He loved watching her sleep, especially early in the morning when things were still quiet. That didn't last long so he had quickly learned to appreciate those moments. They had been together four months and there were still times when he found it hard to believe that she was still with him.

He gently brushed a lock of her hair away from her face and kissed her cheek. She stirred, but did not awaken. "I love you, Ellen," he whispered, but still she did not awaken.

He remembered a dream he'd had the night before, a curious dream that troubled him. It had been about two children, a boy and a girl, about age eleven or twelve. They were on a farm and it was Springtime. Somehow, he recognized the children as him and Ellen, although upon waking up, he found it strange.

They had been playing and she was running, yelling, "Catch me, Marc." He ran after her, but she always managed to stay just ahead of him. Finally, he caught up with her and as she turned to face him, he knew something between them had changed.

Then he woke up. He knew he had to write it all down before he forgot so he could tell Ana about it. She was good at figuring out things like that. Somebody had to have the answers and maybe it was her.

Ellen woke and turned to Mike. "Good morning," she said. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah," he said. He wasn't sure if he should tell her his dream. It was too hard to explain. "Did you?"

"Eventually," she said with a smile. "Despite the bad food, the bad service, and seeing all those people, it was a pretty good birthday."

"I'm glad you liked it," Mike said. _I really should tell her._ "Uh, I think we need to talk. Something happened that I need to tell you about."

"What?" she asked, very concerned. _Bad news, please no bad news._

Before he could answer, the phone rang. "That's probably my mother," Ellen said, reaching for the phone. "We can talk in a few minutes."

"I'll be in the shower," Mike said and headed for the bathroom.

She picked up the phone. "Hello? ...Oh, hi, Joey.... No, it's just that I was hoping it would be my mother... No, my birthday was yesterday, you always were terrible with dates...Yes, I meant that in many ways... I can't break my contract with you, I've already tried. Otherwise I would be gone... How about a movie this time, Joey? I think I'm ready... I've already been to New York, I lived there in 1964. I don't want to do it again... No, I'm busy tonight... Wait, I better go, there's somebody at the door... No, he's in the shower. Goodbye, Joey." She hung up the phone. "Drop dead, Joey."

She put on her robe and went to answer the door. _I wonder who it is. Whoever it is, it better be important._ She opened the door to find her mother standing there. "Oh, hi Mom," she stammered. "What are you doing here?"

"Do I need an excuse to visit my baby?" Judy Farnsby asked her daughter. "I'm sorry I missed your birthday, I was hoping we could go out to breakfast or something and catch up. It's been so long since we've done that."

"Sure, Mom, that sounds great," Ellen said. "Does it have to be this morning? I just got up and I have a million things to do today and..."

The bedroom door opened and Mike emerged fresh from his shower and wearing only a towel. "Have you seen my razor?" he asked, then he noticed Ellen wasn't alone. _Uh oh._ Looking down, he was relieved to see that the towel was securely tied and hopefully would stay on. He didn't need to do anything else to embarrass himself or Ellen right then. He noticed she was blushing and under any other circumstance he would have thought it cute. Right now he just wanted to get out of there.

Ellen felt her cheeks grow warm and wished she had a rock to hide under. She would have told her mother that Mike was there, but she hadn't told her mother about him yet. She hadn't really meant to put it off, she had just been busy. She was in trouble.

Judy stared at the man, not sure how to react. She had trusted Ellen, had done her best to be a good mother and now it was all for nothing. There was a wet, naked man standing in front of her and for once she was speechless. And very upset with her daughter.

Several seconds passed and everyone grew more uncomfortable. No one said anything, but it was clear that there would be questions later. Finally, Mike said, "I think I remember where I left it." He quickly went back to the bathroom.

"Who was that?" Judy asked, making an unsuccessful attempt to control her anger. "Maybe your father and I should have kept a closer eye on you these last few years. I knew it was a mistake to let you move out here."

Ellen wasn't sure how to react. She knew she should have told her parents sooner about Mike, but she just never found the right time. "That's Mike," she said.

"Does he live here or just stop by for a shower?" Judy asked.

"No, he doesn't live here," Ellen said. "He has his own place, it's just that he has three roommates and it's a small house and I'm not a little girl anymore, Mom. I can take care of myself."

"I thought I raised you better than that, Ellen Jennifer. What would your father think if he knew you'd taken up with some long haired boy you met God only knows where? He'd be very upset. Why didn't you tell us before?"

"Mom, please calm down. I meant to tell you, I just never got around to it. I've been busy working and I was sick and besides, I wanted to tell you in person, but I sometimes I don't know where you are. I didn't know you went to Spain until I got a postcard from you."

"That's no excuse, Ellen," Judy said.

"Please give him a chance, Mom," Ellen pleaded. "He's a nice person, I'm sure you'll like him once you get to know him."

Judy seemed to think about it for a few moments. "Okay, he can come to breakfast with us."

Ellen hugged her mother. "Thank you," she said.

Mike reemerged wearing a black t-shirt, jeans, and his hat. "I guess I best get goin'," he said. "The guys are probably wondering where I am. Besides, I'm sure you two have things to do without me." He started for the door.

Ellen stopped him. "Don't go, Mike. Mom is taking us to breakfast."

"Okay," Mike said. "I really didn't have any other plans for today anyway. The guys are probably still asleep and they know where I am anyway. I'll stay."

"I'm going to go take a shower," Ellen said. "You two get acquainted." She started for the bathroom.

"Ellen, I think you're forgetting something," Judy said.

Ellen turned to her mother. "What?"

"Introductions, dear. Good manners, remember?" Judy said and no one, especially Mike, missed the bit of snobbishness.

"Oh, sorry," Ellen said. "Mike, this is my mother, Judy. Mom, this is Mike Nesmith. I'll be in the shower."

There was an awkward silence for what seemed like several minutes as Mike and Judy were left alone when Ellen went to take a shower. Finally, Judy couldn't stand it any longer. "So, you've been dating my daughter and this is the first I've heard of it. Just how long have you two been dating?"

"About four months now, I guess," Mike said. The day was turning out to be a bad one. First that dream and now this. What next? "I'm surprised she didn't tell you before. I've heard a lot about you. Nice to finally meet you."

"Unfortunately, Mr. Nesmith, I have not heard anything about you from my daughter," Judy said.

"Well, that's not my fault," Mike said. "I'm sure Ellen was going to tell you about me, she just never got around to it. She's been very busy lately. You should be very proud of her, she' s very talented."

"In what way?" Judy asked.

"What do you mean by that?" Mike asked, shocked that she would ask such a question.

"You know what I mean," Judy said. "It doesn't take a genius to figure out what happened here last night. Ellen used to be such a good girl."

"I think you should be talking to her about that, not me," Mike said. _I do not like this woman and she doesn't like me. I want to go home._ "Times change, people change, but you can be sure of one thing. I love your daughter very much and I would never do anything to hurt her."

She started to say something, but before she could, Ellen came out. "I'm ready to go," she said. Judy and Mike didn't say anything. "Everything okay here?" she asked, concerned.

"I'm fine," Mike said.

"Me, too," Judy said.

"Good, let's go," Ellen said. "I'm starved. Last night's dinner wasn't exactly filling."

Later, at the restaurant...
Mike felt out of place the second they entered the restaurant. It was a high priced fancy place like the ones he had always dreamed of being able to go to, but never had the money to. Now that he was in one, he wanted to leave. He felt like a bum in his t-shirt and jeans. He expected the waiter to ask him to leave, but he didn't. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that people were staring at him. He wanted to explain that he didn't always dress like that, it was just that those were the clothes he kept at Ellen's for the rare occasions when he spent the night with her.

Then he realized what was happening. Judy was trying to embarrass him in front of Ellen by going to someplace fancy. It wasn't going to work. He could play her game if need be.

Ellen saw he was nervous and took his hand in hers. "Don't let it get to you, Mike," she whispered so only he could hear. "Mom just doesn't want to admit that I'm an adult now and can take care of myself."

"She doesn't like me," Mike said.

"I know that, but give her a chance. She's my mother."

"Okay, just as long as she doesn't ask too many embarrassing questions."

"She won't," Ellen assured him.

She was wrong.

As soon as they were seated and the waitress had taken their orders, Judy started asking questions. She asked how they met and gave her the condensed version. No need to tell her everything.

"What do you do for a living, Mike?" Judy asked.

He wanted to say, I look for work, but he figured that would not be the answer she wanted to hear. "I'm a musician," he said. "Small time right now, but we work pretty steady."

"We?"

"I'm in a band with some friends. I play guitar and I've written a lot of our songs," Mike told her.

"They're very good," Ellen said. "You should hear them sometime, Mom."

"I don't think so," Judy said. "Today's music does not appeal to me. Tell me, Mike, do you expect to be able to make a living that way?"

"Well, people do," Mike said. "Besides, we work pretty steady sometimes and word does get around."

"When was the last time you worked?" Judy asked.

It took a few moments to answer. "About two weeks ago, I guess," Mike said, trying to hide his embarrassment. "We played at a party, I think. After a while they all sort of blur together. All the same anyway. Bunch of teenagers, mostly girls, all screaming."

"Just how much money do you make at these parties?" Judy asked.

"Well, I don't really know," Mike said, growing more and more uncomfortable. "There's four of us so we usually split the money, plus we have to set aside some for rent and stuff. Why are you asking these questions?"

"I just don't think you have the right kind of background for my daughter," Judy said.

"Mom, please don't do this," Ellen said. "I don't care about money. I'm not like you." She turned to Mike. "I'm sorry about this. I think we should leave."

Mike didn't say anything, he was too mad. He sat, nervously twisting a napkin in his hand. It was the only thing that kept him from hitting somebody.

