Everyone ready to rescue Mike and Peter?

Valerie: I want my husband back...and fully human, please.

Micky: Yeah!

Davy: Ready.

(We open in the Beach Cave. Emma sits with Robbie on her lap. Katie's on the floor, playing blocks with the twins. Valerie holds a tiny baby with a fuzz of gold-brown hair in a pale blue blanket in her arms. All the adults wear their uniforms.)

Emma: (Looks up as Micky and Lauren make their way back into the main room, with Leah close behind) Hi. Got Leah's boo-boo cleaned up?

Katie: I told 'ya you shouldn't go runnin' in the front cave! There's big ol' rocks there!

Leah: *Quietly* I was tryin' to be careful.

Emma: (Sighs) Don't start, guys. Katie, leave Leah alone. It happens. Didn't you trip on the front step and scrape your knee so badly the other day, it required three very large bandages to stop the bleeding?

Katie: (Mutters) Yeah...

Micky: *Puts a hand on Leah's head* You're all kids. Boo boos happen.

Lauren: And also occasionally to us klutzy adults, *elbows him* right, Mick?

Micky: Yeah.

Valerie: (Grins) Peter's a big klutz, too. So's Jordan.

Jordan: I'm always falling down.

Emma: (As Davy, Daphne, and Lizzie come in the Cave) Hey, guys. Ok, we're all here.

Valerie: (Rocks her new son; he fusses) Shhh, Austin. Shh. Mommy's here. (To the others) He must feel what I do - Peter.

Jordan: I'm tired. I don't feel like doin' anythin'.

Valerie: But it's really bad this time. Worse than before. I can barely pick up poor Austin.

Emma: Stella must have drained Peter the way she did Alex. (Puts her head in her hand) But not Mike. Mike's angry and confused and trying to decide if he's human or animal...but he hasn't been drained so badly he can't move. They want him for something else.

Micky: I think I have an idea what.

Emma: (Growls angrily, clenching her fist) Yeah, me too. An energy-sniffer. Someone who can use his super-sensitive senses to find them energy...then get into bed with Stella at night. A pet. A dog.

Micky: Bingo.

Katie: (Also growls) Papa's not a doggie! Not all the time, anyway.

Robbie: No doggie! Papa!

Emma: There has to be a way into Dark Star without them knowing it's us. I can't use the article excuse now. Stella caught us in the private suite.

Micky: Perhaps we could go in saying we're interested in the contracts...

Emma: I don't know. They attacked Mike and Peter when they did that...

Micky: Yes, but we'd be ready with a counter attack.

Valerie: (Nods) Right. We'll be more prepared.

Emma: What did you have in mind, Mick?

Valerie: Don't tell me. Just kick the heck out of them and walk out.

Micky: Okay, I won't tell you.

Emma: Toooo much time with Mike.

Davy: Definitely, Em.

Emma: (Sighs) What about us ladies?

Micky: Come with us. The more, the merrier.

Emma: Won't that give the game away?

Valerie: Not if we distract Stella while they handle Belavarg.

Micky: Exactly.

Valerie: You and Lauren know where this private room is. You can take us to Dark Star, and we'll find out what happened to those musicians.

Emma: And if she's not there, she may be at the mansion, or somewhere else.

Lauren: *Nods* Yeah.

Emma: Micky and Davy, if Belavarg tries anything like what he did to Peter and Micky, anything out-of-the-ordinary, get out of there. Immediately. Before he shorts out your Imagination Powers.

Micky: Right.

Emma: All right. You boys call Belavarg's secretary and see if you can set up an appointment for this evening. We'll drop the kids off at the Cartwright Mansion and Micky's mom's house and head back to Dark Star.

Micky: Consider it done. I have some great ideas...

(Micky leans animatedly over the group as the children play with blocks, the adults lean in to listen to him, Austin and Robbie nap, and we fade out on the rather charming scene.)

(Fade in on Belavarg's office in Dark Star Records. Belavarg himself, in human form, sits behind the desk, looking out the window. Sheila comes in. She's in full professional mode, from the tip of her expensive leather heels to the top of her perfectly coiffed red head. She puts one hand on her hip as she comes in the door.)

Sheila: Hello, you old reprobate. What did you want to see me so badly for?

(She settles down in a chair in front of the desk, crossing her legs and putting her briefcase on top of her knees.)

Belavarg: A partnership.

Sheila: Of what kind? (Smirks) Something with Dark Star Records?

Belavarg: Yes. I'm looking for someone who's capable of running anything and everything.

Sheila: Does that include running into your bed?

Belavarg: Ah, you know me so well.

Sheila: (Crosses her arms) Wouldn't include trying to get your hands on PPF as well, would it? It's even more profitable than this little musical sinkhole you've created here. How did you manage to get this place started so quickly, anyway?

Belavarg: That's my little secret. As far as PPF goes, it depends on how well we work together.

Sheila: I'm not interested in a partner, Bela. I wasn't when my uncle was alive. I'm not now.

Belavarg: That's a shame, Sheila.

Sheila: You say that now. If I remember correctly, my uncle banished you from our group because you tried to kill him, then manipulate my mind and get me in bed...and I have no doubt you would have killed me if Uncle hadn't caught you.

(Belavarg leans over to take her hand. She merely pulls it back and onto her briefcase.)

Sheila: Now now. Down, boy. I'm not in that kind of a mood this afternoon.

Belavarg: No? How surprising.

Sheila: I have...others...I'd rather have in my bed. You were never my favorite partner anyhow.

Belavarg: That hurt.

Sheila: You're no knight. Only an especially skilled druggist. I want a real man, Bela. One who'll show me passion and challenges my soul. (Leans a little closer as Belavarg raises his hand, smirking) The White Knight is the only man I'll ever want. I want you to help me get rid of that silly Scholar he's fancied for centuries. She's not good enough for him. Just a common, fat little whelp.

Belavarg: What would you say if I said we already have the Knight?

Sheila: I'd say I want proof. I've captured him before...and he's escaped my grasp every time.

(Sheila leans in even closer to him, practically eye-to-eye now.)

Belavarg: Who's to say that I haven't captured him? *Suddenly tosses a gray powder in Sheila's face*

Sheila: (Coughs and pulls back as Belavarg lifts his hand again and starts waving it back and forth in her eyes) What was that.... (her eyes follow his hands...and the large ring on his right index finger) ...oh...I...I feel...strange...

(Sheila moves doll-like over to Belavarg, ending up on his lap.)

Belavarg: I see you've changed your mind, my dear. *grins as he starts running his hands over her* I'm looking for 50% of everything, Sheila, including you. What do you say? *kisses her*

Sheila: (Sighs) I...I... (She's about to lean over to kiss him again when a small, plump older woman in a simple suit enters the room)

Secretary: Sir... (Blushes) I see you're busy...

Belavarg: What is it?

Secretary: Um, Headquarters Records called, sir. Something about letting two of their contract stars go and having them come to you...

Belavarg: Really? Did they say who?

Secretary: A Micky Dolenz and David Jones. You know, they used to belong to some kid's rock group called the Monkees? They had specials ever spring and fall. My youngest loved them, especially that cute Davy.

Belavarg: Excellent. Thank you for bringing this to my attention.

Secretary: They wanted to see you at your earliest convenience.

Belavarg: I'm free when they are. The sooner, the better.

Secretary: How about 4'o'clock? Would that be all right? I'd have to check with them, of course, but you have nothing on your schedule then.

Belavarg: Perfect.