haven", and it was well into the after noon. "Soon." Peter answered, and hoped what he was saying was true. He missed his friend's. "Soon?" She repeated. "Yeah." Peter replied, nodding. "Tommy," Tommy said, pointing at herself. "Miss Micky." Peter put an arm around her shoulder's and pulled her close to him, kissing the top of her head lightly. "I know." He said. "Peter," She said, touching Peter's other hand, which sat in lap. "Miss Micky?" "Yeah. And Mike." Peter replied. "Mike." Tommy murmered, cuddling closer to Peter. That was the first time she had said that word, Peter noted. "Miss Mike." She said, and Peter smiled. She learned more and more every day, and it was also fun to teach her. Peter heard a small 'click', and looked up. His eye's went wide with terror at what he saw, and he shrank back, clutching Tommy more tightly in a manor of protection. "Get up, Peter." Said Jackie, who stoud in front of the rock "Safe Haven", pointing a gun down at them! "Peter!!" Tommy cried at just noticing Jackie, and wrapped her arm's around Peter, who held onto her protectively. He didn't make any hint's that he was about to move, and Jackie glared at him. "Get UP, Peter." She demanded again, stiffening her arm that held the gun. Still, he didn't move. Jackie pointed the gun straight at Tommy then, who shrank back even more. "Now." Peter hesitated before carefully, and slowly, getting to his feet. He didn't want to let go of Tommy in any way, but he didn't want her shot either. Tommy instintively followed his action's, gripping his hand fearfully as they both stoud, and Peter was some what relieved that she did this on her own. Jackie stepped back and made an "out" gesture with her other hand, and Peter gave Tommy's hand a firm squeeze as he slowly led them both out of there "Safe Haven" and out into the vast openness of the beach. The sun was already starting to set in the distance, causing it to grow slowly dark. Peter's mind raced frantically for something that would help them, but nothing came to mind. Suddenly all at ounce, someone tackled Peter from behind, knocking him to the sand, causing him to lose his grip on Tommy's hand! Someone else had grabbed Tommy, and Peter heard her scream, but it was cut off abruptly. BAM! Whoever had attacked Peter had just punched him in the face. Peter kicked upward's instinctively, and felt a hard impact on something, or someone, but he didn't know what. He could hear comotion in the background and a distant siren as he tried to get to his feet, but somebody knocked him back down. Charlie yelped in pain when a sharp impact hit his finger. She bit me! he thought, holding his hand in pain. Tommy wrenched free of his grasp and made a run for Peter, but was stopped by Jackie, who grabbed her arm and pulled her back. Someoen rushed over to Peter and kicked whoever was on him, knocking him onto the sand. Peter looked up and saw that it was a cop! Thank God, he thought, but would regret it later. "Freeze!!" One cop yelled, tackling Jackie, while another grabbed Tommy and rushed her away from the scene and out of danger. They already had Charlie, and were taking care of whoever had been beating on Peter. Peter jumped to his feet, ignoring any pain he felt, and tried to run to Tommy, but he was stopped when two policemen grabbed his arm's, preventing him from running. "Wait, you don't understand! Tommy!!" Peter yelled, struggeling "Peter!?!" He heard Tommy yell back as a policemen put her in the backseat of one of the car's. "Sir, you're gonna have to come with us-" "What!! Whadda you mean!?" Peter protested. This was defenetaly not a good thing. "You're under arrest for the kidnap-" The cop tried to say, but Peter cut him off, outraged. "Kidnapping!! That's rediculas!! I safed her life, for God's sake, let me go!!!" Peter demanded, struggeling hard as the police forced him into the backseat of another car. Micky sat at the kitchen table, trying to read the paper. He couldn't consontrate very well with his mind at anything BUT the paper. He finally gave up and threw it down onto the table with a snort. Suddenly the phone rang, and he scrambled from his seat, his heart pounding, hoping it would be who he thought it was. "Hello?" He asked, anxiously as Davy walked out of the downstair's bathroom and over to the phone. "Oh. Hi, Mr. Babbitt." Micky said, his face falling. "No, not yet......Thank's.......Ok, I we will, bye." He hung up the phone then and sighed, slumping back down into his chair. "What'd e'want, Micky?" Davy asked, sitting down across from him at the table. "He wanted to know if we heard anything about Tommy and Peter." Micky replied. "E'did?" Davy asked, his eye's widening some in surprise. "Yeah, I told