* * * * *

It was late evening when the two girls got to the beach. The slightly shorter one, with auburn hair tied up in a ponytail, picked up a solitary stone from the ground and threw it into the water. She watched as it merely sunk.

She sighed. "I’ve never been able to get them to skip."

"It’s all in the wrist," the other girl, with loose curly brown hair, commented.

They continued walking for several minutes before they came across something left on the beach. The shorter girl sprinted for it, then knelt to pick it up. She turned as her friend reached her.

"Looks like someone left their jacket," she said, turning over the blue jacket in her hands. She took note of the thick yellow stripe with a thinner white stripe above it across the chest. She went to unbutton the pocket on the upper left sleeve.

Her friend stopped her. "That doesn’t belong to you."

She thought for a moment. "But it might tell us who the owner it. There is something in the pocket."

"Good point," she conceded.

The shorter girl opened the pocket, peeked inside... and frowned.

"Well, what is it?"

"A card for ‘Shah-Ku’s Health and Strength’," she read, then showed her friend the card.

"There’s an address," her friend said, optimistically.

"That doesn’t mean the owner is there. They could just have the card," she reasoned.

"Well..." her friend began as she turned away from the water, "hey, there’s a house up there. Maybe the owner lives there."

The shorter girl checked her watch. "It’s getting a little late, though..."

"If the owner is there, they won’t care about the time. They’ll just be happy to get their jacket back." She grabbed the other girl’s arm and all but dragged her toward the stairs leading up to the house’s veranda.

"Emma, I’m gonna get you for this!" the shorter girl seethed.

"You don’t mean it, Lauren," Emma said, over her shoulder.

Lauren glared, then gave up and followed willingly.

Emma stopped at the top. "Wow, you can look right inside!"

"Huh?" Lauren came up behind her and stopped. Practically the whole back wall was windows. "They’ve got a bandstand."

"Musicians!" Emma announced, happily.

Lauren took a few steps to the right. "I can’t tell if there’s anyone in there... Hey, wait a minute, I think I see hair."

"Where?"

"They’re laying on the couch."

"I’m gonna knock," Emma said, heading for the door.

"No..." Lauren tried, but Emma had already knocked. She scooted from in front of the windows to stand next to her friend.

After a few seconds, the door opened. A guy with shaggy looking hair stood holding the door. He smiled pleasantly. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"We were walking along the beach and my friend, here, found a jacket."

Lauren mutely held the jacket up, unable to tear her gaze from the guy’s face. She had to admit, though, his surprised look was slightly overdone.

"You found my jacket!" he exclaimed. "I tore apart my whole closet looking for this." He paused. "You found this on the beach?"

Lauren nodded.

The guy set his jaw. "Davy..." he muttered.

"I guess we ought to get going," Emma said.

"Wait a minute, ladies, it’s getting late. There’s some real wackos out there, it just wouldn’t be safe. Would you want to stay here the night? We can make room," he offered.

Emma glanced at Lauren, who was still staring. "Sure, umm..."

He smiled again. "Micky." He stepped back, still holding the door. "C’mon in."

The girls entered and gawked.

"Is all this yours?" Lauren managed.

Micky laughed. "No, the guys went out to a movie. I was too bummed that I lost my jacket to go so I stayed here. They’ll be back in an hour or so."

"Guys?" Emma echoed, a small smile appearing.

"Davy, Mike, and Peter..." Micky began.

Lauren snapped her fingers. "The Monkees! We saw you guys play at the Vincent Van Go-Go a couple nights ago."

"Yeah? How’d you like the music?" Micky asked.

Emma nudged Lauren. "I don’t think she heard the music. Lauren couldn’t keep her eyes off you."

Lauren turned a sharp glare on her friend. "You’re so dead, you know that."

"Hey, I think it’s cute!" Emma said.

"Yeah? Well, you couldn’t stop saying how much you like Mike’s hat!" Lauren retorted.

"I love that hat! And his sideburns, and..." Emma said, dreamily.

Micky cleared his throat, loudly. "As much as I hate to break up the admiration society..." He winked at Lauren. "...I don’t even know your names."

