Author's Notes: This story is set directly after the episode "I Was A 99lb. Weakling," after Micky gets dumped by that weird Brenda girl.

Mike had only been gone for a week, but in that short of a time things had seemed to go from bad to worse, to the point where "I wish Mike were here" had become a frequently heard phrase around the pad. Peter shook his head as he picked up plate of untouched eggs, bacon and toast at Micky's place table. could just see out on porch, sitting with chin resting pulled knees, watching perfect waves roll onto shore.

"Davy, I'm getting really worried about him." Peter's deep brown eyes darkened with concern as he looked over at Davy, who was up to his elbows in suds at the sink. "He hasn't eaten much in days..."

Davy nodded as he precariously stacked three plates on top of everything else in the dish drainer. Micky usually ate everything in the house, no matter what it was. Mike had said it was because Micky was like a hummingbird. He had to eat a tremendous amount to keep up that boundless energy. "Yeah, but I think he's gettin back to his old self again." Davy remarked. "Sure, he moped around here a few days, but last night he said he was goin to meet a girl at the movies. I knew it would just take him a few days to get back in the swing of things." Davy drained the sink, wiping his hands on his apron as if closing the subject. "He just got hung up on that Brenda chick, that's all."

"Yeah, I guess you might be right...but..." Peter trailed off, looking out at the porch. "I just can't put my finger on it...but something's not right..."

"What do you mean?" Davy asked as he followed Peter's gaze. "He's been pretty normal the past two days."

"Yeah, that's just it, man. Too normal after the way he was acting when he came back." They had never seen their friend fall so hard over a girl before. At first, Brenda had seemed to return all of Micky's affection; she'd done all the stuff Peter had seen the other guy's girlfriends do, but then she had fallen for this big blond muscle guy on the beach. Peter and Davy had tried to help Micky with his body building plan, so that he could try to measure up, and only narrowly prevented Micky from hocking his drums and sneakers to join a health club. Peter shuddered at the thought of what might have happened had Mike come home from his trip to Texas to find a band with no drums.

Micky had gotten dumped, and in a big way, Peter knew, but he wouldn't talk about it at all. He had went over to Brenda's four days ago, to find out why she wouldn't return his phone calls and had come back a different Micky. He had walked in the front door and up the stairs, ignoring Peter and Davy's questioning looks. When they tried to go upstairs to talk to him, they had found the door to his room locked. All he had said to them was "Go away" in a quiet voice that sounded nothing like Micky's. This continued for two days more, as Peter and Davy tried to get Micky to talk about what seemed to be bothering him. Micky had just looked at them with a haunted look in his brown eyes as he shook his head, refusing to explain.

Then yesterday, Micky had seemed just fine. He was like himself, making jokes about Peter's cooking, practicing drum rifts; he had even gone out to surf. Peter had felt much better about everything since Mike had left, until he had accidentally surprised Micky on the porch, getting ready to go out on the beach. Micky had been watching the waves, with his back to the window and Peter had come up behind him, not meaning to be quiet, but startling Micky all the same.

Micky had turned around and for just a split second, Peter had seen terrible pain in the depths of his eyes. It was as if he had looked into his friend's soul and saw what he was going through. It had only been there a moment and Peter almost doubted that he had seen anything at all; it vanished that quick. "Want to go surfing, Peter?" Micky had asked suddenly. "I was just checking out the waves and they look perfect!" All Micky's normal enthusiasm had been there, but that look Peter had seen...it was hard for him to shake it out of his mind.

"I think you are making too much out of it, man. This happens to everyone, sooner or later. He's getting over it."

"Do you think so, Davy?" Peter turned to him, wanting to believe it.

"I do, Peter. But if you're still worried about him, we'll tell Mike about it when we pick him up from the bus station later and see what he thinks about it."

"Yeah...okay..." Peter nodded as Davy went to go get dressed. He looked out at the porch again, where Micky sat still, watching the ocean. "I hope you're right, Davy."

You love me, Micky? You are too much of a clown. I want someone more serious.

The waves rolled in on the shore as her voice rolled through his mind. Those disturbing blue eyes of hers that he had once thought so beautiful, regarding him as if he were a bug, or a spot on one of her new satin shoes. It was just fun, something new. Why can't you just accept that, Micky? It meant nothing.

That laugh of hers...then the words which had been the worst...

You can't be serious. I could never
love anyone
like
you.

He closed his eyes against that. He put his head against his arms and tried to concentrate on the sound of the water. Its rhythm blocked out the sound of her laughing at him. The only way he had been able to sleep the past few days was by leaving the window open in the upstairs bedroom and letting the sound of the ocean lull him into slumber. He had been so stupid to let her get to him, but he knew he would never make that mistake again. From now on...no girl would go where he had allowed her to. No one would ever mean as much to him as she had, because he wasn't going to let them. When you let someone into your heart, you took a chance. He shivered as the wind tousled his brown curls and caused goosebumps to appear on his arms. He didn't think he'd ever be prepared to take that kind of chance again. His music and his friends would have to be enough.

He looked up and saw Peter walking through the living room towards the porch. Great, he thought. Peter had seen him out on the porch and probably thought he was still upset. Both of them, Peter and Davy, had been watching him like a pair of concerned aunts lately. If he had eaten half of the food they had pushed at him in the past few days, he would be waddling across the floor. He frowned a moment, then smiled softly, realizing they cared about him. Touching, but annoying too in a way. He looked back out at the ocean and tried hard to put on the Micky face, his best defense when people tried to get too close to something he wanted to keep to himself.

"Micky?" Peter said as he walked onto the porch. Micky could tell that Peter was still worried about him by the way he was fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. He shook his head slightly, smiling to himself. He just knew Pete too well.

"Yeah, what's up, Pete?" He smiled at Peter, who boosted himself up to sit on the railing of the porch.

"Davy and I were going to go down to the bus station to get Mike. Would you like to go?" He looked at Micky expectantly, as if waiting for something.

"Nah, Peter. You guys go, and I'll stay here to...straighten up the pad before Mike gets back. You know how he is...." and I'm sure you two have a lot to tell him about, he added silently. He wasn't relishing having to stare the Texan down just yet. Mike's eyes always seemed to be able to pick out whatever wasn't right with something, and Micky just wasn't sure if he could pull off "the face" in front of Mike. He was going to give it a try though.

"Well, okay. We'll be back before 3." Peter jumped down from the railing and started to go back inside. Then he turned, and looked uncertainly at Micky. "Micky, are you sure you're okay--I mean about Brenda and all?"

"I'm fine big Peter. She was just a girl--nothing to worry about. Really. There are plenty more just like her." He smiled at Peter, silently praying his friend wouldn't push him to lie any further.

"Ok." Peter smiled his patented Peter-sunshine smile, the one that always made Micky want to take him out for ice cream, and Micky knew he had pulled it off. "See you later!"

"See ya big Pete." He waved back at Peter as he went inside. Then Micky smiled to himself, the first real one to cross his face in days. He'd pulled it off this time, and done a pretty good job of it. There was no sense worrying his friends about something that they couldn't fix. As he heard the front door slam he went inside to begin straightening up the pad for Mike's arrival.

Micky twirled his drumsticks, a thoughtful look on his face as he watched the guys finish setting up. They were playing at the Vincent tonight, and there was a pretty good crowd out there, which always put Micky in a good mood. It was as if, on stage, he could forget everything else but the music. Usually he would pick someone out of the crowd to sing to, some girl who was by herself, or a group of them, which was usually even better. They would feel special, and he enjoyed the attention immensely. He smiled, thinking he had been looking forward to this more than he had realized.