Judy, however, did not control her temper. "I thought I taught you better, Ellen Jennifer. Can't you see the truth? He's not like us. You deserve better."

_Jennifer?_ Mike thought. _Her middle name is Jennifer? I knew there was a reason she seemed familiar. This is weird._

"The only truth I see is that you can't accept him. It doesn't matter to me what he does or how much money he has," Ellen said. "I love him and that's all that really matters. I'm leaving." She got up and headed for the door.

Mike stood up. "Well, I would say it was nice to meet you, but I'm an honest person. I'm glad she doesn't take after you. Goodbye." He left.

Judy sat alone at the table, quietly thinking over what had just happened. It wasn't easy being a mother. She worked hard to make sure her daughter went to the best schools, met all the right people, and followed the social rules, but it had all been for nothing. Her daughter had still done everything wrong. _I never should have let her go to New York,_ she thought. _That was the beginning of all this._ Maybe if she hadn't gone to New York she wouldn't have wanted to be an actress, she wouldn't have moved to California, and she definitely wouldn't have met that boy. She was a failure as a mother.

Mike found Ellen in the parking lot standing next to her mother's car, clearly debating if she should leave or not. He walked up behind her and gently turned her to face him. He gently wiped away a tear from her cheek and pulled her close to him. He held her and let her cry, not caring that she was getting his shirt wet. He wanted to say something to comfort her, but he didn't know what to say. He wanted to ask her about New York, but this was not the right time. He didn't say anything, the time would come later to talk. For now she just needed him to hold her.

When she was finished crying, she pulled away from him. "I'm sorry," she said.

"For what?"

"For the way my mother treated you. I should have warned you."

"It's not your fault," he assured her. "It just got started off wrong. I think it wouldn't have been so bad if I had been wearing clothes or I had known she was going to be there."

"I should have told her before about us. Then it wouldn't have been so bad."

"You can't change the past, Ellen," he told her. "We'll make it through this, just like we have other things." He gently cupped her face in his hands and kissed her, a soft, tender kiss that he hoped would assure her that it didn't matter to him how her mother felt as long as they still had each other. He pulled away. "Feel better?" She nodded. "Good. What do you want to do now?"

"I want to go home," she said.

"Okay, I'll take you home."

"No, I want to go to your place today. I don't want to see her again today."

"Okay, I don't think the guys will mind you hangin' with us today. It's not too far to your place so we can walk to get the car."

Hand in hand, they walked the few blocks to her apartment building. She was quiet and this bothered Mike. "Are you sure you're okay," he asked.

"Yes, I'm fine," she answered. "This morning you said you needed to tell me something. What was it?"

It took him a several seconds to remember what it was. "Oh, that," he said, "it wasn't important. I'll tell you later."

For some reason she didn't believe him. His attitude earlier had been that it was important. Now he was acting differently. She didn't like him keeping secrets from her, but she knew this was not the best time to pressure him about it. There would be plenty of time later.

~*~

The air was thick with smoke and the smell of death. The battle had been going on for a day now and didn't seem to be ending anytime soon. Blood from the dead and dying had soaked the ground and overflowed onto his boots, staining them. He knew he was lucky to have boots. Many of the men were barefoot and were taking the shoes off the dead for themselves.

He closed his eyes, trying to block out the scene of destruction around him, but the screams of the dying refused to be ignored. He longed to be home again with his wife and son. He hated being away with the baby due so soon. He just wanted all of this madness to end so he could go on with his life.

He had joined the fighting because he felt it was the right thing to do. He believed in the Southern Cause and of course he had been promised the fighting would only last a few months at the most. They would beat the Yankees and then go back home and they would be free. He had long since stopped believing the war would be over soon or that they would ever be free.

He heard someone approach and he heard the gun. It was too late. He opened his eyes just as the bullet slammed into his chest, knocking him to the ground. _Please don't let me die,_ he pleaded. _I've got too much to live for._

He knew it was too late. There was too much blood. He could smell it, an all too familiar smell as of late. He had seen Death before, had killed plenty in his life, animals mostly, but was changes things. He didn't want to die. He wanted to be back home with his family. He thought of his wife, her beautiful eyes shining with love for him, her sweet kisses, and nights alone after their son was asleep. He thought of his son, the boy who trusted him, who looked up to him. He thought of his sister and her wedding the year before. She was happy now and lucky for her husband had somehow avoided the war. And he thought of the child not yet born, the child he would most likely not live to see.

The pain was almost unbearable yet still he hoped he wouldn't die. He knew it was foolish to hope. It was too late. He could taste the blood, slick and salty, almost like ocean water, only thicker. _I don't want to die. I have too much to live for. I have too many people who need me and love me._ He saw a shadow and looked to see a man standing over him, gun aimed. The only thing different about him was the color of his uniform. And his eyes. They were cold and uncaring. The man was going to kill him. He heard the gun fire and saw the smoke. _No!_ And then everything went dark.

Mike jerked awake, the scream dying in his throat. He looked around, almost surprised to find himself not on a battlefield, but on the couch in the guestroom. He was still dressed except for his boots and hat. He had no idea why he would be asleep in the guestroom. He didn't even remember going to sleep. It was still dark outside so he guessed it was probably early morning. He stood up and carefully made his way to the light switch by the door. He turned it on and checked his watch. It was 5:30 a.m., which meant everybody upstairs was still asleep. They probably didn't even notice he wasn't there.

Part of him wanted to go upstairs and go back to sleep, but he was afraid he might have the dream again or maybe a worse one. This was becoming a more frequent occurrence and it was really starting to bother him. He hadn't told anybody about them, but he was thinking about telling Ana. She would understand more than anybody else. It was 7:30 in Texas and she was probably awake. Maybe he should give her a call.

Just then the phone rang and he knew it was her. She was the only person who would dare call this early and he knew he better answer it before it woke up everybody else. He quietly made his way to the kitchen and picked up the phone. "Hello."

"I was right," Ana said.

"About what?" he asked. "And do you do this to everybody or just me?"

"I do it to Will, too," Ana said. "It doesn't scare him."

"It doesn't scare me, either, just, uh, nothing. What were you right about?"

"You had another dream." She said it so calmly, as if they were discussing the weather instead. She acted like it was a perfectly normal occurrence, which to her, it probably was.

"Yeah, I did," he said, knowing he didn't sound as calm as Ana. "Wait, how did you know it wasn't the first?"

"I know these things," she said.

"I guess you have a theory about all this?"

"Yeah, but you're not ready to hear it yet."

"What makes you say that?" he asked, even though he knew it was true. He just needed to hear it from her.

"I know you too well, Robert Michael. All in due time."

"I hate it when you call me that," he said.

"It's your name."

"I know, but the only time I ever got called that was when I was in trouble. I don't like to use that name."

"You have before."

"I don't want to talk about that," he said. Not now. He still hadn't asked Ellen about it and he didn't intend to anytime soon.

"Okay, we won't talk about that. So, how's Ellen? Is that a safe subject?"

"She's fine, it's her mother that I have a problem with."

"Why do I get the feeling there's something you're not telling me?"

"Because there is," he said and told her about meeting Ellen's mother.

"A towel?" Ana said when he was finished. She was laughing so much she barely got the words out.

"Well, it wasn't an intentional thing. If I had known she was going to show up, I wouldn't have stayed."

"I guess you don't want me to tell your mother about that, do you?"

"No, don't tell her about that. I tell her what she needs to know about my personal life."

"Have you told her about Ellen?"

"Of course I have, just not every detail. She said she wants to meet her."

"Does that mean you might be coming home soon?" Ana said, unable to contain her excitement.

"I don't know yet," he said. "I'll have to talk to Ellen about it and pick a time when we're not busy. I'll let you know. I really want her to meet you."

"I want to meet her, too," Ana said. "Hey, it's almost eight o'clock here. I really need to go. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Yeah, later. Bye, Ana"

"Bye. Oh, let me know if you have any more of those dreams."

"I will," he said and hung up the phone. Talking to Ana usually made him feel better, but this morning it only confused him more. He knew there was something she wasn't telling him and he wanted to know what it was.

Upstairs, he heard a door open and footsteps. He turned to see Micky standing at the top of the stairs. "What are you doing here?" Micky asked.

"I live here," Mike replied.

"Yeah, I know that, but I didn't know you were here. I saw your bed was empty and I thought you..."

"You thought I was with Ellen, right? Not tonight."

"Then where did you sleep?"

"In the guest room."

Micky didn't even bother to question that one. "Did I hear the phone?"

"Yeah, it was Ana."

"Isn't it a bit early?"

"Yeah, almost six, but it's two hours later there. Go back to bed, everything's okay here."

"Okay," Micky said, yawning and went back the bedroom.

Mike stared at the phone, debating whether or not he should call Ellen. It was early and she was probably asleep, but he really needed to talk to her. He needed to be with her, to assure himself that everything was okay. That dream had affected him more than he thought. He picked up the receiver and started to dial, but stopped before he finished dialing. He decided to wait a while and then go see her. She'd be awake within an hour. That would give him time to think about what to tell her.

~*~

It was a few hours later and he was at Ellen's. She had fixed breakfast despite his protests that he wasn't hungry. He had finally given in when he realized that it would give him more time to think about just how to tell her what was going on. He loved her, he trusted her, he just didn't know how to explain the recent turn of events. He didn't understand what was going on, so how could he expect her to understand them?

Something was wrong, Ellen realized as she watched Mike push the food around on his plate with his fork. She knew she wasn't the greatest cook in the world, but he had never complained. She had even cooked his eggs with cheese, his favorite. The toast was a little burned and the coffee a bit weak, but that didn't explain why he was acting so strange. He wasn't happy about something and she hoped it wasn't her. Lately it had seemed that things had gotten a little routine, dinner, an occasional movie, hanging out with the guys and one or two nights a week he spent the night with her. The most exciting thing to happen lately was when her mother had visited, but they hadn't talked about that. They hadn't talked about much of anything lately. Maybe he was bored with her. It happened to people. It had happened with Joey. She didn't want to lose Mike. She loved him too much to give up just because things had gotten a little boring.