"Emma." She smiled.

"Lauren." She gave an embarrassed smile as she blushed.

"That’s better," he said. "So, uh... you wanna watch tv?"

* * * * *

Emma moved around the kitchen like she’d been in it hundreds of times. She was only supposedly getting a bowl of cereal, but it seemed to be taking her forever.

Atleast to Lauren. She was cursing Emma mentally from her seat on the couch. Her face was still flushed from embarrassment... and Micky being in close proximity was not helping one bit. Every time she took a quick glance at him, he’d moved a little closer, but kept his eyes fixed on the tv. Within moments, he was right next to her, the arm he’d had stretched out over the back of the couch was now directly behind her. It wouldn’t take much for Micky to drop his arm around her shoulders. She’d love it if he did, but she was pretty sure she’d flip out first.

Micky still kept his eyes locked on the tv. He couldn’t get any closer to Lauren without one of them sitting on the other’s lap. As nice as that sounded, he was sure it would scare her. Just from what he’d already seen, he knew she wasn’t the outgoing type and was extremely nervous over the situation. He was wracking his brain, trying to figure out what else he could do to get through to her.

Emma finished making her bowl of cereal and, without paying an ounce of attention to the two on the couch, she headed straight out onto the veranda, making herself comfortable outside.

Lauren rolled her eyes. She’d been set up. She knew Emma meant well, but this was a dirty trick. Micky didn’t even know the trick, but he was playing along perfectly. Maybe he does know the trick. And then she nearly went through the ceiling: Micky’s arm was now around her shoulders, his finger tips brushing her arm to some beat she couldn’t recognize. She was trapped... but it was hardly a bad thing. She just didn’t have a clue of what was going on. She’d just met the guy!

Micky felt her stiffen once he moved his arm. He’d expected that, he’d also expected her to squirm away, but she didn’t. Lauren remained next to him and seemed to be slowly relaxing. He glanced at the clock across the room and cursed it for announcing he only had another 20 minutes or so to get her talking before the others came back. If only he could think of something to talk about. What is wrong with me? He mentally kicked himself. He wasn’t like Davy, but he could handle himself rather well around girls, yet something about Lauren made his brain tilt like a pinball machine.

"So how long have you guys lived here?" Lauren finally spoke up, her voice waivering a bit from nerves.

"A couple years," Micky replied with a shrug. "How long have you two been here? I don’t remember really seeing you before and I’ve got a pretty good memory for faces."

"Just a couple weeks. It was supposed to only be as a bit of a getaway vacation, but we just decided to hang around. Unfortunately, neither of us have found a job yet and Emma’s already used up her savings and mine’s being depleted pretty quickly."

Micky paused before replying and said carefully, "I know the guys will probably have my head for this, but we’ve got two rooms, one down here and one upstairs. There’s plenty of room and the four of us could share down here. Or something like that. Umm... would you like to stay here? We aren’t exactly current on our rent, but with six of us we should be able to pull together."

"You’re serious? We just met!" Lauren paused, a thoughtful look crossing her face, despite the outburst. "I’m okay with it. I’m willing to bet Emma would be, too."

"I am serious. I have a knack for reading people. I think we’ll get along pretty well." Micky stood. "You wanna see the room?"

Lauren shrugged. "Sure! It’s gonna be ours, anyway."

Micky led her up the tornado staircase as Emma came back in from the veranda. She smirked.

* * * * *

The front door opened and three Monkees entered the house.

"That is the last time I go to the movies with you two," Mike said, headed towards the kitchen.

"Oh, come on, Mike, we were just having a little harmless fun," Davy argued.

"Besides," Peter began as he held up a candy box, "the JuJuBee boxes make great instruments!" He blew out a note on the box to prove his point.

Mike froze, looking out towards the veranda. His eyes had landed on a girl sitting on one of the beach chairs. "Man, I don’t know what Micky’s been up to..." He started for the door.

"Hey, guys!"

Mike spun around and shot a glare up at a smiling Micky. He pointed out toward the veranda. "Explain, please."