Everything wasn't as bad as he had thought it would be. Yesterday, things had gone easier with Mike than he had thought they would. When Mike got back that afternoon, Micky had been wary, but Mike hadn't said anything. Later on that night, however, when things had quieted down, he had come over to Micky, who had been lying on the couch reading.

"So Micky..." he had said, sitting on the end of his couch with his guitar. He picked out a few bars of an unfamiliar song as he sat there, leaving the question hanging in the air, unasked but still understood.

"You mean about Brenda right?" Micky had looked over his book. Mike turned toward him and raised an eyebrow as Micky began to speak. "Really, it's fine. Peter and Davy--you know them...they overreact. It's only because you weren't here to guide them." He had teased. "I thought I was going to have to call you to come back early, just so they wouldn't worry about me." He had carefully kept his voice nonchalant, trying to appear to be unconcerned.

Mike had nodded in that silent way of his, as he picked out notes of the song. He had appeared intent on the music, but Micky had caught his sidelong glance.

"Hey, what's that you're working on?" Micky had said, trying to distract Mike from pressing further.

"Oh, just something new. It kinda hit me when I was on the bus. I don't have any words for it yet except for this part." Mike had paused for a moment, finding the right place, and then he began to sing.

"she looked at me
and the emptiness in her eyes was cruel to see
then she turned away and said
'once I loved but love is dead'
and I whispered sometimes love is only sleeping
she said 'I cannot cry
and I cannot give or feel or even try...'"

"That's all I've got so far." He looked sideways at Micky again.

"That sounds really good, Mike." He answered woodenly, the words still in his head. Once I loved, but love is dead. Yeah, that kinda sums it up, he had thought and the pain in his heart rose again as he shivered.

"I thought you might could sing some of the backup parts, but we can work that out when I finish it." Mike had said slowly as his eyes narrowed. Micky had felt Mike's gaze but he tried to ignore it.

"Sure." He had said, turning back to his book. Mike had sat there a moment more; Micky had known he was trying to decide if he should press further, but then he had seemed to change his mind.

And that had been that.

Micky looked out at the crowd again, twirling his drumsticks, trying to pick the girl that he was going to sing to. Tonight was full of possibilities, he thought, a little of his usually unlimited optimism returning. There was a really cute girl with long blond curly hair and a soft smile that made him think of Peter in the front row. She was wearing a dress the color of the sky, and she was alone--a good possibility. She smiled at him as he looked at her, and he smiled back. He scanned quickly for anyone else, feeling that he had already found the lucky winner of his attention tonight, but then he saw her. Brenda. She was wearing that lime green mock turtleneck dress that always drove him crazy. And she was with a guy, sitting about halfway back in the middle so he'd be sure to see her. He felt his stomach flip and he dropped a drumstick in mid-twirl. Mike and Peter looked back just in time to see him disappear behind the stage, after tripping over the legs of his high-hat and causing a huge crashing sound in true Micky fashion.

"What in the world is wrong with him?" Mike frowned as he looked over to Peter.

Peter shook his head, eyes rapidly filling with concern. "I'll go." He said as he unslung his bass and walked back into the small backstage area. Mike looked around, trying to find the source of Micky's rapid retreat, and there it was, wearing a bright green dress. Mike frowned as he looked to Davy, who had just walked up from chatting with a redhead in the front row.

"Hey, what happened to Micky and Peter?" Davy asked as he turned back around to give the redhead a wink.

"Just look out there, Romeo." Mike said with his usual dry humor. Davy spotted Brenda easily, right in the center of the room. "What do you make of that?"

"That's not good is it?" Davy looked back to Mike. "How are we going to get him back on stage?"

"I'm gonna go talk to him. You stay out here." Mike gave the redhead another look. "I'm sure you can find something to occupy yourself." He teased, enjoying the chance be able to make a joke at Davy's expense. Davy made a face at him, then walked back to sit near the redhead.

Mike made his way over to the backstage area where he saw Micky sitting on a stool in the corner. Peter was leaning on the wall near Micky, a troubled expression clouding his features. Mike looked to Peter and nodded. Peter took his silent signal, and put a hand on Micky's shoulder before going back out on stage.

"I'm sorry, Mike. I don't know...I just lost it when I saw her..." He tried to explain, in a soft voice, unlike the usual hyperactive Micky.

"Hey Mick. Don't worry about it." Mike leaned against the wall where Peter had been. "I think this thing has upset you a lot more than you have let on to us." He studied Micky's downturned face with his deep brown eyes as he tried to think of something to help his friend. "I know there's not much we can do, except be there for you if you want to talk about it. You might not, and that's okay. But let me tell you one thing...she may be a girl, and she may be pretty, and you may have loved her a lot, and there's no doubt she's treated you wrong...but you have to move beyond. Sometimes it's really hard, but..." he sighed as if he knew something of exactly how hard it was going to be for Micky then he continued. "But you have to think about what's important. What means something to you, and let that make you strong. Don't let this Brenda get in the way of what's really important to you."

Micky looked up at the tall Texan, sadness and pain that Mike had never seen before filling his eyes. The masks were off, and Mike knew he was seeing the broken heart he had caught a glimpse of the night before. "You're right, Mike." He said softly, shaking his head. "I don't know how I got so hung up."

"Well, sometimes that kind of thing happens, Micky. I do understand." They sat there a moment, listening to the sounds of the crowded room just beyond. "You think you can go out there and play?" He asked softly after a few moments.

"Yeah." Micky answered. "I think so."

"Good." Mike said as he walked back out toward the stage. "'Cause we really need the money, man!"

Micky nodded as Mike cast one of his infrequent smiles back over his shoulder. "You're gonna be fine, Shotgun." Micky sat there for a few minutes, trying to steel himself to go back out. Keep your eyes on the girl in the blue dress, he thought, as he stepped out on stage and found her in the crowd. If he could just concentrate on something besides Brenda, he thought he might be able to get through this. The blond girl looked a little worried as she said something to one of the waitresses, but when she caught a glimpse of Micky she beamed like sunshine. "You ok?" she mouthed at him. He nodded, embarrassed, and ran a hand through his brown curls as she smiled again. Her open expression and ready smile reminded him of Peter once more, and he couldn't help himself but to return her smile with one of his own.

"Why do you think he ran offstage like that?" Lise asked her friend, Tanya who was a waitress at the Vincent. Tanya sat down a moment, as they watched first the blond bassist, and then the tall dark haired one follow the drummer behind the stage. Lise noticed how Tanya's green eyes followed every move the tall guitarist made, and she smiled to herself. It seems that she was not the only one who had been stricken with the love bug.

"I don't know." Tanya returned, sighing softly as she sat down. It was so good to be off her feet, if only for a moment. She grinned, "Maybe he knows you like him and it scared him off."

Lise shoved Tanya playfully. "That's not funny. He looked upset." She sighed heavily. "He probably wouldn't be interested in me anyway." She looked sad for a moment, and Tanya knew she had hit a nerve. Her roommate was never the optimist when it came to matters of love. Lise shrugged as she looked back to the stage. "He's probably got lots of girls running after him."

"So, what makes you think that you can't be the one that catches his heart?" Tanya said, brushing strands of golden-reddish hair out of her eyes. "You are as pretty as any girl in the crowd. What your problem is, is that you don't have faith in yourself." Tanya gave her younger roommate a knowing look. "You have a much better chance of it happening if you believe it can happen. Go up to him after the show. Say something to him. Introduce yourself. I don't think he will bite...."