him I'd call if we heard anything." Micky replied. "You know'is numbah?" "No, but I'm sure we've got it around here somewhare. He's our landlord after all." Micky said. "That's true-" Just then the phone rang again, and Davy got to it first. "Ello?...No, I'm 'is room-mate.....Yeah....." Micky was on his feet within the second and tried to grab the phone from Davy. "Who is it!" He demanded, but Davy shoo'ed him away. "Whadda you mean "arrested", wot 'appened?.....Yeah, olright. We'll get the'soon as we can." Davy put the phone back on the reciever and made a mad dash for the door, grabbing the car key's on the way. "Get Mike!" He ordered on his way out. "I'm going t'staht the cah." "Hey, wake up." Peter opened his eye's drowsily and peered around the room, or jail cell to be exact. He lay curled up on the bottom of a bunk bed in a faded blue outfit that all the other guy's on that level wore. He sat up slowly, so as not to hit his head, and leaned outward so he could see who was talking to him. A policemen stoud at the door of the cell, unlocking it. "Ok, buddy. Let's go." He said, opening the door. "Someone's here t'see ya." Peter stoud and walked over to the door. "Do I get to have these off now?" Peter asked, holding up his arm's, which were hand-cuffed at the wrist. "Nope." The policemen said, taking Peter by the arm and leading him down the hall. Darn, Peter thought, these thing's are uncomfortable, and they're cold, too. They rode the elevator in silence, and Peter couldn't help but think what Tommy was doing right now. Probably crying, he thought as his stomach twisted at the thought of Tommy being in emotional pain. Then, without begin able to stop it, a small hardly noticable tear rolled down Peter's cheak. "What's e'matter with you?" The policemen asked, not sounding the least bit concerned. "Nothin'." Peter mumbled, looking away. "Hm." Was all the policemen said. The elevator door opened and he led Peter out and down the hallway. After a minute, a familiar English accented voice carried across the hall. "Petah!!" Peter looked up just in time to see Davy running tword him, followed by Micky. Davy practically jumped on him, hugging him tightly. "Thank God you'ah olright!" He exclaimed. Peter flinched at the pain Davy's hug put on the places he was hurt, but didn't push him back, he couldn't! "Ow ow ow!" He exclaimed, and Davy backed off slightly. "Sorry, man." He said. "Peter, what happened?" Micky asked, giving him a light hug. Peter felt bad that he couldn't return any of these hug's, it was rare that he got hug's from the guy's. "Jackie came back, but they caught'er." Peter said. "And you, from the look's of it." Micky said, regarding the hand-cuff's and Peter's new geddup. Peter gave him a "Not funny" look. "Whare's Mike?" He asked then. "Signing you outta h'eah." Davy said, pointing his thumb over his shoulder tword the front desk. "Hey, Peter!" Mike called, running up to them with Peter's clothes. "Hi, Mike!" Peter greeted, smiling. Then came something he wouldn't have expected in a million year's. Mike HUGGED him! Not for long, just a brief hug to show he was happy to see Peter was alright, but that was enough to make all six eye's go wide. "Hey, Eddie, he's good!" Someone yelled from down the hall, and the policemen, who had been standing there the whole time, nodded and unlocked Peter's hand-cuff's. "Thank you." Peter said, rubbing his wrist's. "Here, get changed." Mike said, handing the cloth's to Peter. "We're goin' t'see Tommy." PART TWENTY-TWO: THE CLOCK IN THE SKY IS POUNDING AWAY, AND THERE'S SO MUCH TO SAY. GOODBYE, GOODBYE! "Whadda you mean she's not here?" Mike asked as the four Monkees stoud at the receptionist's desk at Mercy Children Center. "She was moved to Mercy Hospital about an hour after she arrived." The man said. "Ok, thank's." Mike said, not sounding very thankful as he headed out the door, followed by the other's. "Why would she be at the hospital?" Micky questioned, hopping over the side of the car into the front passenger's seat as Davy and Peter climbed in the back. "That's what were gonna find out." Mike said, climbing in a starting the engine. "Boy's, I'm glad you're here." Dr. Parson said as he lead them all down the hall. "What happened, doc?" Mike asked as they walked. "It seem's she was injected with something." Dr. Parson explained. "During the fight?" Peter asked. "I'm afraid so." The doctor answered as they stopped outside a door. "W'll, she'll be OK, right?" Micky asked. The doctor looked at them all, his expression un-readable. "She's.....Well....She's dying." The word's hit them like a bolt of lightning. Dying? "Bu....But she was fine last time! Can't you fix it?" Micky asked, his eye's