Micky gave a nervous chuckle and started down the stairs. "Well, it’s a funny story, kinda..." He reached the bottom and came face to face with Mike. Micky frowned at Mike’s serious expression. "Okay, maybe not funny funny..."

"What’s going on?"

Three heads turned surprised looks up at the girl leaning on the railing on the second floor. Mike turned back to Micky, and said warningly, "Micky..."

Micky put up both hands and backed up against the railing. "Hold on a second, Mike. I invited them--"

"That doesn’t help your case," Mike interrupted.

Micky sighed and pointed up at Lauren. "She found my jacket on the beach." He glared at Davy, then let out all in one breath: "She and her friend really don’t have anywhere else to stay and I thought I’d do something nice so I invited them to stay. They can stay up there and all of us will be down here--"

"Micky!" Mike interrupted, loudly. "I can’t understand you when you talk like that!"

Davy moved closer. "Micky, you don’t even know them and you invited them to stay here? Isn’t that a little... crackers?"

"Guys, really, I’m just trying to do a nice thing," Micky said, still pressed against the railing.

"Besides, we also don’t know you guys from a hole in the wall," Emma commented, coming inside from the veranda. "But it’s an incredibly unselfish gesture and quite welcome."

"I’m sure it’ll be just a platonic relationship," Peter said, earning glares from everyone.

Mike sighed. "Fine, they can stay, but for now, it’ll be just a few days, just a trial run. And Babbitt will probably blow a gasket."

"Thank you, Mike!" Micky exclaimed, proceeded to give Mike a quick hug, then led Emma to the second floor to show her the room.

Mike moved next to Peter. "Platonic?"

Peter gave him a small smile. "Micky and the shorter girl." He shrugged. "I can just feel it."

Davy raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

Peter nodded, then paused, a frown appearing. "It comes and goes."

* * * * *

Lauren stood in front of a dresser, looking at all the odd items set on top of the drawers. Among the clutter were guitar picks, strings, one drumstick, a couple sea shells, a string of love beads, a headband that read "BEADS"... and a heel lift. She picked up the odd item, turned so Emma could see what she had, and held it to her face.

Emma smirked, seeing that Lauren was going cross-eyed looking at the odd thing. "What the heck is that?"

"It looks like a heel lift. Like what you put inside your shoe to make you taller. I could use this sort of thing," Lauren said, then paused. "Think I should ask?"

"Knock, knock," Micky said, poking his head in the room. "Darn, you’re both decent!" He smirked entering the room, but it fell just as quickly. He blinked at the item Lauren was holding.

"Should I ask?" she said.

He made a face and sighed. "One of my legs is a quarter inch shorter than the other." Micky snatched the lift from Lauren’s hand. "It’s a little easier moving around with one of these in my shoe, or else I limp everywhere."

"Oh... I didn’t know. It just struck me as odd seeing it with all this other stuff," Lauren explained.

Micky tossed the lift back on top of the dresser and let a smirk spread across his face. "You couldn’t ask about the "BEADS" headband?" He leaned one arm on the dresser and winked at her.

"Here’s a question," Emma spoke up from her seat on what was Mike’s bed. She held up two wool hats: one green with six white buttons and one plain blue. "Mike has one for every occasion?"

"Let’s see, he’s wearing the plain green, he’s also got a white one and a grayish-green one, so yeah, he kinda does," Micky replied.

"Umm... I’ve got another question..."

Micky turned back to Lauren. "And what did you stumble upon this time?"

"What’s with all this hair stuff?"

Micky ran a hand through his shaggy hair. "That’s mine. My hair is naturally curly, but I had been straightening it. It looks neater and I thought it might help if I landed a job." He paused. "I’m letting it go curly again since I haven’t exactly come even remotely close to finding a job, not even part time."

Emma leaned back watching Lauren continue to rummage. She chuckled. "Micky, I can’t believe you’re letting someone who’s practically a stranger rummage through your things. I won’t even mention about us staying here."

"I meant what I said." Micky paused, then added, "It isn’t like I’ve got anything to hide. Most of my belongings are spread out over the room anyway."

"Reminds me of my room," Lauren said, with a smile.