"I don't know. I'll think about it." Lise bit her lip when she saw the blond bassist come back on stage and say something to the short Englishman, and a few moments later the tall dark-haired guitar player came back out. Lise didn't miss the way Tanya held her breath upon sighting him. "I think that maybe you need to take your own advice." She said teasingly. Tanya frowned at her as she stood up, her chin set.

"I don't know what you mean." Tanya took away Lise's empty glass as she leaned down beside her. "He's definitely not my type." They shared a smile, and then Tanya said "I've gotta get back to my tables. I'm telling you you ought to take my advice--just go up to him and say 'Hi!'"

"I'll think about it." Lise promised and she looked back to the stage where she saw the drummer, Micky she had heard him called, taking his seat behind the drums. Lise noticed the uncertain look his eyes held, like his mind was far away, but not on something pleasant. He then looked directly at her and their eyes met and held. He looked so unsure of himself for a moment, and her heart went out to him. She wanted to go up on stage and give him a hug, to let him know that whatever was wrong was going to be alright. "You ok?" she asked him silently and her heart fluttered as he ran a hand through his wild curly hair and nodded as he blushed slightly. She smiled at him and held her breath as he smiled back at her.

"Hi. We're the Monkees..." The tall guitar player began in a marked Texas accent. Lise looked over her shoulder and saw Tanya standing against the wall in the back of the Vincent, her green eyes bright in the semi-darkness. And Lise was the one being teased for falling head over heels for a complete stranger.

Lots of people got up to dance as the band began to play "Last Train to Clarksville," but Lise stayed where she was, watching them play. The band moved through two more fast songs that she recognized from seeing them play a month ago at the Club Cassandra, and then they started into a slower song, that the Texan introduced as "Sometime in the Morning." Micky seemed to be looking right at her as he sang, his voice soft at first, but then growing stronger as the song continued. Lise felt her heart leap. He seemed to be singing to her.

The rest of the night had gone rather well, Mike thought as he carefully packed away his prize possession, his sandy colored Les Paul. The crowd in the club was just starting to thin out since the band was done for the night. Micky and Peter were carrying pieces of Micky's drum kit out to the car and Davy was packing up the cords and microphones.

"I thought we played pretty well tonight." Davy said as he took apart one of the microphone stands and put it with the others.

"Yeah. I think they liked that new one of yours." They had added a new song, "Look out Here Comes Tomorrow" to their playlist, and Davy had seemed to have a good bit of success with it.

"Thanks." Davy said, as he grabbed the armful of equipment. "Do you think...he" he nodded toward Micky who was coming in the door "is gonna be okay?" Mike looked up and noticed the concern on Davy's face for his bandmate.

"Yeah, Davy. I think he's gonna be fine. We just need to leave him alone, and let him work this out on his own." Mike looked back to the stage as Micky came up.

"Is this all that's left?" He asked, looking around the stage. He kept looking under the curtains and around on the floor as Mike picked up his guitar case.

"Yeah, that's it." Mike raised an eyebrow at Micky. "Did you lose something?" He asked the question with a tone in his voice that said he had asked it many times before. Micky was always leaving something of his everywhere he went.

"Yeah, I'm just gonna look for my other pair of drumsticks. I couldn't find them when I packed up."

"Well, we are gonna be out at the car, whenever you see fit to join us." Mike turned too quick to see Micky's smirk, but he knew it was there on Micky's face just the same. He tried to hide his own smile as he and Davy went out to the Monkeemobile. "I swear that waitress was checking you out Mike..." Davy said as they made their way to the front door.

Micky smirk changed to a grin. Mike would never believe it. He turned, intending to go backstage and check one more time for his drumsticks and he saw the blond haired girl standing near the stage. He smiled at her as he walked back stage, his heart beating wildly. She was even more beautiful close up. Her hair absolutely glowed like strands of gold in the soft lighting of the club. He shook his head. What was he thinking! Hadn't the Brenda episode taught him anything? Girls were more trouble than they were worth. Let Davy have all the girls, he thought as he looked around one last time for his sticks. They were nowhere to be found, so he took a deep breath and walked back out, trying not to appear interested in her, whoever she was.

"Hi!" he heard from behind him. He turned slowly, and stared right into her eyes, a unique shade of blue-green, he thought crazily. Like the sea.

"Ummm...Hello." he said softly, then shook his head, as if to clear it.

"You guys were really great tonight. I saw you play at the Cassandra last month." She shifted nervously from foot to foot as she stood there. Nice feet, he thought as if from a distance, as he looked down at her brown leather sandals.

"Oh, umm...thanks. We like to play the Cassandra, but we don't have anything scheduled for quite a while there." He forced himself to bring his gaze up to her face as he spoke, but that allowed him to see all the curves in between. Not a good idea, Mick, he thought, as he felt a sudden heat flood his face. He finally reached her eyes again, and cleared his throat nervously.

"Oh." She paused for a long moment. "Tanya said you guys are playing here at the Vincent this Wednesday through Saturday."

"Yeah. We are." He backed up slowly, not trusting himself to stay much longer without saying something he would regret later. "Maybe I'll see you then--" he stumbled over a table and its chair, sending him sprawling to the floor. His head hit the floor, hard, and everything went velvety dark with tiny flashes of light.

"Ouch...." He mumbled as he opened his eyes to the blurry scene of Peter, Mike, and Davy looking down with concern at him.

"Are you okay?" Peter asked, his voice full of worry.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" Davy asked as he held up four fingers.

"Eleven?" Micky said weakly, giving a small smile.

"That's it. He's going to the hospital." Davy declared as he looked over at Mike. "He could have a concussion." Micky snickered and then frowned at the effort.

"What happened to me?" Micky asked as he felt a gentle hand close over his. He tried to lift his head, but the effort was too much. He saw the girl with the sunshine smile look down at him with worry in her ocean colored eyes.

"You tripped over a chair and hit your head on the cement floor." She said simply. He smiled at her reassuringly, not wishing to be the cause of the worry on her face.

"Oh. Don't worry about me. I have a hard head." He said dazedly, bringing her hand up to his lips. He kissed it and then smiled what he thought was his most charming smile.

"Yeah, that's what we tell him." Mike looked back at Lise, shaking his head.

"Let me take a look at that bump." The auburn-haired waitress bent down and lifted the damp towel that Peter was holding to the side of Micky's head. They helped Micky sit up and the waitress looked into Micky's eyes seriously. "My name's Tanya. What's yours?"

"James Cagney." Micky said, smiling slightly.

"Seriously..." She said giving him a stern look.

"George Michael Dolenz." He said in his most business-like voice. "But you can call me Micky." Tanya looked up at Mike, who nodded.

"Where do you live, Micky?"

"The North Pole...1334 North Beechwood." He corrected himself at her serious look.

Another nod from Mike.

"What do you do for a living?"

"I surf."

"Yeah, he's as normal as he can be." Mike declared. "His brains are just rattled."

"He's probably ok, but I would watch him for the next few hours. Don't let him go to sleep for a couple of hours at least." Tanya got to her feet as Peter and Davy helped Micky up.

"Time to go home now, Micky," Peter said as he tried to disentangle Micky's hand from Lise's.

"What's your name?" He asked her, a dazzled look on his face.

"Elise Silver. You can just call me Lise, if you want." She blushed as he finally let go of her hand.