hopeful. "I'm sorry, boy's." Dr. Parson said, his voice ladened with regret. "You can go in and see her together if you want, she doesn't have much longer." He continued, opening the door to the room. Micky was the first to enter, followed by Mike, then Davy, and a hesitant Peter. Tommy lay on the hospital bed, breathing unsteadily. An IV ran into her arm, and a small tube ran into her nose. She was so pale, worst than the last time. Mike was the first one to get enought gut's and aproach the bed, kneeling down since there was no chair, he spoke low to her. "Tommy? Can you hear me?" Tommy didn't move, but Mike continued anyway. "Well, if you can, I just wanted t'say that....well.....You still feel like a daughter t'me, an'that'll never change, no matter what happen's. I'll alway's love ya, Tommy." He reached up and brushed the hair from her face as he spoke the last word's, then kissed her forehead. He could feel the tear's behind his eye's as he stoud. This is my daughter, he thought. He turned and walked out of the room, a tear streaking down the side of his face that was noticed only by Davy. Micky went next, sitting on the edge of the bed, with tear's already in his eye's. "Hi, honey. I-it's me, Micky." He said, taking her hand in both of his and giving it a light squeeze. "Listen, I...I know you probably can't understand me, but.....but I love you. I love you so much, Tommy. Remember that." He pulled Tommy's hand up and held it against his chest, the tear's streaming down his face. "Remember." He felt Tommy's hand grip his only slightly, but it didn't last long. He gently replaced her hand beside her on the bed and got up, walking out the door. Davy approached next, standing beside the bed. "Eye, luv." He said, sifting his hand threw her hair gently, hoping she felt it. "Ya know, I don't think I'v evah seen Mike cry befo'ah." He continued. "It's kinda funny, but out of oll th'girl's I've known, you we'the most fascinating one. I guess I'll nevah know wh'eah you thought of oll those question's that kept me thinkin' oll th'time. I know you we'olway's kinda sca'ed of me, but I love you anyway. And I know you love me, too. And I bet I'll nevah find anothah girl quite like you. (Pause) I won't say goodbye, Tommy. I've olway's hated goobye's. I'll se ya latah." With that, Davy turned and walked out the door, only now alowing the tear's to come. Even though he knew Tommy wouldn't be able to see Davy crying, he didn't want her to know he had been. It might upset her, but he wasn't sure why, Micky had cried in front of her. Peter sat hesitantly on the bed, looking down at Tommy with pain filled eye's. He didn't know what to say, and a tear rolled down his cheak, landing on the bed and soaking into the blanket. After a minute, Peter reached over and slightly poked her nose. "Tommy." He said, grinning slightly at the memory, but the grin faded quickly. "Um.......I don't know what to say." He said. "I love you, Tommy. So much more than you'll ever know......I just....I just wish I could tell you.......or had told you......how much I.......I just......." Peter bent down and gently brushed his lip's against her's, hoping she would feel it. He pulled back and looked at her, taking in every feature, as if drawing a picture in his mind. "I love you, sweetheart." He whispered, then he bent down and kissed her again as more tear's came. If only he had realized it himself before, he could have told her that he loved her. But now it was too late. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- We regret to inform you that on August 4, 1967, Tommy Nesmith died of a leathel drug injection. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Davy stoud on the verendah, watching as Peter sat out on the sand, staring point blank at the ocean. He couldn't see Peter's face, but he knew that he was crying. Not the kind that made him shudder forcefully, but the kind of tears that simply flowed from his eye's and down his face, whare he couldn't stop them. Davy looked down at his hands, not wanting the sight to cause him to cry again, he would wait until he was in bed to cry, it was easier for him when he had a pillow nearby. A thought accured to him then. That question. That strange poem of Tommy's he had found. Without meaning to, Davy began to recite it in his head, consontrating hard on the word's. Suddenly he jerked his head up, wide-eye'd. Finally, he figured it out. Tomorrow! That was the answere. Now it all make's sense, Davy thought, mentally smacking his forehead. Then he thought about the answere for a moment, and got a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Tomorrow's gonna be another day." He could almost hear Tommy saying those