"Oh, geez, speaking of which, we don’t have our bags. They’re still at the apartment," Emma said.

Lauren smacked her forehead. "Maaan... pajamas would be useful, too."

"Up for a quick trip?" Micky asked.

"You mean go and get our stuff?" Lauren said, glancing at Emma, who made a face. "Well, I wouldn’t mind going. I can grab all of our stuff. It isn’t like we had that much with us."

"I’ll drive ya. Maybe, meanwhile, Emma can get to know Mike a little better," Micky said, with a wink, then left the room.

Lauren began to follow, but stopped at the door. "Not a bad idea, you know." She turned and headed for the stairs.

Emma considered it for a moment, then smiled.

* * * * *

Emma sighed, puttering around the kitchen. She and Mike were alone in the pad. The other three offered to help Lauren retrieve their luggage from their tiny apartment on the other end of Beechwood. She tried to ignore Mike, who sat at the green-splotched table. She was never very good at talking to guys, especially ones as good-looking and smart as the lanky Texan. Sure, she’d watched him at the Vincent Van Go-Go, but it took all her courage just to persuade Lauren to pick up Micky’s jacket and bring it up here.

She peered in the cabinets. "Do you guys ever eat? The only things you have in here are two boxes of corn flakes and a can of tomato soup." She opened the refrigerator and closed it quickly. "Tell me you have more to drink than a bottle of milk and a half-full carton of orange juice!"

Mike made a face. "We’re not exactly wealthy, you know. If we hadn’t had that gig at the Vincent Van Go-Go a few days ago, we wouldn’t be able to afford the cereal, milk, soup, and orange juice."

Emma shrugged. "We’ve got some food at our place, and I can cook. I’ll whip something quick up when everyone else gets back."

Mike frowned. "You don’t sound like you’re from around here."

"You don’t, either," she reminded him. "I’m from the southern tip of New Jersey, Lauren’s from northwestern Massachusetts. We met when we were both going to college in New York and hit it off right away. We didn’t know what to do after we finished school, so we took this trip out here and decided we liked California." She sighed. "We want to stay, but it’s harder to find jobs than either of us expected."

Mike rolled his eyes. "Tell me about it. The guys and I are lucky if we can get one gig a month. The landlord is constantly beating on our door, we’re six months behind on our rent and more than a month behind on our union dues and other bills, and instruments aren’t exactly cheap to take care of."

Emma walked around the living room, inspecting all of the odd items. "This place is beyond groovy. I have some junk, old toys and books mostly, and Lauren has a huge record collection, but we’ll find places for them. We could move a few things, and I have pots and pans and silverware…"

Mike got up from the table, shaking his head. "Whoa, slow down! We didn’t say you could stay here permanently! It’s just a few days!"

Emma smiled. "Well, we’re going to need places to put stuff for a few days, and this place does need to be cleaned."

"But Babbitt will have a fit…"

She settled on the psychiatrist’s couch. "We’ll handle that hurdle when we come to it."

"Do you always barge into people’s homes like this and move in?"

The shorter, plump young woman glared at him. "Only when we find a jacket on the beach and are invited to stay by its owner."

"I’m gonna get Micky when he comes back," Mike muttered. "He should have checked with me first before he let a bunch of girls move into our pad." He hated to admit it, but he admired this girl’s spirit, even if her telling him how to organize the pad drove him nuts. She wasn’t at all bad to look at, round and curvy where most girls were skinny as a beanpole. She had dark gray eyes hidden under a pair of thick glasses and a clear, deep-peach complexion tanned nicely by the California sun.

Emma couldn’t bring herself to meet his penetrating gaze. She ran her fingers over the couch instead. Why does he have to be so darn good-looking…not to mention stubborn as a mule? "We really don’t have anywhere else to go. We have no relatives on the west coast, and we can’t find another place cheaper than the one we have."

She grinned, finally looking up at him. "Lauren’s crazy about Micky, and has been since we were at the Vincent Van Go-Go the other night. All she did was watch him. I don’t think she remembered I was there until you guys ended your set." She giggled. "I think they’re so cute, and so perfect for each other!"