"Okay, Lise." He said quietly, with a goofy smile, as his two friends led him away. "See you soon."

"Bye." She said softly watching him as he looked back just before they got him to the door.

"I bet you're pretty good with kids." Mike said as he and Tanya walked to the door.

"Why do you say that?" She asked, giving him a strange look.

"'Cause you handled Micky pretty well just then." He smiled. "Thanks a lot for your help."

"Anytime." She returned his smile with a warm one of her own.

"Well, my name's Mike Nesmith. If I can ever do anything for you, you just let me know." The tone in his voice let Tanya know that he meant it. This was one man who would not forget someone who did him a favor, she thought as he walked toward the door. "I've got to get Micky home." He explained as he paused, turning toward her.

"I understand. I think that's a good idea."

"Maybe I'll see you here next Wednesday."

"I'm working." She replied, trying to hide her excitement underneath a small smile. "So you can count on it." In actuality, she felt like jumping up and down.

"Okay. Well, see you then." As he turned and left, she let out a huge sigh.

An identical one came from behind her as Elise came up to join her.

"Tell me Mike Nesmith. Do you and your friends always leave a trail of panting women in your wake?" Tanya said softly as she turned to catch the same starstruck look on Elise's face.

Peter awoke with the bright mid-morning sunshine streaming through the patio window. He blinked, and sat up, looking around. Mike was asleep on the other couch and he could hear Davy's snoring from the open bedroom door. Why were they all asleep downstairs? Micky! he thought suddenly as he looked around. He was gone. They had all been up, watching him to make sure he would be okay after knocking himself unconscious last night.

He jumped up and walked into the downstairs bedroom where he and Davy slept. No Micky. Should he wake Mike? Not yet, he thought as he climbed the stairs to Micky and Mike's bedroom. He opened the door to find Micky asleep on his bed, burrowed under the covers.

"Micky..." he said softly, afraid that his friend might not answer.

An unintelligible sound came from Micky's pillows.

"Micky, are you okay?"

Another grunt.

"Can I get you some aspirin?"

"You can get the number of the truck that hit me." Micky mumbled as he sat up carefully. His hair stood up wildly and around the side of his face where he had hit the floor was a dark bruise. He started to touch the side of his face, but then winced. "Ouch." he said with a grimace.

"I'll get you some aspirin." Peter walked into their bathroom, got the aspirin and a glass of water and brought them both to Micky.

"Thanks," he said after taking the aspirin. He flopped back onto his bed and pulled the pillow over his head. "Pete, I feel awful." He mumbled as he shifted around on the bed, trying to find a position which was more comfortable.

"You did hit your head pretty hard. But look on the bright side, at least something good came out of it."

Micky looked over at Peter. "What do you mean?"

"Elise." Peter smiled that sunshine smile again. "She seems really nice."

"Oh." Micky's face grew thoughtful. "Yeah, I suppose."

"I'm going to go wake everyone and make some breakfast. Are you hungry?"

"Yeah. I'll be down in a minute." Micky started to get to his feet then put a hand to his head as he sat back down on the bed heavily.

"Are you sure you feel like coming downstairs? I'll bring something to you?" Peter hadn't liked the look on Micky's face when he tried to stand up.

"Nah...I'm fine." Micky shook his head. "I just feel a little dizzy, that's all."

"Okay. If you're sure." Peter closed the door softly and Micky was left with his thoughts.

Elise was foremost in them. What had he done last night? He thought as he tried to stop his head from spinning. He tried to recreate the scene in his memory, which was kind of fuzzy. He remembered talking to her, her beautiful smile, then waking up after almost knocking his brains out and ...he shook his head as everything became clearer. Had he really kissed her hand? Given her The Smile? He shook his head again, this time in disgust at himself, as he felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. This wasn't what he had wanted at all. He was going to have to make sure he stayed away from Elise Silver. Far, far, away.

The blue Corvair traveled down the road slowly as Tanya read off the numbers on the houses.

"1305, 6, 7... I think we need to go down a little further." She said as they picked up some speed.

"I am not sure about this Tanya. I don't even know him that well, and we are just going to show up at his house." Lise shook her head as she smiled. "You are completely crazy." She declared. "Batty."

"I know. That's why you love me." Tanya smiled, as she pulled a pair of drumsticks out of her oversized purse. "You'll need these."

"What in the world for?"

"I assume they belong to Micky. I found them Saturday, right before closing. Under the curtain. He must have dropped them. And you, my dear, are going to return them."

"Oh...I see." She smiled. "And will you be joining me on this important mission?"

"Well, I have a more practical interest." She said matter-of-factly. "I am only interested in making sure that he is better so that they can play at the Vincent on Wednesday. Chuck asked me to make sure so that he would have at least two days to book another act if necessary." She smiled slyly.

"And that's the only reason?"

"Yes!" Tanya gave Lise a stern look that collapsed into a smile as soon as Lise began to laugh. "Okay... okay, I wouldn't mind getting a look at Mr. Mike Nesmith again. But it's just a look. I don't have time to get myself entangled like you."

"You are the one getting me 'entangled.'" Lise protested.

"You need someone to get you 'entangled'! I know how you are! Look, here it is..." They pulled up at one of the older beach houses on the street. The mailbox clearly said "1334."

"How did you get their address anyway?"

"I have my ways." She said, smiling slyly again. "Chuck gave it to me."

"Oh." They got out of the car, and walked up to the front door, Tanya almost pulling a reluctant Lise up to the front. She banged on the knocker and they both stood back. A small door in the middle of the door opened and someone looked out, then shut the door. Then the front door opened and the blond haired bassist, named Peter, was standing there.

"Hi." He said simply as he smiled at them.

"Hi." Elise said, returning his sunny smile.

"Hello." Tanya also spoke as she tried to get a peek inside, without seeming too obvious.

They stood there for a moment, then heard a voice from inside say "Peter, who is it?" with a familiar Texas accent.

"It's Elise and Tanya from the Vincent."

"Well, Peter, let them in."

"Oh, right. I'm sorry--please come in." Peter smiled and stepped aside as Mike walked to the door.

"Hi." Tanya said when she saw Lise struggling to think of something to say. "I hope you don't mind us stopping by, but Chuck asked me to find out how Micky was doing. He wanted to be sure that you guys are still planning on playing Wednesday night." She subtly nudged Lise, who was looking around the house, probably trying to lay eyes on Micky before he saw her.

"Ummm...and I found Micky's drumsticks after you guys left the other night." Lise looked back up at the tall Texan and then over to Peter. "I didn't know if he would need them."

"Micky's here." Peter said with a smile. "He's upstairs. Micky...MICKY--" Peter yelled loudly and the upstairs door opened and then slammed.

"Peter, I'm coming, you don't have to sc..re..am..." Micky came down the stairs two at a time until his eyes found Lise, then he trailed off and stopped four stairs from the bottom and just stood there. "Hi." He said softly.

"Hi." Lise smiled at him.

"Hi." He said even softer, eyes following every curve of her face.

"Hi." She said again, with a small laugh.

"Oh, man, this is worse than watching Davy and one of his girls." Mike rolled his eyes and then looked to Tanya.

"I think it's cute." Peter whispered to Mike.

"You would." Mike retorted.

"I found your drumsticks at the club. I didn't know if you would need them." Lise held them out as Micky came all the way down the stairs.

"The club..." he said softly, seeming to remember something as he took the drumsticks from her. "Thanks. I did need these..." Slowly he tore his eyes away from her face...but somehow they kept creeping back.