She reached across the table and touched his hand. He started at the unexpected contact and she could see the truth in his eyes. He wasn't bored, he was scared. She knew fear when she saw it. Years of study had taught her to recognize emotions and she knew he wasn't faking. Some wise person had once said that the eyes are the mirror to the soul and they were right. Something had happened and she wanted to know what it was. Seeing the pain in his eyes made her ache with a need to make it go away, to see him smile again. She reached for his hand again and this time he didn't pull away. Their fingers intertwined in a symbol of unity and strength. "What's wrong?" she asked. "Please tell me. I want to help you."

He had to tell her now. She might not understand it or believe him, but at least he would have told someone. Maybe then he would feel better. "I talked to Ana this morning," he said. "I had a strange dream and I was going to call you, but it was early and I thought you would be asleep. I didn't want to wake you up."

"So you called her instead?" Ellen asked. She tried not to sound angry, but it was hard. She had never been able to understand why he told Ana things he didn't tell her.

"No, I didn't call her," he said. "She called me. I guess somehow she knew something was going on and so I told her what happened."

"What did happen?"

"I told you, I had a strange dream."

"About what?"

He didn't say anything at first, just stared at their hands. Then he looked up at her. "It was about the war. I was fighting and I died."

No wonder he had been acting strange. She knew when she had bad dreams it affected her, but somehow it seemed like this went beyond an ordinary nightmare. "It's perfectly understandable," she said. "You see it on the news, it creeps into your mind, it's a scary thing. I understand."

"Not Vietnam," he said. "The Civil War. It's so real, I can feel everything and I can smell the dead bodies rotting and the blood. It's everywhere. And then I get shot and I'm dying and I'm thinking about you and Ana, but it's different. It's not the first time something like this has happened. I had another dream a few nights ago. We were children. I was going to tell you about it, but that was when your mother came by."

"What do you mean it's different?"

"I don't know how to explain it. In this dream I know this person. It's me, but it's not me. I know all about his family, his wife and his children, his sister, his friends. It's me and you and Ana and the guys. It's happened before."

"It's impossible," she said. "Things like that don't happen. It was just a dream."

"I knew you wouldn't understand," he said and pulled his hand away. He stood up and walked over to the door. "I'm sorry," he said, "but it's the truth. Maybe one day you'll believe me."

She sat and watched him walk out, trying to hold back the tears. She had tried to help him, but she had made it worse. It had scared her, his talk of war and blood and that it had happened before. She knew there was a strong bond between them, but she didn't like his explanation. Maybe it was best to let things calm down for a while, spend a little time apart and see how things went. Then they would know if it was real.

Two days later
"What's up with Mike?" Micky asked one morning at breakfast. Mike was still upstairs or so Micky thought. Otherwise he wouldn't have asked the question.

"What do you mean?" Davy asked.

"He has been acting strange the last few days," Peter said.

"How so?" Davy asked.

"He actually stays home," Micky said.

"What's so strange about that?"

"He hasn't been to see Ellen in a few days and she hasn't called," Micky explained.

"Do you think they had a fight?" Davy asked.

"I hope not," Peter said. "I really liked having her around. She was a good influence on Mike."

The conversation continued with much speculation as to what had happened.

Mike watched them from the top of the stairs. They probably thought he was still asleep or something. The truth was he hadn't slept much in the past two nights and when he did sleep, he dreamed about things he shouldn't. He dreamed about blood and war and death and a love strong enough to survive for all time.

He missed Ellen. Two days and he felt like his whole world was falling apart. He hadn't meant to hurt her, he just wanted her to understand how he felt. Maybe he had gone about it the wrong way, but it had helped him understand his dreams.

He hadn't told Micky, Peter, and Davy what had happened and they hadn't asked. Still, they knew something was wrong. He knew he should probably tell them. After all, if it hadn't been for them he and Ellen wouldn't have dated at all.

It seemed so stupid to throw away four wonderful months because of some bad dreams.

Downstairs, the conversation had turned to other areas of his relationship with Ellen.

"Do you think he's had to resort to cold showers yet?" Davy asked.

"It's only been two days?" Micky said. "It couldn't have gotten that bad in a few days."

"If she ever gets desperate, I'm available," Davy said.

"She'd have to be pretty desperate for that," Micky said.

"She's been with Mike all this time. She should be ready for a real man," Davy said.

"You've got the most amazing ego," Micky said. "Besides, we could be wrong about everything."

"Do you think they, uh, ever, well, you know?" Peter asked, blushing. Micky and Davy giggled, which made Peter blush even more.

"Not that it's any of your business, but yes, we did," Mike said, joining them in the kitchen.

"How did you-" Micky started to say.

"I heard the entire conversation," Mike said. "I was listening from the top of the stairs. You should be more careful next time."

Peter blushed again, Micky stammered out and apology, and Davy decided maybe it would be best if he went somewhere else for a while. Mike didn't try to stop him. There would be time later to talk.

When Micky finished eating he decided he needed to do some things in town and Davy was still down at the beach, so Peter and Mike were left alone.

"Hey Mike?"

"What, Peter?"

"Davy didn't mean what he said."

Mike didn't say anything at first. He had enough to worry about without Davy causing more problems. Davy did have an annoying habit of getting on his nerves and some of the things he'd said earlier would not help matters any. Just because girls usually feel for Davy was no reason for him to worry. Okay, so maybe he was a little worried. After all, until a week ago, things had been great between him and Ellen. Now everything was different. "Davy doesn't always think before he says something," Mike said.

"Mike, what happened with Ellen?" Peter asked. "Did you have a fight?"

"Not exactly," Mike said. He really didn't want to talk about what had happened, but he felt that perhaps Peter might be able to understand better than Micky or Davy.

"Then what did happen?" Peter asked.

That was it. Mike just couldn't take it anymore. "Damn it, Peter, do you have to be so nosy? If I had wanted you to know what happened, I would have told you."

Peter just sat there, stunned. He knew Mike had a temper. After all, he had known Mike longer than the others. Still, it had hurt when Mike yelled at him. "I'm sorry," he said, trying to hold back the tears. "I was just worried about you." Unable to hold back his tears any longer, Peter left the table and went upstairs to the bedroom.

"Damn," Mike muttered to himself as he watched Peter run away. He hadn't meant to hurt Peter. He just didn't want to hear anymore questions or have Peter feel sorry for him because of what had happened with Ellen. Peter hadn't meant to make him mad, he was just trying to be a good friend.

This was turning out to be the worst week of his life.

A few hours later
Davy had returned from the beach, but he was avoiding Mike, who was sitting on the couch playing his guitar. Peter had come downstairs and was fixing himself a sandwich. He had apologized to Mike about making him mad and Mike in turn had somewhat explained what had happened with Ellen. Things had calmed down considerably.

Micky returned around noon. "Hey guys, mail's here. Mostly bills. Who do we know in San Francisco?"

"Maybe it's just another bill," Peter said.

"I don't think so," Mike said, taking the letter from Micky. "It's from the Shady Palms Country Club. Maybe it's a job."

"A job? We haven't worked in weeks," Micky said with barely contained excitement.

"Open it," Peter said.

"Yeah, open it," Davy said.

"Okay, okay, everybody calm down," Mike said. He opened the letter and read it to himself.

"What is it?" Micky asked.

"Is it a job?" Peter asked hopefully.

Or maybe a contest?" Davy asked.

"This is very interesting," Mike said.

"What is?" Micky asked.

"This stamp," Mike said. "It's a peace symbol. See?" He passed the envelope around.

"Groovy," Micky said. "What did the letter say?"

"It says that Mr. Richards, owner of the Shady Palms Country Club, wishes to hire us for a one week engagement at the club, room and board provided and he'll pay us $1000. He needs us there tomorrow at 4:30."

"Wow, a $1000, that's enough money to pay the rent and have lots of money left over," Micky said. "This could be the big break."

"We already have the rent money," Mike said. "This means we get $250 a piece. That's a lot of money."

But no one heard him. They were already upstairs packing.

Mike couldn't sleep that night. He was thinking about what he could do with $250. He could afford to take Ellen out to a nice restaurant for once. Or maybe he could buy her a nice present to show her that he was sorry for the way he had acted earlier. He hadn't meant to upset her, he just wanted her to believe.

He knew if he didn't get to sleep soon he would never get up in time in the morning. They had to leave early so they could get to San Francisco in plenty of time. This job could be the beginning of big things for them and he wanted Ellen to be with him, but he hadn't told her they were going. Maybe the time apart would be good for them. He finally drifted off to sleep and begin to dream.

He was in a small cabin. The only light was from a lantern hanging on the wall. He paced nervously around the small room. He stopped in front of a door. He wanted to go in, but he wasn't sure if he should. He could hear crying and muffled voices on the other side. He wanted to go in and be with his wife. The first pains had come early that morning and now it was near midnight and still the child had not come. Something was wrong, he knew that much although no one had told him. The child was in danger. He could sense it.

The door opened and the doctor came out. "How is she?" he asked the doctor.

"Not good," the doctor said. "The baby is in the wrong position. She's bleeding badly. I'm afraid we may lose them both. You have to prepare yourself for that possibility."

From the other side of the door there came and agonized scream and a loud voice demanded, "Doc, get in here now."