word's to him, but he knew it was just his emagination. But he felt better now that everything made sense. Tomorrow's gonna be another day. 1985: Peter sat down on his bed, setting a small, old cardboard box beside him. He had left the bedroom door open because he knew that there was no one in the house to barge in on him, considering how Davy, Micky, and Mike had moved out long ago, and he was the only one he stayed at the Pad. He reached up and straightened his thin-frammed glasses, which he had gotten only a few week's ago, noting again how much he disliked being near-sighted. He shifted so that he was sitting cross-legged and picked up the box again, setting it on his lap. He opened the lid and peered mischivously into the box. After a moment, he reached inside and pulled out a small, stuffed animal penguin, ruffled from being slept with- 1967: Tommy sat on the couch, with Micky sitting beside her, Mike leaning his hand's on the back of the couch, looking over her, Davy sitting on the floor next to the couch, and Peter sitting on the other side of her. She smiled as she opened the top of the small white box and pulled out a brand new stuffed penguin! She hugged it close to her, smiling. 1985: Peter smiled as he studied it carefully, then set it aside and reached back into the box, pulling out a small, white sailor hat- 1967: Tommy stoud in the living room with her eye's closed, smiling and practically jumping in her spot with exitement. Mike sneaked up behind her and placed a white object on her head, then rushed back to stand with the other's near the bandstand. Tommy opened her eye's and pulled it off, lookinf at it and smiling. She turned around to face them in question, and Micky, Davy, and Peter all pointed at Mike, who was pointing at Davy and grinning, trying to look convincing that it hadn't been him. 1985: Peter placed it on his head and laughed slightly at how rediculas he must look, then set it aside next to the penguin. Next he pulled out a large, clay bowl- 1967: Tommy grinned as Peter placed his hand's over her's, guiding them along the surface of what looked sort of like a bowl. They spoke to each other as they did this, and the clay began to take the form of a very nice looking bowl. 1985: Turning it over, Peter read the name's that had been written into the clay when it was wet almost 18 years ago. Peter Tork Tommy They forgot the Nesmith, Peter thought with a snicker. After studying the bowl for a moment, he placed it with the penguin and the hat and reached his hand in again, and this time he pulled out something soft and lose. Peter lifted the folded object up and it dangled down, revealing a grey skirt with blue grooves- 1967: Tommy leapt down the spiral stair's, landing with a thump on the second floor and twirling around, proudly and exitedly displaying her new skirt, the first piece of clothing that had belonged to her. Mike, Micky, Davy, and Peter all aplauded from whare they sat in various places around the Pad. She smiled and plopped down on the couch next to Micky, who was watching tv. 1985: Peter smiled and set the skirt in the growing pile next to him, then reached back into the box and pulled out a small object. It was a white, brown-speckled shell- 1967: Peter sat out on the sand looking out over the ocean with tears streaking his face. He sifted his hand's through the sand as he sat, and felt something small and hard. Looking down, he saw the white, brown-speckled shell he had givin Tommy over a week ago. He lifted it out of the sand and held it up, examining it carefully, as if looking for a sign that it had ounce been in Tommy's hand's, and the tears started up again. Peter dropping the shell and put his face in his hand's, crying uncontrolably. 1985: A small tear rolled down Peter's cheak at this memory, but he quickly whiped it away. He did not want to think of the bad times, that wasn't why he had gotten the box out in the first place. Erasing the sad memories, he reached into the box again. This time he pulled out an envelope, and, looking slightly confused, Peter opened it and pulled out a small pile of photo's. The first one he saw was a picture of him and Tommy sleeping in his bed- 1967: Peter lifted one eye slightly and saw Davy leaving the room and closing the door behind him. He considered getting up, but then he remembered that Tommy was still asleep in his arm's, and he didn't want to wake her, so he decided to wait until she woke up on her own. But after a little while, he heard the door begin to open and he closed his eye's, hoping whoever it was wouldn't know he was awake and not getting up. He heard a 'snap' and felt a flash of light against his eyelid's, but didn't move. That rat, he