"How are you doing?" Lise noticed the dark bluish bruise which covered the side of his face. It was fading slightly, but it still looked pretty painful.

"Oh...um...fine. Just fine." Micky looked around trying to find someplace else to put his attention other than those ocean blue eyes. He ended up looking back at her and as he did, he felt himself giving her his most charming smile again, almost as if against his will. "Me tripping the other night, that was a pretty dumb thing to do. I'm not usually like that..."

"Yeah, sure." Mike cast a grin over his shoulder as he followed Tanya across the room to the porch where she seemed to be admiring the view. Peter went into the room that he and Davy shared on the bottom floor.

"I didn't think it was a dumb thing to do." Lise replied, looking down at her sandals and back up to him. Micky noticed the way her blond hair fell over her shoulders, which were bare since she was wearing a bright yellow sleeveless dress.

"It was a painful thing to do at any rate." Micky smiled as he leaped down the last four steps. Immediately he knew it had been a mistake to try something like that. Ever since he had hit his head, his balance had been off. He landed a little uncertainly on his feet and Lise put out her arms to steady him. As he swayed, he grasped her arms, trying to regain his balance, and came face to face with her. A look of worry crossed her features.

"Micky, are you okay, really?" He was inches away from her lips, and he found himself thinking of nothing but wanting to kiss her.

"I'm good." He said softly as he gave in, leaned in and kissed her gently. When he broke the kiss, she smiled, eyes closed, and he was again struck by how beautiful her smile was.

"Wow. That was nice." She said as she opened her eyes. He was smiling at her when she opened her eyes, one of those smiles she could fall in love with (boy, could she ever), but then he looked at her very strangely and let go of her hands.

"Oh, man. . . I'm sorry. . . I didn't mean to . . .That wasn't what I. . . " He looked down, trailing off, his face turning pink suddenly as he stepped away from her.

"Micky? Why are you sorry. . ." Lise said confusedly.

"I can't." He looked scared to death, she thought, as she took a step towards him.

It was the same look she had seen on his face at the club before he ran offstage. "Ummm..."he looked down at his watch. "Look at the time. I've got to go." He began backing up across the room, as if unable to tear his eyes away from her. "I really have to go. I would stay, but I promised a friend I would go surfing with him." He got to his drums and sat the sticks down with his others. "I promised Steve...and...this is the only day he can go surfing for two weeks. So, um...thanks for bringing me my drumsticks..." He backed up to the door. "Maybe I'll see you Wednesday, if you are at the Vincent..." He turned then, ready to go out the open back door and ran right into the doorframe. Lise winced, and Micky put a hand up to his forehead.

"Are you okay?" Lise asked as she took a few steps toward him.

"Oh, yeah. I'm fine." Micky turned and Lise could see his blush. "I'm fine. I'll see you later." He turned and left, this time missing the doorframe.

Peter came out of his room when he heard the side door slam. He looked around and there was no Micky, but a sad looking Lise sitting on the steps. Something had definitely gone wrong.

"Are you okay?" Peter came over and sat on the floor near Lise. She looked down at him and tried to smile.

"Oh, sure." She said as she smoothed the edge of her dress, blinking back tears. "That's some crazy friend you have there."

"What happened?" Peter asked, concern evident in his voice and eyes.

Lise started to speak, then just shook her head as Mike and Tanya came in from outside.

"Where in the world did Micky go?" Mike looked over to them. "He just ran out of here like a tornado was after him."

"He said he promised a friend he would go surfing." Lise looked up at Mike, to see what he would say. Mike and Tanya exchanged glances, and Elise knew she had been lied to.

"Oh, I understand." She paused, unwilling to look at any of them. "I'm gonna be out in the car, Tanya." Lise stood up and Mike came over to her, blocking the way between her and the door.

"Hey, look." He said in a gentle voice. "There's some stuff going on that you probably aren't aware of that made him act that way."

"Like what?" Lise looked up at him defiantly. "I mean, if he's not interested, then he's not interested."

"Oh he's interested alright." Mike said, nodding. He motioned to the couch. "Just listen to what I have to say and then if you want to go, feel free."

Lise went to the couch and sat down. Tanya joined her, interested in seeing just how Mike Nesmith was going to handle this.

"Well, you see it's like this. Micky had this girl who treated him really badly. She really . . ." Mike paused, looking for the right words. "She was really some kind of girl." He shook his head. "She hurt him really bad and I don't think he knows...I mean ...look." He seemed to steady himself, and find the right words. He fixed her with his dark brown eyes and said "Ok. It's like this. Micky's heart was broken by this girl, and I just think he's afraid to give it away to anyone again. And if you can't understand that, and don't want to deal with that, that's fine, but I thought you ought to know that it's nothing you did. Mick's a great guy and you seem really nice too, and I'd hate for him to miss out because he just happens to meet the right girl too soon after meeting the wrong one."

Lise looked into Mike's eyes, studying his face, trying to find anything to prove him wrong. She found nothing but truth in his deep brown eyes.

"Mike's right about Micky being afraid." Peter said, as he knelt down beside Lise. He smiled one of his sweetest smiles at her and looked around conspiratorially, like he was making sure no one could hear but the four of them. "But he's so hung up on you he can't help himself. All he did was talk about you all the way home from the club the other night."

"That's what happened on the other end too," Tanya said with a wry smile, looking to Mike.

"What did he say?" Lise asked as she threw a mock murderous stare at Tanya for revealing that she had babbled like a fool about the curly haired drummer all the way home.

"I can't tell you that." Peter blushed and looked down. "But they were good things."

"Well, then. You see?" Mike nodded. "You should at least not rule him out. He just needs a little time to sort everything out."

Lise thought a moment, looking first from Mike to Peter, who had a hopeful look in his eyes. "Okay. It's not like I have guys beating down my door anyway."

"Hey, maybe you should...." Mike paused a moment, thinking. His eyes lit up and he looked to Peter, who looked confused, but then smiled.

Then, they looked to Tanya who said, "Maybe she should? . . . Oh, yeah I get it."

"Well, someone explain it to me then." Lise looked around at the three smiling faces.

"We just need the right person to do it. . ." Mike said, thinking.

At that moment, Davy came in the front door, calling out cheerily. "Hello there!" upon seeing the two girls.

Mike looked to Peter and then to Tanya. "I think we just found our Casanova."

"Uh-oh. Mike. . . I don't like that look on your face." Davy began backing away from him slowly.

"Davy. . . " Mike smiled again.

"What ever it is...No. Definitely not."

"Davy. . ." Peter said with one of his most innocent smiles.

"No way, man. No."

"Davy . . ." Tanya smiled and fluttered her eyelashes at him.

"Oh, no. Last time this happened I had to dress up as a girl." He explained to Elise as he backed slowly away from his bandmates.

"This is going to be much more fun, Davy." Mike said, grabbing his arm. "Now let me tell you what we're gonna do. . ."

Micky wondered if he'd ever blown something so badly in his life as the waves lapped in at his feet. He dug his toes down into the sand as he looked out at the deep blue, late afternoon sea. The white foam spilled in, covering his shorts and t-shirt, which were sandy and very soaked from sitting at the shoreline for so long. His fingers and toes were pruning, but he didn't notice and wouldn't have cared if he had.