The doctor went back in the room. He tried to follow, but the doctor wouldn't let him. He tried to wait patiently, but it was hard. He didn't want her or the baby to die. She was the only woman he had ever loved. They had met as children and he had loved her then. They had married as soon as she was old enough. That had only been two years ago. Now he might lose her and their child. _Please, dear God, don't take her from me,_ he prayed. _I need her and she needs me. She's my whole world and I don't want to lose her._

Suddenly he heard the faint sound of a baby crying. _Please let it be alright._

Ten long minutes later the doctor reemerged from the room, wiping his bloody hands on a towel. "It was difficult, but you have a healthy son. He has a good set of lungs, too. Your wife is doing good, too, although she will need to rest for a long time. I'll be checking in on her everyday."

He was so happy he wanted to scream. He shook the doctor's hand, not caring that it was bloody. "Thank you doc," he said. "May I go see them now?"

The doctor's face became sad. "There was another baby," he said. "A little girl. She didn't live but about a minute or two. I'm sorry, there was nothing that could be done. At least you have a healthy son and there will more children later. I can notify Mr. Peterson if you want me to."

"Yes, please do that," he said. Mr. Peterson was the mortician in town. They could bury the baby in the family plot next to his father and his baby brother. He remember when his brother had died, how devastated his mother had been. She hadn't wanted to get out of bed for weeks. He didn't want the same thing to happen to Julie.

"I'll stop by in the morning, Marc," the doctor said. "Tell Julie to take it easy, please. Be grateful, you have a healthy son."

"Thanks, doc. See you tomorrow."

The doctor left and he went in to see his wife. She was sleeping, but she did not look completely relaxed. She was probably still in pain from the delivery. "Does she know?" he asked the woman in the room. It was his sister, Angela.

"She knows about the boy, she saw him. We didn't tell her about the girl. She passed out when she delivered her. Would you like to see your son?"

"Yes," he said and she handed him a small bundle. He looked down at the tiny face of his son and he was filled with hope.

"He looks like you did when you were a baby," Angela said. "You had just a bit of dark hair like him."

"He's perfect," Marc said. The baby began to fuss and he handed him back to Angela. "I want to see the other one before Mr. Peterson gets here."

She laid the baby in the cradle and picked up the other baby. She handed it to him and he looked at her. She was perfect, beautiful just like Julie. Why hadn't she been allowed to live? It just wasn't fair. He wanted to cry, but didn't want Angela to think him weak. Still, looking down into the face of his dead daughter, he couldn't hold back the tears. "It's not fair," he said.

"What's not fair?" a male voice asked.

Mike opened his eyes and looked around. Peter was standing beside his bed. It was light outside and judging by the three empty beds everybody was awake. "Sorry, just talking in my sleep I guess," Mike said. "What time is it?"

"It's 9:00. Micky and Davy are already downstairs getting ready to go."

"Okay. I'll be done in a few minutes."

"You had a bad dream, didn't you?" Peter asked.

Mike didn't say anything, just nodded.

"I thought so," Peter said. "It's nothing to worry about. Everybody has bad dreams from time to time."

"Not like these, Pete," Mike said. "I've never had dreams like these. They're so real."

"Do you want to talk about them?"

"No, not right now. Maybe later."

"I understand," Peter said and went downstairs, leaving Mike alone to prepare for the day ahead.

Another dream, but this one was different. It was the same people, but this time he had names. He knew he had to write down as much as he could remember to tell Ana. She would ask specific questions and he wanted to be able answer them. He found a piece of paper and a pencil and wrote down the information. He took a shower and dressed all the while wondering how Ellen was holding up.

~*~

Ellen stared at the phone and wished for the millionth time that it would ring. Every time someone had called she had hoped it would be Mike. And every time she had been crushed when it wasn't him. Why didn't he call? Didn't he realize how much they needed each other? She'd had three days to think about what he had told her and while she still didn't totally believe, she knew he believed. Still, she couldn't help but wonder if it could be true. There was something familiar about the way he touched her, the way he kissed her, how she felt when they made love. She had never felt like that with anyone before, so alive, so free. No one but Mike. And Robert. She had felt that way with him, but she told herself it was because that had been the first time. It was supposed to feel that way. The past was past. She couldn't change it.

Should she call him? Would he even want to talk to her? He had seemed pretty upset when he left. Still, it had been three days. Maybe things had calmed down. She missed him and wanted to see him again. She wanted to assure him that everything was okay, that she still loved him. They could work out whatever the problem might be.

The phone rang.

~*~

They arrived in San Francisco at 4:00 and went to the Shady Palms Country Club to meet Mr. Richards and find out their schedule. Mr. Richards, a distinguished looking gentleman in his mid forties, told them they would play for an hour each night for five nights at eight o'clock and on the dance Saturday night, which was scheduled for 8:30 until midnight. They would also get an extra $500 dollars for that. He had already arranged for them to stay at the hotel next door and they were free to enjoy the club until it was time for them to set up that evening. He was even paying for room service.

"Thank you, Mr. Richards," Mike said. "This is very generous of you. Why did you pick us?"

"I've always had a good ear for music. My bother heard your act one day, he told me about it and I decided to check it out for myself. I loved it and I think the younger members will love it, too. See you back here at 7:30."

"Yes, sir, Mr. Richards."

"Very good," he said. "I'll see you then." He shook their hands and left.

"I like him," Davy said.

"There's got to be a catch somewhere," Mike said. "$1500 for so little work. That's $375 a piece."

"Don't worry about it, Mike," Micky said. "We need the money and maybe Mr. Richards will recommend us to his friends."

"Let's go to the hotel," Peter said. "I want rest before we have to play tonight."

"Pete, you slept most of the way here," Micky said. "How could you possibly be tired?"

"I wasn't asleep," Peter said. "It's hard to sleep in a car, especially the way you drive."

"I'm not a bad driver," Micky said. "I didn't see you volunteering to drive."

"Mike wouldn't let me," Peter said.

"Let's not start fighting," Mike said. "Let's just go to the hotel and put our stuff away and then we can have a look around."

"I hope there are lots of pretty girls here," Davy said as they entered the hotel lobby.

"Is that all you think about?" Mike asked.

"What else is there?"

"You're hopeless."

From the couch in the corner, the girl watched them. She already knew this was the band that would be playing at Shady Palms. Her mother was Mr. Richards' secretary and had helped make the arrangements. They were a nice looking bunch of guys, especially the tall one with the hat. He was obviously the leader. She liked men with a take charge attitude. She would definitely have to see them at the club tonight. Things could get very interesting. Maybe the summer wouldn't be a total waste after all.

The short one had noticed her and was trying to get her attention. She laughed at his attempts to flirt with her from a distance, but she was concentrating on someone else.

"Come on, Davy," the tall one said.

"But Mike, there's a girl over there. I think she likes me."

"Maybe she'll still be here in a few minutes. Right now we have other things to do."

They went down the hallway that led to the elevator.

So his name was Mike. Nice name, simple, easy to remember. And that accent. He sounded like somebody out of a western or something. She liked westerns.

~*~

"I think that girl downstairs was interested," Davy said as they were getting settled in their room. They had been given a suite, two rooms connected through the bathroom. There were two beds in each room. There had been much discussion on who got which room and they had decided to shoot for it. Davy and Micky got one room while Mike and Peter got the other.

"Davy, if your ego gets any bigger you won't be able to fit through the door," Micky said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Davy asked.

"It means if you meet a girl, don't bring her here," Mike said. "I don't want anybody causing any trouble while we're here. Understood?"

"Yes, Daddy," Micky said. "No girls."

"I'm not here to meet girls," Peter said.

"Maybe that girl is still downstairs," Davy said. "I'm going to go see."

"I'll go with you," Micky said. He and Davy left.

"I'm going to get something to eat," Peter said.

"Pete, you can just call room service," Mike said.

"I want to get something from the club. And then I guess I'll look around and find something to do."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, I'll be okay by myself. I'll find Micky and Davy and ask them to come with me. I'll see you later."

"Be careful," Mike said.

"I will," Peter said and left.

"He sure was in a hurry to get out of here," Mike said to himself. "And he didn't want me to go with him. He's up to something, I know it. What is it?" Mike sat down on the bed and looked around the room. He was alone in a strange city. His friends were off doing stuff and he was left with nobody to talk to. "That's it. He wants me to call Ellen." He picked up the phone and begin to dial her number.

Behind him he heard the door open and figured it was just Micky or Davy coming back to ask him if he wanted to go somewhere with them. Except they didn't wear perfume and he could smell it. "Hi, Mike," a very familiar voice said.

He hung up the phone and turned around. They had been set up. Again. He didn't say anything, didn't know what to say. Beautiful, she was so beautiful. The dress was new, a little low cut on top, short skirt. That was the new style. He liked it. It looked good on her. He'd give anything to see her out of it. The perfume was new, too. She had done this for him, the new dress, the new perfume, coming all the way here. That meant something. Finally, he found his voice. "I've missed you, Ellen."

~*~

"I've missed you so much," he whispered as he held her close to him. "These last few days have been terrible."

"I missed you, too," she said. It felt so good to have him hold her again. "I'm sorry for the way I acted."

"I shouldn't have gotten so upset with you," he said. "I just wanted you to believe me."

She didn't say anything, didn't really know what to say. She'd had a dream herself the night before. It had been so real but still she didn't feel ready to tell him about it. Later, maybe, but now was not the right time.

She started to say something, but he stopped her with a kiss, a deep, hungry kiss that she didn't want to end. She kissed him back with the same hungry passion. Nothing else mattered except this moment.

It ended all too soon. "How did you know I was here?" he asked.

"Peter called me," she said. "He told me where you were going and hinted that it would be a nice surprise if I decided to visit."

"Remind me to thank him later," he said and kissed her again, a little slower and sweeter, but just as passionate. He'd never wanted anything as much as he wanted her then. His searching fingers quickly found the zipper on her dress. He started to unzip it when the sound of footsteps in the hallway stopped him. He pulled away from her. "Maybe we shouldn't do this," he said. "What if they come back and catch us?"