thought with a slight grin at whoever just touk a picture of them. 1985: "Davy..." Peter mumbled, lifted the picture and placing it at the back of the pile. Whare had Davy gotten that stinking camera anyway, he thought. The next picture was one of Mike on the stair's, holding his hand's up and trying to block the flash. He had obviously just woken up, and didn't look pleased at having his picture taken by surprise, especially this early in the morning. Peter laughed and lifted the photo, looking at the next one. It was a picture of Mike chasing Micky on the beach. Micky obviously touk the last picture, Peter thought with a snicker, but why would Davy take a picture of THIS? He lifted it and looked at the next picture, which showed him and Tommy holding up their painting, smiling. Peter studied the picture, or the person standing on the other side of the painting, for a long moment before he flipped it and looked at the next. This one showed all four of them except Davy piled on the couch: Mike in the middle, Micky on the left, Peter on the right, and Tommy laying across their leg's, laughing. All of them were smiling the dumbest smile they could manage, and Peter laughed harder than he had at any of the photo's at how rediculas they all looked. The next was a picture of Micky holding onto Tommy, who was screaming with excitement as he slid down the railing of the spiral stair's. Too bad they didn't have Edvantex then, Peter thought, noting how the picture was blurry because Davy had taken it while they were moving. He moved it to the back of the pile and looked at the next one, whiched showed the four of them minus Davy on the bandstand: Micky behind his drum's, Mike with his 12-string, Peter behind his keyboard, and Tommy with Davy's tamborine. They are all smiling, pretending to play, while Micky has his mouth open, as if he's singing. The next one was much the same thing, only this time, the arrangement was different: Tommy sat behind Micky's drum's, Peter had Mike's 12-string, Davy stoud behind Peter's keyboard, Micky had Peter's Bass, and Mike, with a sour look on his face, held Davy's maraca's! Peter laughed outright at this, but stopped when he noticed something. Who touk the picture? They were all in it, so who could have- "Oh yeah." Peter said outloud, remembering that Babbitt had stopped by, demanding the rent, and Davy had suckered him into taking the picture. Peter flipped it up and over the pile and looked at the next one, which was a picture Davy had set up for someone else to take from the other side of the house, making it a wide shot of the stair's and balcony: Davy stoud below the balcony with Mike's 6-string guitar, also wearing Mike's hat, pretending to play and sing to Tommy, who stoud on the balcony with a fake-dreamy look on her face as she listened to Davy sing. The next few picture's was a continuation of the scene. The first showing Tommy dropping a flower from the balcony, and the second showing Davy catching the flower. The next few were another eposide Peter had planned himself: The first showed Tommy standing on the verendah with her back to Mike, who was sneaking up behind her with a develish grin. The second showed Tommy looking at Mike in fake-terror as he approched her. Written on the picture with a perminant marker was a little bubble above Tommy's head, in which read "HELP!". The third showed Peter standing in a theatrical pose as the Hero of the plot, with Mike looking scared. The fourth showed Peter holding Tommy in both arm's, smiling, with Mike to the left, half-cut out of the shot as he ran away. Peter laughed in the memory of making that little episode, with Mike sulking slightly because Peter had suckered HIM into playing the bad guy, and Micky and Davy sulking because they couldn't be the Hero, or anything, for that matter. He flipped to the next picture, which had the scene turned slightly sideway's, as if the person had been slightly unbalanced, and saw Mike, Himself, and Davy tickeling Micky, who was balled up on the floor laughing histarically. The next picture showed Micky on the couch with his arm's around Tommy, who was curled up in his lap, both smiling nicely for the camera. Another showed all of them but Davy up close to the camera, making gross faces for the audience! Peter laughed as he turned to the next picture, whare he saw Mike hugging Tommy tightly from behind and smiling stupidly as Tommy laughed. Another showed Davy, Tommy, and Peter standing with their arm's over each other's shoulder's, with Tommy in the middle, smiling nicely. Micky stoud behind smiling stupidly and giving Davy and Peter bunny-ear's with his fungers. The next showed Tommy riding on Davy's back, and Davy pretending