Elise was long gone by now, he was sure of it. He'd really taken care of that problem, he thought sadly as he dug into the sand. How could he just lose control of himself so completely? Kiss her like that, then run . . .and run right into the door. The girl should have a warning label on her, he thought with a sad smile as he dug the sand away from around a faint pink shell. He pulled it out, a perfect conch until he turned it over and saw that the points had been broken on one side. He washed it off in the sea water and closed his eyes, feeling the texture of the shell and listening to the rhythm of the waves. The peace of the landscape seemed to wash over him as the water washed over his tanned legs. After a long while he opened his eyes and looked around at the deserted beach. He stood up, trying to guess what time it was. Surely it was at least five, maybe six o'clock. He must have been out here hours, replaying the scene with Elise over and over in his mind. Each time the kiss seemed even more wonderful, which made the memory of the look on her face as he bailed out hurt even more. I've been so stupid, he thought as looked down the empty beach, still holding the broken conch. He'd let himself get scared. What was it Mike had said to him at the club? You have to think about what's important. What means something to you, and let that make you strong. Did Elise mean something to him? Should he try to find out? Maybe it's not too late. . .he thought as he started down the beach, headed for the pad, mind full of possibilities.

Peter was on the porch, looking out into the darkening nighttime. He sighed heavily and walked back in where Mike was sitting quietly, strumming his guitar.

"and now, I feel like such a fool for making you crawl back to me. . . but you did it with such love, that you're standing far above. . .me and all I did to you, I'm sorry now, what I can I do. . ." He sang slowly, as he looked outside, watching Peter.

"Mike, he should have been home long ago." Peter came through the porch door and stood there matter of factly.

"Cool it Peter. He will come back. Don't worry. Just don't forget what we are supposed to say."

"I won't."

Mike began the chorus of the song he had been working on all afternoon. "I know that never in the world, could I have found me such a girl who's there to pick me up before I fall. And if in the end, we should go both our separate ways, I know the lesson I've learned here is worth it all..."

Just as Mike finished, and Peter sat down with his bass, a sunburned Micky came through the back door, slamming the screen. "Hi." He said, with a huge Micky smile. He was holding a huge pale pink conch shell in his hand as he walked over to the phone.

"Well, where have you been all day? You're dripping on the floor." Mike got up and went in Davy and Peter's bathroom to get him a towel.

"I'm sorry, I forgot to take a towel." Micky caught the one Mike threw to him. "Hey, I haven't seen Davy all day. Where is he?"

"Davy came in after you left and he and Elise hit it off." Peter said, smiling an innocent smile. Mike raised an eyebrow at Peter's perfect delivery. It seems Peter had all kinds of skills when he needed to use them for a friend. "They went to the Cassandra for dinner."

Mike thought he detected a subtle fall in his friend's face. "That doesn't bother you does it?"

"Me? No. Not me. Not interested." Micky forced a smile as he toweled his hair dry. "I hope they both have a great time. I just hope Davy doesn't drop her as quickly as the rest of his girls. She's a nice girl. I'd hate for her to become a casualty in Davy's black book." Perhaps it was the tone in his voice, but his joke didn't ring quite right in Mike's ears.

"Well, you never know, Shotgun. It just might be true love." Mike said offhandedly as he turned back to his guitar.

"I'm going to take a shower. I believe it's your turn to make dinner Mike."

"Oh well, yeah, I guess so." Mike put down his guitar reluctantly and stepped into the kitchen, sorry to be taken away from the song he was working on.

Micky shut the door upstairs and leaned against it for a moment before making his way over to the bed. He flopped down on it, sandy shorts and all, and pulled the pillow over his head, closing his eyes tightly against his tears.

Micky shut the door upstairs and leaned against it for a moment with his eyes closed. He looked down at the pink conch shell and suddenly threw it, with all his might against the wall, where it shattered into fragments. After a few seconds he made his way over to the bed, and flopped down on it, sandy shorts and all. Pulling the pillow over his head, he closed his eyes tightly against his tears.

"Do you have to whistle like that, Davy?" Micky looked up from the book he was reading, How to Build Anything in 30 Easy Steps, with an irritated look on his face.

Davy looked over at him from the mirror by the door to his room, where he was combing his hair. "What's wrong with my whistling?"

"Well, for one thing, it's very annoying." Micky sat up on the couch and turned around to look at Davy. "I don't know why you are so happy all the time."

Mike and Peter exchanged looks in the kitchen, where they were doing breakfast dishes. Davy and Elise had been "dating" for five days, and every day Micky seemed to grow even grouchier. Especially towards Davy. Davy had an almost irrepressible good humor though, which served to irritate the drummer even more.

"I'm happy, Micky, because everything is going so well. We are finishing up our last gig at the Vincent tonight and Chuck said last night that he was thinking about keeping us for another week. And I have another date with Elise tonight." Davy added as he turned to go back into his room and so missed the murderous look Micky was giving him. Mike caught it out of the corner of his eye, but turned quickly so that Micky wouldn't realize he had seen.

The phone rang and Peter went to pick it up.

"Hello? Oh yes, he's here. Hang on." Both Mike and Micky were looking up at Peter, wondering if the phone was for them. Peter yelled into his room where Davy was: "Davy it's for you. It's Alicia." As soon as Peter said that he bit his lip and looked over to Micky and Mike. Alicia was Davy's most recent girl, whom he had been dating pretty steadily before Elise. A dark look crossed Micky's face as Davy came to answer the phone.

"Hello? Alicia, love. . ." Davy answered the phone and took it into his room trying hard to ignore the hateful look on Micky's face. Micky said nothing, but walked out to the screen door and slammed it, hard.

"Mike, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that it was Alicia. It just slipped out." Peter looked at Mike with worry in his brown eyes. "I think this is going too far." Peter dried his hands on the dishtowel as he looked out the back door at Micky who paced the porch a couple of times and then headed out to the beach.

"You may be right, Peter." Mike agreed. They both had felt the tension building between Micky and Davy, and were afraid to let it go on much longer. Davy came out of the room with a sigh, looking much more exhausted than a few moments ago.

"He's gonna kill me." Davy said as he sat down heavily on the couch. "You know that don't you? You are gonna come in and I'm gonna be laid out here on the couch with a drumstick sticking out of me back." Then Davy looked around for Micky afraid that he hadn't heard the back door slam as he had thought.

"Don't worry, he's gone." Mike said as he pulled up a chair. "We need to have a meeting of the board."

"I second that motion." Davy said with a sigh.

"I third it." Peter said, sitting beside Davy on the couch.

"You don't need to third it, Peter. A motion seconded is carried." Mike instructed.

"Oh. Okay."

"We have got to decide what to do about this. Davy and Micky can't go on like this. Either Micky's gonna kill Davy. . ." Mike said.

"Or Davy's gonna drop dead from exhaustion." Davy replied as he rubbed a hand across his eyes. "I never knew how hard it would be, to pretend like this. He's really really mad at me."

"We know it's been hard on you. That's why this has to end. Tomorrow."

"What do you think we should do?" Peter asked, watching the porch in case Micky should come back.

"We have to end this thing, but give Micky a chance to see Elise once he knows it's ended. I don't think he's gonna go over to her house. . ." Mike thought a moment. "But we can get her over here. . ."

"I don't get it." Davy said, to Mike's thoughtful glance.

"Don't worry, you will. Now here's what you gotta do. Call Elise and then . . ."

The gig had not gone well that night. The music had sounded just fine, but there had been something missing, Mike thought as he got up and got dressed quietly, so as not to wake Micky. He crept downstairs, enjoying having the house all to himself for once. Everyone except Mike and Peter were late sleepers, and Mike felt that Peter wouldn't even be up this early.