"They won't be back anytime soon," Ellen said. "Peter assured me that we would have a few hours to ourselves. He's going to keep Micky and Davy occupied. We have nothing to worry about." Then, with a smile he would always remember, she kissed him and began to unbutton his shirt. "I suggest you finish what you started," she said.

He was happy to oblige.

~*~

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the hotel Davy was trying to find the girl again, but she seemed to have disappeared. "I think I'll go back to the room and help Mike unpack," he said to Micky and Peter.

"I'll go with you," Micky said. "It's boring down here."

"No!" Peter said. "You can't go to the room. You have to stay here for a little while longer."

"Why?" Micky asked.

"Yeah, why can't we go back to the room?" Davy asked.

"Uh, because Mike doesn't need any help unpacking. Well, he's not unpacking. He's doing something else, maybe, but he doesn't need any help," Peter said. "He's not alone."

"Peter, is there something you and Mike forgot to tell us?" Micky asked.

"Mike didn't know about it. It was all my idea," Peter said.

"What was your idea?" Davy asked.

"I invited Ellen to the hotel so she and Mike could work things out. I thought it needed to be done."

"There goes my chance," Davy said.

"She wouldn't go with you if you were the last man on earth," Micky told him. "I think that was a very nice thing you did, Peter. How long until we can go back to the room?"

"We can go back at 6:00. That will give us some time to plan for tonight's performance," Peter said. "I wanted to give them plenty of time to talk."

"And do other things," Davy said.

"Don't you ever think about anything else?" Micky asked.

"Sometimes," Davy replied, "but not much."

"What do we do until six?" Peter asked.

"I'm hungry," Micky said. "Let's go get something to eat."

Just then Davy spotted the girl. "You guys go on, I'll meet you there. I'm going to go talk to that girl."

"He's hopeless," Micky said. "Meet us at the restaurant at the club," he said to Davy as he and Peter left.

Davy walked up to the girl. " Ello, luv, I'm Davy Jones" he said in his most charming tone of voice. "Didn't I see you here earlier today?"

The girl looked at him. "Oh yes, you're in that band that's playing at the Shady Palms, aren't you? My mother helped book you. I'm Cyndie. Where's the rest of the band?"

"They're not here," he said. "It's just you and me. Are you planning on being at the club tonight to hear us play?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Cyndie said. _He sure is an arrogant person. I hope Mike is nicer._ "Excuse me, but my mother is expecting me home soon. I'll see you later."

"Sure thing, luv," he said. "Hope you enjoy the show."

"I'm sure I will," she said and left.

_I should have asked her out,_ Davy thought. _Oh well, I'll get another chance later._

Back in Mike's room
"Tell me about your dreams," Ellen said as they lay together afterwards.

"Are you sure you want to know about them?" Mike asked. The last hour had been pretty peaceful and he didn't want to ruin it.

"Yes, I want to know about them, please. We shouldn't keep secrets from each other."

He wanted to ask her then about New York, but knew it still wasn't the right time. There were still too many unanswered questions. Did she even realize he knew? Did she even remember it? "It's like I told you already, it's us, but it's the Civil War. What else do you want to know?"

"How many dreams have you had so far?"

"Three. One the night of your birthday, one three nights ago, and one last night."

"Did anything bad happen in the dreams?" This was important. Her dream had been painful.

"I told you, I died in the war. Is that bad?" He didn't want to tell her about the latest dream, the one about the babies. He didn't know how she would take it.

"Which dream was that?" she asked. She had the feeling there was something she wasn't telling him.

"It was the second one. The first one we were children, probably about eleven years old. I fell in love with you in that dream."

"What were our names?"

"My name was Marc and your name was Julie."

"That's what I thought."

"Ellen, what did you mean by that? Did you have a dream, too?"

"Yes, I had a dream last night. I didn't want to tell you, that would make it real. It was so terrible, Mike. She was such a little thing, our baby. Why didn't she live?" She couldn't hold back the tears. Remembering the dream was like living it all over again.

"Ellen, in this dream, was there another baby, a boy, and he lived?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

"I had the same dream, well sorta. The same situation, but my point of view."

"Do you think it really happened, we lived then?"

"I don't know, but it feels right. I just wish I knew why it was happening now."

"I love you, Mike," she said.

"I love you, too," he whispered and softly kissed her.

They drifted back to sleep, safe in each other's arms and that's how they were when Micky, Davy, and Peter returned.

~*~

More people than they expected had turned out to hear them play. Most of them were teenagers and young adults there with parents, but there were a few older people in the audience. Davy immediately spotted Cyndie, but Cyndie had her eye on Mike, who was searching the crowd for Ellen. When he spotted her he almost dropped his guitar. She was wearing the black dress she had worn on their first date. She smiled and waved when she saw him. He smiled back and winked at her. He was glad they had managed to work things out.

Cyndie, however, failed to notice that Mike didn't want her. She didn't care. She wanted him and she always got what she wanted.

They started with their usual songs like Last Train to Clarksville, Steppin' Stone, She, etc, with Micky singing most of the songs. Davy sang Daydream Believer and Peter sang a new song he had written called For Pete's Sake. The audience really liked it.

Finally, it was Mike's turn. This was going to be the last song of the evening. "The hour is almost up," Mike said. "We have time for one more song. This is for a very special lady and I hope she understands just how much she means to me. This is a little something I like to call Sweet Young Thing."

Afterwards they were at the club restaurant eating when Mr. Richards came up to their table. "I just wanted to let you know I enjoyed the show very much and I think the young people enjoyed it, too. Cyndie in particular asked me to tell you that she enjoyed the show, especially the last song. I think she's taken quite a shine to you." This last statement was directed at Mike.

"I'm flattered, but I've already got a girl," Mike said.

"I wouldn't worry about it," Mr. Richards said. "Cyndie's the type that falls in love all the time."

"Sounds like somebody else we know," Micky said after Mr. Richards left.

"Who's Cyndie?" Peter asked.

"She's the blond we saw earlier when we were checking in," Davy said. "Nice girl, marvelous qualities, you might say. Why is Mike getting all the girls now?"

"I don't want her," Mike said. "I've got a girl in case you didn't notice."

"Where is Ellen anyway?" Micky asked.

"She's resting," Mike explained. "It was a long trip and she's tired."

"What are we going to do about sleeping arrangements now?" Peter asked. "You two probably want to be alone."

"She has her own room," Mike said. "Since she's tired tonight, you're stuck with me."

"So you did works things out, right?" Micky asked.

"Yeah, everything's okay now," Mike said.

"Then why aren't you staying with her tonight?" Davy asked.

"Because we don't feel the need to be with each other every second of the day and night," Mike explained. Davy's attitude was really starting to bother him.

"It's getting late," Micky said. "I think we better hit the sack. It's been a long day."

"What's the plan for tomorrow?" Peter asked.

"Ellen said something about playing tourist," Mike said. "She's never been to San Francisco before."

"I don't have any plans," Micky said.

"I guess we'll just play it by ear and do whatever we want tomorrow. Just as long as we're back here at 6:00. Agreed?" Mike said.

"Agreed," they all answered.

The Next Day
Mike awoke at 8:30 the next morning, somewhat surprised that he hadn't dreamed about that other life. He hadn't even dreamed at all. Maybe the dreams were over. Or maybe there just wasn't anything he needed to know from then right now.

He was meeting Ellen at 9:00 for breakfast and then they were going to have a look around the city. Their problems were behind them. Or so he thought. The course of true love never did run smooth and they were about to discover just how true that was.

He was walking down the hall to Ellen's room when he saw someone walking towards him. It was that blond girl, Cyndie. Maybe she wouldn't see him. No such luck, she was headed right for him.

"Hi," he said and attempted to continue on his way, but she stopped him with a hand on his arm. He noticed she had bright red nail polish and the nails were obviously fake. She must have spent a long time studying old movies. He still wasn't interested.

"I wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed the show last night," she said. "You're very talented."

"Thank you," he said, wanting to get away from her. _If you're going to bathe in perfume, at least make sure it's something that smells good,_ he thought. He had smelled rotting animals that smelled better than whatever perfume she had doused herself in. "Excuse me, but I have somewhere to be." She didn't say anything, just smiled and batted her false eyelashes at him. She had definitely been watching the late movie too much. He couldn't take it anymore. He removed her hand from his arm and without another word, continued to Ellen's room.

Cyndie watched him walk away, one thought on her mind. She wanted him and would do anything to get him.

He didn't knock when he got to Ellen's room, just walked in. She was expecting him so he figured it wouldn't be a problem. She was sitting on the edge of the bed. "You ready to go?" he asked. She didn't answer. That's when he noticed she was crying. He sat down beside her on the bed and put his arm around her, pulling her close. "What's wrong?" he asked. Had he done something to upset her? Did she know about Cyndie and think he had encouraged her pursuit? He hoped not. So much had happened lately, they didn't need anymore problems.

"I called my mother," she said finally. "I just wanted her to know where I was in case she tried to call me or something."

"What did she say?" Whatever it was, it had to be bad. He had only encountered Judy once before, but that was enough. Perhaps if they had met under different circumstances, things would be different, but he couldn't change the past.

"She said that I shouldn't have come here," Ellen said between sobs. "She said I deserve better than you and I should have left when I had the chance."

"Don't let it bother you," Mike said, gently wiping away her tears. "It doesn't matter what your mother thinks of me."

"It matters to me," Ellen said. "I want her to like you."

"Well, sweetheart, people in hell want ice water, but that don't mean they get it," he said. "As long as you love me, it doesn't matter what your mother thinks. You do love me, don't you?"