like she's lighter than a feather, but it show's in his face that she's not quite that light. Peter flipped to the next one to see himself sitting on the chaise lounge, his knees arched up in front of him, with his arm's around Tommy, who sat inbetween his leg's, leaning against him, both smiling nice for the camera. Peter sat and looked at this picture for a long time, his mind floating back to those simple two month's that had seemed to change all their lives. We never did find out whare she came from, Peter thought with a quiet sigh. He had considered many times that she hadn't come from anywhare, like she had just been meant to be with them for that short period of time. But most of the time he bet his beliefs on his second answere to the mistery of her appearence. She was an angel. Yes, Peter knew it sounded crazy, but it seemed true enough. He remembered that Tommy had ounce asked Peter if he believed in God, and after a little thinking, he realized that he did believe in God. And it was obvious that she believed, so maybe it was true. Maybe God sent Tommy to them, but why? That was one of the few thing's that Peter still hadn't figured out. They had discovered long ago why Jackie and Charlie were after them. It seem's that Tommy had witnessed a murder they had committ, and when they saw her, they tried to kill her, too. But Micky and Mike saved her, obviously. Well, they got what they wanted in the end, Peter scowled out of hatred for them both. He jumped suddenly at the sound of the phone, and he reached over to pick it up off of the night stand. "Hello?" "Hiya, Pete!" Micky shorused on the other end, and Peter smiled. "Oh, hi Micky!" He greeted cheerily. "Watcha doin'?" Micky asked, prying his nose into thing's as usual, Peter thought with a silent snicker. "Oh, nothing. Just looking at some old stuff." Peter replied. "What kinda stuff?" Micky asked, and Peter rolled his eye's. He wasn't sure if telling Micky that he was going through stuff of Tommy's would be a very good idea. It was a very touchy subject for Micky. "Just stuff." Peter answered quickly, a little too quickly, and Micky got suspicous. "Peteeeeeeer, are you hiding something from me?" Micky asked, taking on a very motherly tine, which made Peter smile. "Of course not, mother dear." He replied. "Come on, man. Just tell me?" Micky pleaded, back to his normal voice. "I was just looking through a box." Peter answered, trying not to go any further than that. "Box of what?" Micky asked. "Micky, did you call to purposely bug me, or do you want something?" Peter asked, slightly laughing. "Actually, I do. Mike and Isabel want us all to get together tonight and go see a movie or something. I already called Davy and Cathrine and they're comin' if they can get a sitter, and me'n Mags are comin'. How'bout it?" Micky asked. "This isn't another one of your guys' trick's to set me up with some girl again is it?" Peter asked, accusingly. "What!? Why Peter, I'm hurt that you would make such an accusation-" "Micky!" Peter warned. "No, no. Davy couldn't find someone he thought you'd like, so you're lucky this time." Micky laughed. "But anyway, what's in yer box?" Crud, Peter thought, he didn't forget. "Nothing, Micky, really." He said, but Micky didn't buy it. "You tell me or I'm driving over there right now to see what it is." Micky said. "I'll lock the door's." Peter stated bluntly. "I'll break them down." Micky stated very metter-of-factually. "Yeah right, you could break a glass cup!" Peter laughed. "Hey!!" Micky yelled, then there was a pause and Peter could hear him talking to someone in the background. "That was Mags," He said, returning to his conversation with Peter. "What'd she say?" Peter asked. "She asked why I was yelling, and when I told her, she said she agreed with you, which she's going to regret!" He said the last part loud and off in the distanse, and Peter laughed. "Do you really want to know that bad?" Peter asked. "Yes, I do. What's in the box?" Micky demanded, and Peter hesitated before actually saying what was inside. "Tommy's stuff." There was a long pause on the other end as Peter knew there probably would be. "Oh." Micky said, not laughing anymore. "Um....Pete?" "Yeah?" Peter replied. "Are Davy's pictures in there?" "Sure are." Peter answered. "Can....I mean, do you think you could maybe bring me a picture or two? 