He walked over to the huge bay windows and looked out at the day. It was going to rain, Mike thought. He hoped the outcome of what they had planned would be cheerier than the rain.

But then, anything would be cheerier than last night. Micky's animosity towards Davy had affected the chemistry between the four musicians and playing their last gig at the Vincent had been a chore.

They still had gotten the extension, however. Chuck had wanted them to play the following week with a possible option for a whole month of weekends. Now, if only they could get this thing straightened out with Micky and Davy and Elise. It was all going to hinge on Elise, however. All the guys would be responsible for would be getting out of the house. Mike just wondered if Micky would still be there when they got back.

"What a terrible looking day." Peter said softly from behind him. Mike jumped, startled because he had thought he was alone.

"Yeah, it's really gonna pour." Mike replied. "Can't sleep either?"

"No." Peter sat down, arms around his knees, still dressed in his orange PJ's. "Mike."

"Yeah?" He looked down at Peter.

"Do you think Micky's gonna be mad when he finds out about our plan?"

"Well, if Elise plays her cards right, he won't be for long." Mike gave Peter one of his special smiles that Peter only saw when he and Mike were alone. "Don't worry, Peter. I know it's gonna turn out alright. Micky will understand why we did what we did."

"I hope so." Peter said softly as he looked over his shoulder out at the rain.

It was only a little while later that Mike and Peter woke Davy up and the three of them quietly crept out of the house with a note on the refrigerator to Micky. Micky slept in until his customary Sunday morning 11:30. He woke up to the sound of thunder, but other than that the house was extremely quiet. Micky walked to his door, opened it and listened. "Guys?" He said in a normal voice. The house was so quiet, he was almost afraid to shout.

He walked downstairs, still in his blue striped PJ's and looked around. No Mike complaining over breakfast, no Peter washing dishes, no whistling Davy. He walked over to the fridge, as his stomach reminded him he hadn't yet had breakfast. Tacked up on it was a note from the guys, in Peter's careful handwriting.

Micky,
Mike, Davy and I decided to catch an early afternoon movie. We didn't want to wake you! You looked so peaceful. See you this afternoon!
Peter

Micky found himself wishing that they had woken him up. He had just been alone so much lately. You could bet that Davy would always have something to do, he thought. Davy had been out with Elise every night for the past week. Then he reminded himself that he had been the one to bail out on Elise. It wasn't Davy's fault. He was the one who had been so stupid. Micky closed the refrigerator door, his appetite gone. Slowly he walked upstairs to take a shower and then find something to do for the day, since he had absolutely no one to spend it with.

Elise sat doodling, looking up every few minutes at the clock on the mantle in the living room. "Though you've played at love and lost, and sorrows turned your heart to frost, I will melt your heart again. Remember the feeling as a child when you woke up and the morning smiled..."

She hummed as she wrote the words to one of the songs she remembered Micky singing last night at the Vincent. He had almost broken her heart when she had seen the look in his eyes last night as she left the club with Davy. She had been so close to calling it off then, running to him and telling him that she wasn't interested in Davy at all. But she hadn't, knowing that the guys all thought it would be better to do it when she could be alone with Micky. It had been better to wait, she thought. Except for now, the hours were creeping by so slowly. She had woken up at 7:30, unable to stand it any longer, and by 8 she had been ready. The guys had dropped by at 10, to wish her luck.

She smiled as she remembered the hopeful look on Peter's face.

"I know he will realize that he should be with you. Good luck, Elise." He had given her a hug, and she had returned it with one, unable to keep herself from feeling a spark of hope.

"Okay, Lise. Just treat him like a big kid, tell him what you want him to know. I know he will understand why we did what we did." Davy had given her a hug too, but it was more of a reserved hug, unlike Peter's bear hug.

"You'll do just fine." Mike had said with a small smile, meant just for her.

"Thanks, guys. I hope you are right, 'cause I am sooo nervous," she had said, and none of that nervousness had abated.

She glanced up at the clock again. 11:30. Mike had said to wait till 12:30 to get to the pad, that was about the time that Micky should be up and dressed. Micky never went anywhere before 1:00 on a Sunday he had assured her. The house that she and Tanya shared was absolutely quiet, since Tanya had went with the guys to the movies. She smiled as she remembered the look on Tanya's face when Mike asked her to go. It seemed that the Mike Nesmith type was exactly Tanya's type.

Lise shoved the piece of paper she had doodled the song lyrics on in her pocket and stood up, looking in the mirror one final time. This wasn't so hard to do. Micky was also her type. He just didn't know it yet.

As Micky finished getting dressed and was walking downstairs he noticed someone was knocking on the front door. He came down the steps and opened it, his eyes widening when he saw a drenched Elise standing outside.

"Micky..." She smiled at him through her soaking wet hair. "I had two flat tires about a mile down the road." He was dressed in a black six button shirt and dark colored jeans and looked absolutely wonderful to her.

"Come on in. Are you okay?" Micky opened the door for her, hardly believing she was here. Elise nodded sliently. "Let me get you a towel." He went in Davy and Peter's room and came out with a huge fluffy beach towel, which he promptly wrapped around Elise, who was now shivering.

"It's really raining out there." Elise said, through chattering teeth. "I would have called home but no one was there. I just thought it was better if I walked here, since I was closer."

"Uh....Davy's not here." Micky said softly, as he walked past Elise to shut the door against the rain. Davy was probably out with a girl, Micky thought as he turned back around. How could he tell her that, though? He thought as he looked at her, shivering despite the beach towel around her shoulders. The lightening crashed outside and Elise gave a little start, brushing against Micky's shoulder. He drew away ever so slightly. Elise was with Davy, so he didn't need to get any ideas, he reminded himself.

"I'm afraid of lightening." She laughed nervously. This was going much different than she had planned. Two flat tires hadn't been in the equation at all. Neither had walking a mile in the midst of a raging storm. Ever since Lise had been a kid, she had hated storms.

"It's okay. You'll be fine here. The house is lightening proof." Micky assured her with a smile. "You can stay here till the storm is over, and the guys get back. Is your car off of the road?"

"Yeah." She nodded.

"Good. Then it will be okay till the guys get back with the Monkeemobile and we can go and find you a couple of tires." He paused, thinking. Elise was still shivering.

"The guys are supposed to be gone all afternoon. If you want to change clothes, I might have something that will at least be dry." He offered.

"That would be absolutely wonderful." She said gratefully through chattering teeth.

"Okay, come on up." He climbed the steps first and Elise followed. He opened the door to his room and smiled at her "Don't let any of the mess scare you. The clean side of the room is Mike's."

Elise figured what she meant when she saw that one side of the room was scrupulously neat. The other side looked as if a whirlwind had spun through it. As Micky walked over to the closet, she could hear the scrape of hangers as he went through all his clothes looking for something the right size. She looked around, as Micky kept searching. On the dresser and around Micky's bed was a haphazard collection of things, from a jar full of small seashells to a kazoo and a ukulele. Next to the jar were the large fragments of a broken seashell.

"No...no....no...." She ducked as Micky threw several garments over his shoulder onto the bed. "Don't worry, I'll find something!" He said as he kept looking. Elise decided to make her way over to the other side of the room, out of the line of fire.

Across the room was a huge dent in the wall. Part of the drywall had a couple of small broken places and she ran her finger over it as Micky came out of the closet with a sweatshirt and a pair of old, but comfortable looking jeans.