Mike shook his head. "They’d be cuter if Mick would consult the rest of us before he starts renting our rooms out. This really isn’t our place to be inviting people off of the beach."

"Why are you making such a fuss?" Emma grumbled. "It’s not like you don’t have plenty of room, and we won’t be any trouble."

"We’ve got enough trouble as it is," Mike explained. "If Davy isn’t chasing girls and girls aren’t chasing Davy, Peter’s being conned by some huckster or Micky’s blowing something to hell and gone with his chemistry set. We don’t need things to be any crazier than they already are."

"How would two nice, normal girls moving in make things worse?"

Mike threw his hands in the air and sat on the chair by the TV set. "We don’t know you from Adam and Eve!"

"What if we chatted after dinner and got to know one another?"

"What if I don’t want to get to know you?"

Emma glared at his scowl. "I’m starting to wonder if I want to know you, either. We’re staying here, Micky asked us to, and you can stop acting like a five-year-old about it right now."

"And you can stop remodeling the pad right now," Mike snapped back. "We like it the way it is."

"Fine! Have it your way!" Emma turned away from him in a huff, cursing faintly in French under her breath.

"Fine!" Mike moved to the bandstand and grabbed his guitar as the others walked into the door, their arms loaded with bags of various sizes and colors. Peter carried a cooler and a box full of food.

Micky made a face. "I think we just walked in on World War Three."

Mike shot him a pointed glare. "And you’re the one that started it!"

"What the heck is going on?" Lauren asked, noticing Emma’s expression.

"We had some differences," Emma concluded.

"Differences..." Mike repeated, strumming Black Beauty.

"Can’t you resolve your differences?" Peter asked, placing the cooler on the counter and the box on the table.

"What’s this all about, anyway?" Micky asked. "I wanna know what I’m being blamed for."

"You invited two girls we don’t know to stay here, which we don’t own. We don’t have the room for them or their stuff!" Mike replied, accentuating the argument with a chord.

Micky looked taken aback. "Michael, I thought I was doing something nice! I have to consult with you, is that it?" He put down the bag he was carrying and walked over toward the bandstand. He stopped in front of Mike and crossed his arms. "We have equal share in this house and you know that. If I wanna invite someone to stay here, I can do that. We’ve got a couch and the other can have my bed. I’ll sleep on the floor, unless..." He turned a rather lecherous smirk over his shoulder towards Lauren, who stuck out her tongue in response. Micky turned back to Mike. "Like I said, I’ll sleep on the floor. But I said they can stay, and dammit, Mike, they can stay!"

Davy applauded, while Peter gave a small smile.

Mike sighed. "Fine, Micky, you win. They can stay, but pardon me if I don’t make an effort to make friends."

* * * * *

Later that night, the moon cast a blue glow over the beach. Two people sat side by side, looking out over the water.

"She really is crazy about him, even if she won’t admit it."

He chuckled. "I’ve got a feeling he likes her, and he really won’t admit it."

"So what can we do about it?" Lauren asked.

Micky gave a light shrug. "I’ve got a chemistry set..."

Lauren quirked an eyebrow. "I don’t think that’s quite necessary. Not yet, anyway." She paused. "We could try getting them to talk again..."

"They’ll probably end up biting each other’s heads off again." Micky shook his head. "As much as I’d like to see Mike get his head bit off, it won’t solve anything." He sighed. "Guess we’ll just have to live with it for now."

"Yay," she said, unenthusiastically.

"You got a real knack for sarcasm, there, babe," Micky commented, grinning.

Lauren turned a narrow-eyed look to him. "Babe?"

Micky’s eyes widened. "Uh... it just kinda slipped...?"

Her expression softened. "It’s okay, Micky... I like it." She smiled. "Thank you."

"No, thank you," he returned.

"For what?"

"Bringing my jacket back." Micky smiled and leaned over, closer to her. She moved closer, but not as quickly. His smile widened. "I won’t bite..." She moved closer. "...unless you want me to..." Lauren gave a split-second wide-eyed look before he closed in on the kiss.

They separated and Lauren still had the same look. "Uhh..."

Micky grinned. "You’re welcome."

~End~