She didn't hesitate to answer. "Of course I love you," she said. She had stopped crying.

He smiled. "Good, because I love you, too," he said and gently brushed his lips against hers in a light kiss that promised of more later. "Now go get ready because we're going to breakfast and then we're going explore the city."

"What about tonight?" she asked.

He thought about it for a second and then whispered something in her ear that made her blush and giggle. "Really?" she asked.

"Yeah, it sounds like fun to me," he said. "The sooner we get started on the day the sooner we can get around to that."

"I'll be out in a minute," she said, heading for the bathroom. She was already dressed, she just needed to wash her face and redo her makeup. She knew she shouldn't let what her mother said upset her, but she couldn't help it. She loved her mother and wanted her to be happy for her. So what if Mike was different from her other boyfriends, he loved her and she loved him. That should be enough for her mother. But it wasn't. Nothing was ever good enough for her mother. _I won't cry again,_ she thought to herself as she was putting on her makeup. _Think happy thoughts. Think about tonight and what's going to happen. Think about yesterday afternoon. Just think about anything other than Mom._

"I'm ready," she said, coming out of the bathroom.

Hand in hand and smiling, they went to the restaurant at the club for breakfast.

~*~

Cyndie sat at a table in the Shady Palms restaurant, watching Mike and Ellen. There had to be some way to break them up so she could have Mike for herself. He would be devastated and she would be there to comfort him. She just needed to come up with a way to make it happen.

The first thing Davy noticed as he entered the restaurant was Cyndie sitting alone. Then he noticed what held her attention. He walked up to her table and sat down across from her. "Ello," he said. "I noticed you watching Mike. You want him?"

"Yes," Cyndie answered. "You're his friend, can you help me?"

He smiled that smile that made most females melt. "Of course I can help. You want him, I want her. I've got a plan," he said and begin to tell her his plan.

~*~

"I think I liked New York better," Mike said as they walked around San Francisco. It had been one boring shop after another and he wanted to go back to the hotel.

"I didn't know you had been to New York," Ellen said. "When were you there?"

"A few years ago, just for a week," he said. Now was not the time to ask her about that.

"I used to live in New York," she said. "Not for very long, though. I was 18 and rebelling a bit. Mom didn't like it, but I loved it. She didn't speak to me for two weeks after I came back to California."

"What happened to get you talking again?" He didn't always get along with his mother, but he couldn't imagine her being so mad at him to not speak to him for so long.

"She set me up with Joey. She adored Joey, still does, actually. I think that's part of why she doesn't like you."

"What about you?" Okay, he was curious. After all, he felt he had a right to know.

"If I didn't have a contract with him, I would be happy to never see him again," she said. "As soon as it's over, I'm going to find a new agent and hope I never see Joey again."

"How much longer do you have?"

"One year or a movie. I think that's why he won't get me a movie, he wants to keep me. I think I shattered his ego when I dumped him. It didn't bother me, though. I was tired of him."

"How long was that before we started dating?"

"It was about four months," she answered. Joey had spent those four months begging her to take him back, but she had refused. She had never regretted the decision, even before she met Mike. She had gotten tired of Joey. Now she wished she could get rid of him.

"So I got you on the rebound?"

"No, I was over Joey long before I dumped him."

"Glad to hear it," he said. He checked his watch. "It's about lunch time. You hungry?"

"Yes. Let's go to the Top of the Mark."

"Aren't they expensive?"

"My treat."

He reluctantly agreed.

At the Top of the Mark
The food was very good and the prices reflected that. It sure beat the food they'd had the week before on her birthday. He still felt a bit guilty about that, but it didn't seem to bother her.

"Do you like Mexican food?" he asked her.

"I never really had it," she said. "Why?"

"There's this great little Mexican restaurant back home in Texas. When we go, I'll have to take you."

"When we go? I don't remember you asking me to go."

"Okay, I'm asking you now. I get $375 from this gig. When we have the time, I would like to take you to Texas for a few days so you can meet my mother and my friends. Do you want to?"

"You want me to meet your mother? I'd love to. What about Ana?"

"I'd like you to meet her, too. She's really looking forward to it."

"You told her before you even asked me?"

"No, I didn't. I just sorta mentioned I had been thinking about it when I talked to her a few days ago. Don't get mad. There's no reason to get mad at her about this."

"I'm not mad," she said. "I want to go, I want to meet her. When are we going?"

"I don't know," he said, relieved that she didn't appear to be mad at him. "It will have to be sometime when we both have a week or two free. It's a long way to Texas. Besides, I'd have to talk to my mother about letting us stay with her and I'd have to talk to Ana. There's a lot of planning to do about this. We'll talk about it later."

_Later,_ she thought. _It's always later with us. We put off so many conversations it's a wonder we have anything to talk about right now._

After lunch they did more exploring. They rode the cable car and saw the Golden Gate Bridge and Ellen got mad at Mike when he tried to climb up on the railing. She was afraid he was going to fall, but he didn't. He just wanted to see what she would do.

They were walking down Market Street when Ellen saw the sign. "Mike, look at this," she said, pointing to the sign. It said, Madame Rose sees all, knows all. Ask any question and she will answer it. 1401 Market St.

"You want to go talk to her?" Mike asked.

"I'm curious," Ellen admitted. "There's nothing to lose. Let's do it."

It was only two blocks to Madame Rose's and they had plenty of time so they went. Mike wasn't sure what to expect, but this wasn't it. The room was brightly lit and smelled of incense. On the table in the corner there was a deck of cards, a crystal, and a candle. Against one wall there was a large bookcase filled with books of all sizes. One in particular caught his eye. He took it off the shelf and looked at the title. The Search For Bridey Murphy. _Something familiar about that title,_ he thought to himself. He opened the book and began to read.

A door that neither of them seemed to have noticed opened and Madame Rose appeared. She was a tall woman with long gray hair piled on top of her head in a bun. She didn't look older than thirty except for her hair. She wore a simple white dress, very little makeup, and her only jewelry was a pearl necklace and a gold wedding ring. "How may I help you?" she asked.

"You're Madame Rose?" Ellen asked, somewhat surprised.

"Yes, I am Madame Rose. You were expecting someone different? Maybe a bit flashier?"

"Yes," Ellen answered.

"You're honest," Madame Rose said. "I like that. I don't like stereotypes. It tends to be bad for business. Too many frauds out there and they give those of us with a genuine gift a bad name." She walked up to Mike and looked at the book in his hands. "Interested in past lives, Mr. Nesmith?"

"Yes, a bit," he answered. "How did you know my name?"

"I know many things, Michael. I do not know why I know them, it's become a part of me. You know things, too. Use that to your advantage."

"This is a very interesting book," Mike said. "I wish I had the money to buy it."

"Take the book, read it, learn from it," Madame Rose said. "I am not the one to answer your questions about this. That is for the dark haired woman."

_She means Ana,_ Mike thought. _I should have known she would be the one to do it._ "Thank you."

Madame Rose sat down at the table across from Ellen and motioned by Mike to join them. He sat down in the chair next to Ellen. "You're not exactly sure why you have come here," she said, "but you know it was something you had to do. There has been conflict lately, both together and separately. Give me your hands." They both held a hand out to her. "Very interesting," she said. "I knew it when you walked in."

"Knew what?" Mike asked.

"You have a very strong bond. How you met was no chance encounter, it was planned. Think about how you met and everything that went into that. If one thing had happened differently, you wouldn't be here now. But that bond is about to be tested. There are many changes coming in the future. It has began, but you don't know it yet. Be very careful in the decisions you make."

"What is going to happen?" Ellen asked.

"I can't tell you that," Madame Rose said. "You will know when it happens. When it does, remember your love for each other and it will help you know the right thing to do." She let go of their hands. "I hope I have helped you."

Ellen was confused, but thanked Madame Rose anyway. Mike tried to pay Madame Rose, but she refused. Instead, she whispered to him, "Tell her before you both forget what happened. She remembers that night in New York in her own way. It's holding you both back, so tell her."

Mike didn't say anything, just nodded his understanding, took his book, and joined Ellen.

"What did she tell you?" Ellen asked him when they were outside.

"She was just reminding me of something that happened before," Mike said. "I'll tell you about it later."

Saturday Night after the dance
"Did you get it?" Cyndie asked Davy.

"Of course I did," Davy said, handing the key to Cyndie. "The door is locked so she can't get in."

"This better work," Cyndie said, taking the key from Davy.

"It will," Davy assured her. "Just give her a few minutes to figure out she doesn't have the key and then you go in her room. I'll make sure it works."

"Where is Mike?"

"He said something about getting something to eat, I think," Davy said. "I did overhear him telling Ellen he would meet her back at her room."

"Thanks for all your help," Cyndie said and kissed him on the cheek.

"No problem," Davy said. "It's almost time."

~*~

Ellen stood outside the door to her room wondering what to do. She had somehow managed to lock herself out of the room. Mike would be there any minute and she had no way to get into her room. She knew the office would be closed until morning and she would feel very uncomfortable spending the night in Mike's room with Peter there too. Maybe if she went back to the club, she could find the hotel manager and get a key from him. She was just about to do that when she heard someone call her name. Turning around, she saw Davy. What else was going to go wrong? "This isn't a good time, Davy," she said.

Davy ignored the fact that she didn't want to speak to him. "I just wanted to tell you that Mike said he had some things to do and for you to wait for him in our room."

It sounded a bit suspicious, but Ellen really didn't have much of a choice. Davy hadn't really done anything other than be generally annoying towards her the last few days and if Micky and Peter were there he wouldn't try anything. She reluctantly followed him down the hall.

As soon as they were out of sight, Cyndie unlocked the door and went inside to prepare for Mike to arrive.