"What happened to your wall?"

"Oh." he said quietly. "It was cheap drywall." He shrugged as he handed her a sweatshirt that bore the likeness of Shakespeare and a pair of worn jeans.

"They won't look as good as what you had on," as soon as he said that he blushed, she noticed, as if he had let that slip without meaning to. "But they are dry at least." He looked down as he backed up, his hand finding the doorknob. "Ummm...I'll be downstairs." He fumbled with the door, at last got it open and he left.

A few moments later Lise came down the stairs, dressed in Micky's sweatshirt and old jeans, which she had had to roll up at the bottom. He tried to suppress a giggle as she reached the bottom and she frowned at him. "Hey what are you laughing at?"

"Nothing. You look fine. It's just weird, seeing someone else in my clothes."

"I guess I must look pretty silly," She admitted, smiling at him.

"No, not at all. I think you are absolutely beautiful." He smiled back at her, the same smile he had given her when he had finished singing at the club on the night they had met. Her heart leaped and her face must have shown it, because he suddenly looked away, in embarrassment.

"Thanks." She said, trying to catch his eye.

"Sorry. I shouldn't have said that." He turned then and walked over to the windows on the other side of the room. "I'm sure Davy will be back soon." He said, hoping Davy would be back before he did or said something that might cause a further rift in their relationship.

"I'm not here to see Davy, Micky." He turned, looking at her in confusion, as she walked across the room towards him. "I'm here to see you." She looked away as blushed, trying to find the words. "I've never felt so comfortable around anyone before. I know I haven't known you very long, but I can't help thinking when I'm away from you that I want to be near you. To find out more about you. I want to hear your voice, hear you sing, see you smile. . ." She held his gaze. "I know about what you were going through when I met you. Don't be mad at him, but Mike told me."

"Oh really?" Micky said with a glint in his eye.

"Yeah. Please don't be mad at him, Micky. He was only trying to convince me not to give up on you. It was the only way he could see."

"I'm not mad at him." Micky sighed as he sat down on the bandstand in front of his drums, his eyes fixed on Elise. He could hardly believe what she was saying to him. "But what about Davy?"

She looked down as she sat beside him. "This is where you may get mad." Their arms brushed again, and Micky could feel her trembling.

"Hey, it's okay. . ." He took her hand in his. "What's the deal, Lise? Don't worry." He wanted to kiss her, to reassure her, to make her smile, but first he had to hear what she had to say about Davy.

She looked up into his soft brown eyes and then back down as she squeezed his hand. Trying to keep the memory of this moment, in case it was the last one of him she would have.

"Micky, I never was 'dating' Davy. We only did that so that you . . ." She trailed off, unable to say it.

"So that I would realize how stupid I was being." Micky said quietly.

She looked up at him, tears filling her blue eyes. "So that you would get over Brenda. It almost killed me to see your face the other night at the Vincent. You looked so sad, and I wanted so badly to tell you how sorry I was. . ." She shook her head. "This was not a good idea even though we thought we were helping . . ."

"I was going to call you. The day you and Davy first 'went out.'" He smiled sadly as he remembered. "I had done a lot of thinking about something Mike had said to me, and I realized I didn't want to miss this chance. But they told me when I came in that you and Davy had hit it off . . ."

"Oh, we really messed things up didn't we?" Lise looked down, shaking her head again.

"Nah, not too badly. You're here; I'm here. I don't think that we messed up too badly."

Just then the thunder seemed to grow louder and shake the ground. Lise almost jumped in Micky's lap as it startled her.

"Hey, it's okay." He put his arm around her and rubbed her shoulder. She seemed really scared, he thought as he tried to envision how tough it must have been for her to walk a mile in the storm if it made her this nervous.

"Can we get away from the window?" She asked as she stood up, still holding his hand.

"Sure." He motioned to the couch and they sat down. He leaned against the arm of the couch and she leaned back against him pulling his arms tightly around her.

"That's perfect." She said as she leaned against him and closed her eyes.

"Yeah, it's perfect." He planted a kiss on top of her still damp hair and closed his eyes, feeling as peaceful as he had that day on the beach.

"Uh oh...." Mike said as he and Tanya, Peter and Davy pulled up in the Monkeemobile. "Tanya, unless your car is invisible, Elise is not here."

"This could be bad, Mike. She wouldn't have missed getting here for anything!"

"What should we do?" Peter asked.

"He's gonna kill me." Davy said glumly.

"Okay, everybody. Just cool it. Want me to go in first?" This had been Mike's idea in the first place, so he thought he might as well be the first to face the music.

Peter nodded. Davy nodded. Tanya looked at them both in mock disgust. "For heavens sake, I'll go with you Mike. I've never seen such chicken roommates." Davy and Peter promptly made gobbling noises, and Mike shook his head with a slow smile. They both got out of the car and Tanya followed Mike up the front walk. Mike opened the door with his key and they both stepped in.

It was very quiet, something that was unusual when Micky was around. Mike and Tanya stepped in, and they both saw Micky and Elise at the same time. Micky's arms were around Elise and his chin rested gently on the top of her head. Elise's hands held on to his and they were both sound asleep on the couch. Mike looked at Tanya and made a motion like they should leave. Tanya nodded and they exited the house quietly.

"Okay, lets make some noise when we go back in." He opened the door again, rattling his key loudly in the lock. "Peter, Davy . . ." he yelled loudly, "I found my key!" Slowly Mike opened the door and this time, Micky and Elise were both awake. Mike and Tanya couldn't suppress their grins upon seeing the sleepy looks on Micky and Lise's faces.

"Hi, you two." She said with a smile.

"Oh, hi." Lise smiled sleepily as she stretched. Micky gave her a huge smile and then stood up, walking over to Mike as Davy and Peter came in the door.

"Make any jokes and you are dead. You owe me." He murmured softly to Mike as he walked past him nonchalantly and over to Peter.

"So Pete, how was the movie?"

Peter smiled shyly as Micky, then Elise. "Good. How were things here?" He asked cautiously as Elise gave a thumbs up behind Micky's back. Peter beamed and Micky looked over his shoulder, suspiciously at first, but then he smiled at the innocent look on Elise's face.

"Oh fine. Elise had two flat tires on the way over. We need to give her a ride to get them fixed or buy new tires. She got wet walking in the rain to get here."

"I thought those clothes were different than the ones she had on when she left the house." Tanya murmured to Mike as they stood there, both smiling like Cheshire cats when they thought Micky wasn't looking.

"Oh, that's awful, Elise...where were you when it happened. . ." Peter went over to find out the details as Davy finally came inside, relatively sure that he wasn't going to be attacked right away by a disgruntled Micky. He shut the door and looked up as Micky stood there, a serious look on his face.

"First, Micky, before you kill me, let me say that this wasn't my idea at all. I didn't want to do it . . .they talked me into it." He backed up against the front door, closing his eyes, waiting for Micky's reaction.

"Davy, it's cool. This time." Micky smiled. "I've been terrible to you these past couple of days. I'm sorry."

Davy had tensed for the blow he had thought was coming. "Don't kill me Micky!" he had been saying. "Wait, what did you say?" He stopped, looking at Micky in amazement.

"Don't worry about it. Consider us even."

"Oh, sure. Sure." He said in relief, as Micky turned back to Mike, Tanya, Peter and Elise who had all been watching in amusement.

"And that's the last time any of us ever gets any ideas about helping out the rest of us." Micky said with certainty.

Somehow, though, they all knew that that just might not be the case.