'Cause, ya know, I don't have any and-" "Sure, Micky. I'd be glad to give you a picture." Peter said, cutting him off. "Thank's, Pete." Micky replied. "I'll bring it tonight, whare are we meeting?" Peter asked. "I'm not sure, Isabel said she and Mike know, but they won't tell. It's supposed to be a surprise." "Oh, ok. I'll just come to your house around five or so, does that sound good?" "Sound's like a plan t'me!" Micky exclaimed. "Ok, I'll see ya later, Mick." Peter said, about to hang up the phone. "Peter!?" Micky said before he was out of ear shot. "Yeah?" Peter asked, putting the phone back against his ear. "Erm...could you bring the..uh....the penguin?" Micky asked hesitantly, and Peter smiled. "Ok, Micky." He said. "Thank's, Peter. See ya later." Micky said, and Peter hung up the phone. He looked back at the picture he held in his hand, the one of him and Tommy on the chais loung, and set it aside. Then he sifted through the pile and pulled out the one of Micky and Tommy on the couch to give to Micky, then he pulled out a bunch of other various pictures and placed them in a small pile on the bed before putting everything else but the shell back in the box. Peter stoud in the living room, which had been rearanged somewhat over the year's, and overlooked his work. Hanging on the wall was he and Tommy's painting, now framed. The amazing mess of color's and the three hand print's. surrounding the painting all the way around were small picture frames containing photo's from the box. One of all of them on the bandstand. One of Davy, Peter, and Tommy, with Micky giving them bunny ear's in the background. One of Mike hugging Tommy from behind and smiling stupidly. One of Peter and Tommy holding up their painting. One whare Peter held Tommy in his arm's. One whare all but Davy are making gross faces. One whare Tommy rides on Davy's back. And the one right above the painting whare Peter sit's on the chais lounge, with his arm's around Tommy, who is sitting inbetween his arched leg's, smiling nicely for the camera. Peter smiled with satisfaction as he lifted his jacket from the couch and headed out the front door. THE END CREDITS: FEATURED SONGS: I'm a believer Last train to Clarksville Your Auntie Grizelda Mary, Mary Lauph You just may be the one She Saterday's child Look out, here come's tomorrow Pillow Time ENDING SONG: Nine Times Blue My other stories: MONKEES: If Winds Turn Time When the first hurricane of Davy's life hit's Malibu, California, everything turns from Heaven to Hell in one day. Along side a 11 year old blind boy Davy had found in the park the day before, Davy is determined to believe that everything will go back to normal. But being 19 and the only one alive and physically capable of running the house isn't as easy as it sound's for Davy as he realizes that he's going to have to deal with life, death, and change all over again. Personality Flops This is a short story about how thing's might have been had the personalities of the Monkees been switched around. Guess who's the charming Ladies Man now? The Error Of His Ways This is a story about the day that Davy Jones learns how much getting dumped by another can hurt, and also learns just how many people he must have hurt in the past. One Man Shy Micky is determined to get Peter Tork to go on a date, or at least TALK to a girl! And when he find's that his girlfriend has a friend just like Peter, it's as if he's finally accomplishing his mission, almost. OTHERS: My Titanic This is a story about four friends who rode 3rd class on the Titanic, only to find out many thing's that they never knew before that trip. It was almost as if the ship had turned everything around for two people. Fly With Me This is a movie script about a young girl with some very gifts, but when her "powers" are discovered, caos reins in her life. Having no mother, and with the sudden and un-explainable lose of her father, she is being faught for custidy over by a man who want's nothing more than to test her like a freak, and another man who wants to keep her away from harm and in a place whare she can be safe, and it's not an easy battle. Zombified Glory This was inspired to me by another story I read. It's about Zombies, if you havent guessed. Peer Pressure This is a story about how two people try to deal with their problems alone, and it doesn't turn out too well. They later discover that their other friend's were right, if they just trust in God and do what they know is right, everything will turn out for the best. I Don't Want The World To See Me This is a series I just started writing not long ago, so I havent gotten very far. Some thing's just can't be explained when you're missing child is found in a van by the side of the road, and her kidnappers are laying on the road unconcious or in too much pain to try and escape. Or when a women, victom of abuse, says she couldn't tell who was saving her, but whoever it was dissapeared once she was safe. Who is this shadow? )*23FGEF*+tu9:ÿ{wsokg]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c& ! UVÿ{wsokg]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c&&'   ''((I-J-2222E2F2G299>>T@U@ÿ{wsokg]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c&U@ A AlCmCDDGGGG0I1I}J~J~RJTKTVVvYwYxYyYYYY\\\ddekfk.p/p_r`rarÿ{wsokg]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c&arXsYsxxx~~mno&'klœÜ$%%lmnoÿ{wsokg]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c&Щѩ{|}`a78@A()?