Mike arrived a minute later and entered the room without knocking. He did think it a bit strange that the lights were off, but thought it was just to enhance the mood. He walked to the bed as quietly as he could and sat down on the edge. By then his eyes had adjusted enough to where he could tell there was someone in the bed. He could see a pile of clothes on the floor. "Started without me, didn't you?" he said teasingly. "Well, you're gonna have to pay for that." He reached out and gently caressed her hair. That's when he noticed something wasn't quite right. Ellen's hair wasn't that short and her chest wasn't that big. So either she'd had a radical make over in the last five minutes or that wasn't Ellen. He jumped from the bed and ran to the light switch. He flicked it on to reveal Cyndie sitting on the bed, wearing a smile and nothing else. He suddenly felt sick. He wanted out of the room, but first he wanted an explanation for why she was there. "What are you doing here?" he asked. "Where's Ellen?"

"She's not here," Cyndie said, standing up and walking up to him. She noticed the can of whipped cream he was holding. "What's that for?" she asked.

"I, uh, I like it in my coffee," he answered. With his free hand he tried to open the door. It didn't work, he couldn't get it open with just one hand.

"You look more like a banana split type to me," Cyndie said, smiling. She stood on her tip toes and kissed him on the cheek, making sure she left a smear of bright red lipstick. "No man has ever refused me before, Mike," she said, starting to unbutton his shirt. "Don't be the first."

Mike wanted to get out of that room and run far away. He wanted away from Cyndie. He knew that if Ellen came in he would be in more trouble. Where was she anyway? And why was Cyndie in her room? He knew one thing. This was a set up and he had a good idea of who was behind it. If he ever got out of the room and found Davy, he would not go easy on him.

He dropped the bottle of whipped cream and opened the door, running out into the hallway. Cyndie grabbed a sheet from the bed and ran after him.

~*~

Ellen knew she should have realized something was up when she saw the bottle of wine and the two glasses sitting on the table when she entered the room. "This is a nice room," Ellen said, looking around. It had a small refrigerator and a sofa.

"I guess Mr. Richards wanted us to have the best," Davy said, sitting down on the sofa. He picked up the bottle of wine and poured some into the two glasses. He motioned for Ellen to sit next to him on the sofa. "Mike will be here in a few minutes," he said. "You might as well make yourself comfortable."

"Where are Micky and Peter?" Ellen asked. She did not sit down, but she still did not leave.

"I don't know," Davy said. "They probably went out with some girls." He motioned once again for her to join him on the sofa. "Please, sit, be comfortable."

She reluctantly sat down beside him, but refused the glass of wine he offered. "I wish Mike would get here," she said.

"I wouldn't worry about him," Davy said, scooting closer to her. "He can take care of himself." He took a sip of his wine. "You know, you're the first serious girlfriend Mike has ever had since I've known him."

"I think he's mentioned that," Ellen said, trying to move away from him. She suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

He reached out and grabbed her arm. "Don't go anywhere," he said. "You deserve better than Mike. You deserve someone who can really appreciate you."

"Let go of me," Ellen said. She pulled away from him and ran to the door. "Don't you ever touch me again." She tried to open the door, but she couldn't.

"It's locked," Davy said, walking up to her. He touched her cheek. "Do you know what Mike said when he first met you?"

"I don't want to know," Ellen said, brushing his hand away from her cheek. "Whatever you're going to say is probably a lie anyway."

"Oh, it's not a lie, love," Davy said. "He said you were pathetic."

"No, that's not true, Mike wouldn't say anything like that."

"He did. You were lonely and pathetic and desperate, that's what he said. I guess you would have to be pretty desperate to date him." He touched her cheek again and trailed his fingers down her neck. "I wouldn't have said anything like that," he said.

Summoning up all her courage, she slapped him hard across the face. "Don't you ever touch me like that again," she said. "I am not your little play thing. And don't think I won't tell Mike what happened because I will. Then you will get exactly what you deserve." She pulled on the door handle until it opened and she ran into the hallway.

"He's just an uneducated hick," Davy said, following her out. "What can he give you that I can't?"

But Ellen didn't say anything. She was too busy trying to figure out what was going on down the hall. Mike had run out of her room, shirt unbuttoned, followed by someone who appeared to be naked under a sheet. She recognized her as Cyndie, the girl Davy had been with lately. She felt sick to her stomach thinking that maybe Mike had arranged for Davy to take her to his room so he could be alone with Cyndie.

Mike didn't see Ellen until she had walked up to him. "What's going on here?" she asked.

"This isn't what it looks like," he said. "I didn't bring her here. I didn't do anything wrong."

She didn't say anything. She didn't know whether or not to believe him.

Davy walked up behind her. "I tried to tell you he would hurt you," Davy said.

"Shut up, Davy," Ellen said. "I don't want to hear what you have to say. I wouldn't believe it anyway."

Nobody seemed to notice that Cyndie had gone back in the room until she came back out, this time wearing her clothes. She was also wearing Mike's hat. "Thanks for a wonderful time," she said. "Next time, bring more whipped cream." She started to walk away, but Ellen stopped her.

"You're not going anywhere until you tell me what you were doing with Mike," Ellen said. She pushed Cyndie back in the room. "Nobody touches that hat," she said, and grabbed the hat from Cyndie.

"Don't get bitchy with me,"Cyndie said.

"I have every right to get bitchy with you," Ellen said. She saw the can of whipped cream on the floor and picked it up. "It's still full."

"That doesn't prove anything," Cyndie said, trying to keep her voice from trembling.

"It proves plenty, you little slut," Ellen says. "It proves to me that nothing happened here. Now, I want you out of here and I mean now. I want you to leave me and Mike alone. He doesn't want you. He's got me and that's enough."

Cyndie ran out of the room. "Your stupid plan didn't work," she told Davy and ran down the hall.

"This was all your idea?" Mike asked. It had been a long time since he had lost his temper and only the fact that Davy was his friend had stopped him before. Now Davy had gone too far.

"Yeah, it was my idea," Davy said. "I felt she deserved better."

"Somebody who's not some dumb hick, you mean? Did you think I didn't hear that? I thought you were my friend. I guess I was wrong. I don't need friends like you. And you keep your hands off Ellen."

"And if I don't?"

Mike answered that by punching Davy in the jaw.

"So you want to fight do you?" Davy asked.

"Yeah, I do," Mike answered and soon fists were flying. Mike had forgotten about Davy's ring until it cut his cheek. Still, that didn't stop him. He had gotten in plenty of fights over the years and had learned a few things from them. Plus, he had the advantage of height.

Ellen, hearing the shouting, ran into the hallway. "Stop," she yelled, seeing them fighting. They ignored her. She heard footsteps approaching and hoped it wasn't the hotel security. She was relieved when she saw it was Micky and Peter. They would know what to do. "They're fighting," she told Micky. "Make them stop."

Micky didn't say anything, just walked up to Mike and put one hand on his shoulder. "Mike, stop it. You're both hurt."

Mike stopped and stepped away. There was blood on his face from where Davy's ring had cut him and he had a black eye. Davy also had bruises forming on his face.

"What happened here?" Micky asked.

Neither one of them answered. Davy started walking away. Peter tried to stop him, but he shoved him away and walked away. Peter started to go after him, but Micky stopped him. "Let him go," Micky said. "He'll come back when he's cooled off. He turned to Mike. "Are you going to be okay?"

Mike just nodded and motioned for Micky and Peter to go to their room. He was breathing hard and he knew he would be sore in the morning. He didn't feel sorry for what he did. Davy had hurt him.

Micky and Peter went to their room, leaving Mike and Ellen alone in the hallway. She looked scared, as if he might hurt her, too, the way he had hurt Davy. He wouldn't hurt her. He loved her. He held out his hand to her, pleading, "Don't leave me," he said. "Please don't leave me. Not again."

~*~

She didn't say anything, just stood there, staring at him, as if debating whether or not to take his hand. She had never seen him act like that, pleading with her not to leave him. When had she left him before? She didn't know, but she did know he needed her right then. She took his hand in hers and they went to her room.

He sat down in a chair while she went to the bathroom to get a wet washcloth to wash the blood off his cheek. And he would need ice for his eye. She didn't have any ice. Maybe she could get some from room service.

What had he meant about not leaving him again? Things were happening so fast, she wasn't sure she wanted to know what he was talking about. This probably had to do with whatever it was Madame Rose had told him Tuesday. Why hadn't he told her about that yet? If it concerned her, then she had a right to know what it was.

He was still sitting in the chair when she walked back in the room. His eyes were closed and he looked asleep, but she knew he wasn't. She gently began washing away the blood. His eyes opened as she touched the cool washcloth to his face. He didn't say anything, but the question was clear. _Are you mad at me for what I did?_

"How do you feel?" she asked. The cut wasn't very deep and it hadn't bled much. It would disappear in a few days just like the bruise around his eye would. But what about the emotional wounds? Would either of them be able to trust Davy again?

"I'll live," he answered. "I did what I had to. I lost you once before. I didn't want it to happen again." He cupped her chin in one hand, gently caressing her cheek. "Why did you leave me that night?"

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," she said. He was starting to frighten her. Maybe the fight had affected his memory or something.

"You didn't know it was me," he said. "I didn't realize it, either, not until a few weeks ago. You were probably scared. You were only 18 and we had only known each other a few days. I did love you, Jennifer."

Only one person had ever called her Jennifer. There was no way he could have known that unless... Oh god, could it really be true? "Robert? In New York, that was you?"

He nodded. "That's my first name, but I've always gone by Mike. Except that one time. I always wondered what happened to you. I never thought I would find you again. Your hair was a lot lighter then and shorter."

"Your hair was shorter then, too. I never meant to hurt you," she said. "It just wouldn't have worked out then. But I did love you." She started to cry.