@A6ÿ{wsokg]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c&678WX$% mn<=TUV  "# ÿ{wsokg]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c&  l m n   %&'67hijkl01uvÿ{wsokg]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c&stxy n!o!###$$8,9,[,\,],--11112ÿ{wsokg]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c&222V2W2g2h255(5)555555r6s6=<><?<@@@IAJAEEEHHXYmnOP_ÿ{wsokg]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c&_`KLM12()QRST23JKLÿ{wsokg]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c&L'(23\]rs        345ÿ{wsokg]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c&MN12? @ v w         @!A!b!c!x!y!ÿ{wsokg]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c&y!!!!!"";"<"V"W"e"f"""""""""##1#2#=#>#F$G$Y$Z$e$f$$$$$ % %ÿ{wsokg]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c& %&&&&&((( ())))G+H+a+b+c+++,,p,q,X-Y-v1w11111122+5,56ÿ{wsokg]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c&66x9y9;;<<==&='=>>>>|?}???^@_@@@AAGBHBBB3C4CqCrCCCCCCÿ{wsokg]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c&CVGWGGGHHHHIIKKOOOiQjQtQuQQQRRRR'T(TXX]]]]6^7^8^``ÿ{wsokg]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c&`aaaatbubbb,e-e.effllppp"v#vAvBvCvww0x1xxx{{4|5|f|g||||ÿ{wsokg]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c&||~~~~͂΂./RSklŅƅ΅υÿ{wsokg]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c&Ɔdžކ߆<=CDZ[\]MNÿ{wsokg]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c&ޕߕbcjkƗǗ`aΜϜstڠ۠./0!"*+ʮˮÿ{wsokg]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c&ˮghi,--EFij    ÿ{wsokg]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c& fgg     | } ~ !!!)ÿ{wsokg]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c&)))=/>/333333455=???(G)GHGIGIO Q Q QiXjXXXXXXXYYaqcrcÿ{wsokg]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c&rcjjjoorrr1t2tlwmwwwbc|}XYZ[ӍԍՍՕ01͜Μÿ{wsokg]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c&!",-'(]^-.HIbcCÿ{wsokg]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c&CDͰΰϰӸԸո89ijƾǾ̾;ݾ޾:;XYstÿ{wsokg]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c&t~pq    fgh ÿ{wsokg]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c&FGHIvwx  OP"# STÿ{wsokg]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c&T34cdeno!!Y"Z"""##2$3$:$;$''''(())**p+q+=.>.?.}/~/ÿ{wsokg]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c&~/l2m23 3-4.4/4?4@499<<|=}===>> ?!?;?????AAA]C^C~CCCC Dÿ{wsokg]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c& D DODPDEEHHJJ N NQQQQQQQ'R(RWRXRRRRUUUUPVQVsVtVWW)W*W+Wÿ{wsokg]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c&+W,W1W2W3WSXTXYYY^[_[`[[[[]]]^^^n_o_p_______5a6a7abbb\c]cÿ{wsokg]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c&]c^c[e\e]e g!g"gnioipi j jjjkk!n"n6o7opprrrrItJtttuuvvKwLw7x8xÿ{wsokg]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c&8xyyyyzzz{{{||~~~~78]^^  @Awxyz{ÿ{wsokg]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c&{ÒĒ=>yzՓ֓*+CDEFMNOWXYijxyÿ{wsokg]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c&ѕҕՕ֕./0ABCKLM_`ٖږ()QR{|{vqlgb]]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c]c#|ϗЗ#$?@ARSz{ǘȘ01XYþ}xsnid_Z]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc!9:de͚̚CDlm|}þ}xsnid_Z]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc!}~ߛBCno˜̜'(456EFvwþ}xsnid_Z]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc!LM۞ܞ  /0hiٟڟ+,cdvwþ}xsnid_[W]c]c]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc]bc"]c]c]c]c]c]c]c*3GF+u: ! V'  '(J-222F2G29>U@ AmCDGG1I~JKTVwYwYxYyYYY\\dfk/p`rarYsxx~no'lÜ%mnoѩ|}a8A)@A78X% n=UUV # m n  &'7ikl1vty o!##$9,\,],-111222W2h25)5555s6><?<@@JAEEH=OO0SKSLSS7UUU7WWdX ___;`aacIfVfWfjjrlsllnopprvv#wox|||@|A|B}}R~~~p34PSl$$88B~ѣң ӭԭ{ȯճߵ_  01A&:; }gn(8qz>YnP`LLM2)RT3KL(3]s    45N22@ w     A!c!y!!!"<"W"f"""""#2#>#G$G$Z$f$$$ %&&&( ())H+b+c++,q,Y-w111122,56y9;<='=>>}??_@@AHBB4CrCCCCWGGHHHIKOOjQuQQRR(TX]]]7^8^`aaubb-e.e.eflpp#vBvCvw1xx{5|g|||~~΂/Slƅυdž߆=D[\]NߕckǗaϜt۠/0"++ˮhi-Fj gg   } ~ !!)>/3333345??)GIG Q QjXXXXYrcjjorr2tmwwc}YZ[ԍՍ1Μ"-(^.IcDΰϰԸո9jǾ;;޾;Ytq  ghGHIwx P#TT4deo!Z""#3$;$''()*q+>.?.~/m2 3.4/4/4@49<}==>!????AA^CCC DPDEHJ NQQQQQ(RXRRRUUQVtVW*W+W,W2W3WTXYY_[`[[[[]]^^o_p____6a7abb]c^c\e]e!g"goipi jjkk"n7oprrJttuvLw8xyyz{{|~~8^ Axz{Ē>z֓+DEFNOXYjyҕ֕/0BCLM`ږ)R|ЗЗ$@AS{Ș1Y:e͚Dm}~Co̜(56FFwMܞ 0iڟ,dwQ"QK@Normala "A@"Default Paragraph Font@ FMicrosoft Word 6.0 Document MSWordDoc9q