He wiped away her tears. "Don't cry, please don't cry. I didn't mean to make you cry. No, it probably wouldn't have worked out then. Did you ever think about that night?"

"Yes, a lot. Did you?"

"Yes. That was the first time for both of us. And the best until I met you again." He kissed her, a slow, deep kiss, like that night back in New York when she had visited his hotel room in the middle of the night. When the kiss ended, he held her , grateful that they had found each other again. That, more than anything, proved that this was meant to be.

"Did you ever dream about that night?" she asked.

"Yes. A lot the first few months. I would dream that you hadn't left me or that you came back. I dreamed about you the night before I met you again."

"I'm sorry I left then," she said.

"I understand why you did," he said. "Just don't do it again."

"I won't" she promised, and kissed him.

"This is getting uncomfortable," he said when the kiss ended. "Let's move to the bed."

And they did.

The Next Morning
Mike was sore the next morning, nothing a hot shower wouldn't take care of, but right then he was content to stay in bed. He remembered well the pain of waking up on that distant morning to find that she was gone. But he hadn't pursued her then. He was just happy he had found her again. In the back of his mind all the past few years had been the hope that they would meet again.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. He started to climb out of bed, every muscle in his body protesting. He ignored the pain and reached down on the floor for his jeans. The knock came again, more insistent this time. He pulled on his jeans and stood up. On the bed, Ellen sat up. "Where are you going?" she asked.

"Someone's at the door," he told her. "I'll take care of it."

He opened the door to reveal Micky and Peter. He stepped out into the hallway. "This better be good," he said. "It's still early."

"Davy didn't come back last night," Micky said.

Mike felt like he had been punched in the gut. If anything bad happened to Davy, it was partly his fault. After all, he had thrown the first punch the night before. "Any idea where he might have gone last night?" Mike asked.

"We're going to ask the security guard if he saw Davy last night," Micky said.

"That sounds like a good idea," Mike said. "You two go do that and I'll meet up with you later. I don't think Davy would want to see me anytime soon."

"I think Davy needs help," Peter said. "What he did to you and Ellen was wrong."

"He'll definitely have a lot of explaining to do when we find him," Micky said. "Did you and Ellen get everything worked out?"

"Yeah, we got things worked out," Mike said. "That's why I'm not letting you in."

"That's great," Micky said. "I'm going to go see if I can find somebody who saw Davy last night."

"What do you want me to do?" Peter asked.

"You can wait here," Micky said. "I'll come back when I know something." He left.

"Mike, I can go back to my own room if you and Ellen want to be alone," Peter said. "After last night you don't need me interrupting you."

"It's okay, Peter," Mike said. "Just wait here while I ask Ellen." He went back in the room.

"Who was at the door?" Ellen asked. She had taken a quick shower and dressed.

"That was Micky and Peter," Mike explained. "Davy never came back so Micky went to talk to security. Peter wants to hang out here until Micky gets back if that's okay with you."

"Fine with me," Ellen said. "I'll order breakfast from room service."

Mike let Peter in and they waited for Micky to come back.

"Where do you think he went?" Peter asked.

"I don't know," Mike said, "probably somewhere with Cyndie. Those two deserve each other."

"Has Davy ever done anything like this before?" Ellen asked.

"Not until I met you," Mike answered.

"He's very jealous," Peter said. "He's used to being the one to get the girl, but his relationships never seem to last long. You two have a very stable relationship. That is something he's always wanted, but has never had. He's naturally jealous that one of his friends has that, especially since it's you, Mike. It's totally unexpected. If it was me or Micky, Davy would have reacted differently."

Mike stared at Peter in amazement. "How did you figure all that?" he asked.

"I took psychology in high school," Peter said. "I made an A."

"So you're saying that Davy is not really jealous of Mike, he's jealous of the type of relationship we have?" Ellen asked.

"Somewhat," Peter answered. "The jealousy would be less severe if Micky or I was involved in the type of relationship you and Mike have."

"Why?" Ellen asked.

Peter started to answer, but Mike stopped him. "Because in all the years that the four of us have known each other, they've never really seen me hung up on a girl. That doesn't mean that there weren't girls, I just didn't talk about it. I wasn't serious about anybody until I met you."

Ellen nodded in understanding and was about to say something when the door opened and Micky walked in. "I talked to the security guard," he said. "He saw Davy leave last night with Cyndie. They were headed in the direction of her apartment. Chances are he's still there."

"Did you get her address?" Peter asked.

"Yeah, I got it," Micky said.

"Well, then, let's go get him," Peter said.

"There's one other thing," Micky said. "The security guard told me that Cyndie has spent time in the mental hospital. She tried to kill her boyfriend."

~*~

Davy slowly opened his eyes and tried to remember where he was. He knew he wasn't at home, they didn't have lace curtains back at the pad. It wasn't the hotel room, either. The bed was too small. He tried to sit up to get a better look at his surroundings, but he quickly learned this caused a sharp pain to cut through his head. He vaguely recalled fighting with Mike the night before, but he knew this pain couldn't have been caused by that. It was something else, but he couldn't remember what. He lay back down, his gaze falling to a glass on the nightstand. Cyndie. He was at Cyndie's apartment. He remembered it now. She had invited him back to her place after the fight. She had given him something to drink. He remembered remarking on the strange taste. Then he had passed out. She had drugged him.

He needed to find a phone. He needed to call Micky and tell him where he was. But what if Cyndie was still there? What if she did something worse to him? He had screwed up big time. With everybody. Mike probably hate him and he had good reason to. He would think about that later. Right now he needed to stay awake so he could find the phone. He could at least call the cops and they could find him. Or he could call an ambulance. It probably wouldn't hurt to see a doctor. Whatever Cyndie had given him could have some pretty serious effects.

Ignoring the pain, he sat up and slowly made his way out of the bed. Most of his clothes were scattered on the floor. Did he have sex with Cyndie? He couldn't remember. He didn't want to remember. Right now he just wanted out of that apartment. He hoped Cyndie wasn't still there.

He dressed as quickly as he could, ignoring the pain as much as possible. As soon as this was over, he was going to crawl in bed and sleep for days. And avoid Mike. He had screwed up and Mike probably hated him for what he did. He wasn't too fond of Mike, either. Not right then.

There wasn't a phone in the bedroom. He checked the living room. He found the phone on the coffee table. He picked it up and started to dial, but that didn't work. The wires had been cut. He had no other way of contacting Micky. He didn't know where he was, he hadn't paid attention to where they were going last night when Cyndie had brought him here. Maybe he could find a bill or something that would tell him the address. There were a stack of envelopes on the table. He picked them up and began looking through them. Many of them were empty, which didn't help him at all. Then he found one from Twin Oaks Sanitarium. With trembling fingers, Davy pulled the letter out of the envelope. He felt sick to his stomach as he read it.

"Dear Patient,
It is time for your monthly follow up visit. We at Twin Oaks feel that these follow up visits ensure that you will continue to be mentally healthy. Please call to schedule an appointment."

He dropped the paper as if it burned him. He had gotten involved with a psycho chick. He would be lucky if he got out alive. He had never screwed up this bad before.

He heard a commotion in the hallway. _Oh please, don't let that be Cyndie come back to finish me off. I'm too young and cute to die._ He couldn't move, frozen with fear.

The door was kicked open and he was relieved to see a policeman standing there. He could see Micky, Peter, Mike, and Ellen behind him. "Are you Davy Jones?" the cop asked.

Davy nodded.

"Your friends were very concerned about you, Mr. Jones. Do you need to see a doctor?"

"Yes," Davy said. "I think she put something in my drink."

"Wait here and I'll get an ambulance," the cop said and left.

"What happened?" Micky asked.

"I don't really remember," Davy said. "Cyndie asked me to come back here with her. She fixed me a drink. It tasted funny. Then I passed out. That's all I remember."

"You're lucky," Peter told him.

"What do you mean?" Davy asked.

"She stabbed her last boyfriend," Micky explained. "She spent a year in a mental hospital for that. We asked Mr. Richards about it. He denied it at first, but we got the truth out of him."

"That was a really stupid thing you did, Davy," Mike said. "You're lucky you didn't get yourself killed."

"Leave him alone, Mike," Micky said. "You two go back to the hotel. We'll stay with Davy. I'll call later."

"I don't need you to fight my battles for me, Micky," Davy said after Mike and Ellen left. It was obvious that it would take a lot to get those two back on friendly terms. Time and a lot of patience, that's what they needed.

The ambulance arrived and took Davy to the hospital. Micky went with him while Peter went back to the hotel. If Davy was okay, then they were going to go back home. As for Cyndie, nobody seemed to know where she was. She had called her mother and told her she had to go away for a while, but she didn't say where she was going. The police said they would keep looking for her. This news did little to calm anyone.

The doctor said Davy was free to leave, the drug had been mild and would have no lasting effects. If any side effects did occur, he was to see a doctor immediately.

By afternoon they were ready to go home. "This has been quite a trip," Micky remarked as he loaded suitcases into the car.

"Never a dull moment," Mike said.

"I hope the next trip is boring," Peter said.

Davy didn't say anything. He was already curled up in the back seat of the car, fast asleep.

Mike handed the car keys to Micky. "You drive," he said. "I'm going to ride back with Ellen. Besides, I don't think Davy needs me around right now."

"I understand," Micky said, taking the keys from Mike. "It will work out."

"I hope so," Mike said. "Be careful."

"Yeah, you, too. See you back at the pad."

They got into their separate cars and started the trip back home.

It's amazing how much can change in one week. Friends grow apart, lovers grow closer, the past isn't over, and sometimes people aren't what they seem. Yes, great changes were coming. They had began and nothing would ever be the same again. But one thing hadn't changed. They still hoped as long as hope was alive, anything was possible.