Micky was woken by the wail of one of the babies, which was followed by a shake. He turned over and stared sleepily at Lauren.

She smirked. "It’s your turn, Mick."

"A’right..." He sat up and stayed there a second before dragging himself to his feet. He scuffed his way across the bedroom, over to the cribs. He glanced in the first one and found Shelly sleeping soundly... despite her brother’s wails. Micky rolled his eyes and picked up little Micky.

He held the crying boy to his chest as he left the bedroom, headed towards the stairs. He made his way down them, walked through the living room, and made a right turn into the kitchen.

Micky grabbed a bottle from the second-hand fridge and set it on the countertop. Next, he grabbed a pot and filled it with water, then set it on the stove (which was a gift from Lauren’s parents). He turned the burner up to medium heat and set the bottle in the water.

As he waited, he dragged one of the dining room chairs he’d made into the kitchen and sat, still holding the boy in the same position. He frowned as the baby continued to make his hunger known.

"C’mon, little Mick, I know you’re hungry... for that matter I am, too, but you gotta quiet down first." The baby boy just continued to wail. Micky smirked, looking into the boy’s reddened face. "You’re making me wish there was another me to help out when you get loud like this."

A few minutes later, Micky got up and went over to the stove. He tested the milk and found it the right temperature. He set the bottle on the counter and proceeded to turn off the stove and remove the pot from the burner. He picked up the bottle again and returned to his perch.

Little Micky took the bottle gladly and immediately quieted. Micky smiled, watching the boy.

About half way through the bottle, something caught Micky’s eye. He glanced around the kitchen, then turned to look behind him into the breakfast room. He made a face and let little Micky finish his bottle. Once he was done, Micky set it back on the counter and left the kitchen, still holding the boy to his chest, now with both arms.

Micky glanced around the living room. "Lauren?" He received no answer. He headed over to the bandstand and stopped cold. His eyes widened.

He sat at the drumset, twirling his sticks. He did a bit of air drumming before looking up, catching Micky’s wide-eyed look. "Uh, hi." He offered a wary smile.

Micky knew that voice, knew that face, and knew that bit of air drumming. He swallowed hard as he stared at... himself. "What did I do?" he said to himself.

The other Micky set the drumsticks down and got up from behind the drums. He walked over to the still stunned, real Micky. "You look familiar." He grinned.

"Wh--" Micky stuttered, then finally managed, "where did you come from?"

The other Micky gave him a weird look. "Los Angelas."

Micky groaned. "Oh, man..."

"The little guy was wailing again, huh?"

Micky nodded... and it hit him. His eyes widened again. He knew what happened, or atleast had a really good idea about it.

The other Micky reached out and touched the boy’s head lightly. He smiled. "Still can’t get over it..."

"Get over what?" Micky asked, worry creeping into his voice.

He just looked at him weird again. "That I’m a dad." It came out like he’d expected Micky to know that.

Micky did know that... he knew it was true of himself and not this...

"Lemme hold him."

Micky shook his head. "No." He backed off. His other self was acting like he didn’t even know he was talking to... well, himself.

The other Micky frowned. "Why not? He’s my son!"

"No, he isn’t! He’s my son!" Micky exclaimed.

He just laughed. "Alright, man, joke’s over." He held out his arms. "Lemme take him back upstairs and put him to bed."

Micky’s head was starting to spin. This had to be a nightmare... that would certainly explain it.

"Mick, what’s going on down here?"

Both Micky’s turned to find Lauren at the top of the stairs, still rubbing sleep from her eyes. She finally took a good look... at both of them. Her eyes widened. "George Michael Dolenz, Jr., what the hell did you do?!"

Micky cringed at the use of his full name. "Babe, I--"

The other interrupted. "What’re you talking about, babe?"

"What?" Lauren had an incredulous look on her face. She descended the stairs and walk right up to both of them. She looked from one to the other, a frown now appearing. She took the boy from Micky, who had been frowning already. The other matched the look. She shook her head. "I’m sorry, Micky, whichever one you are. We’ve had enough dealings with doubles as it is." She sighed, once again giving both of them a good look. "And... I’m getting that feeling from both of you. I can’t tell you apart." She turned, headed back for the stairs.

Micky whirled on his double. "Thanks alot, pal! See, what you just did?!"

"Me?" The other asked. "You were the one making all the noise!"

"But you’re the double that just appeared out of..." Micky trailed and watched Lauren stop just before the stairs. She turned and walked back over. The other just stood with his arms crossed.

Lauren turned to Micky, who was still watching her. "Your powers did this." Micky nodded. "Why--?"

Micky frowned again and looked down at the floor.

The other jumped in. "It was awful what happened with the Purple Flower Gang, but accidents happen!"

Lauren looked at both again. One looked guilty. The other tried to explain himself. Both were ways the real Micky would handle being at fault. She sighed. "I’m going back upstairs. I want you two to work this out and I want my Micky back by morning." She turned and headed for the stairs again.

This time, both watched her go and kept quiet until she rounded the landing and continued up the second half of the stairs.

Micky spun on his double and poked him in the chest. "If it wasn’t for you just appearing outta nowhere, I’d be back in bed by now!"

"What’re you talking about?" the other asked. "I’m the one who’s been here all along. You disappear to where ever you came from before I send you there myself!"

"And how do you plan on doing that?" Micky asked.

The other held a hand out and a ball of dark blue appeared, causing Micky’s eyes to widen. "Like this!" He threw the ball at Micky.

Micky was caught off guard and got the ball right in the stomach. It sent him crashing to the floor, holding his stomach. He coughed, taking in air. "No fair..." he wheezed.

The other made another ball appear. "Yes, it was."

Micky sat up and backed up, moving himself across the floor. "I’m already down...!"

His double threw the other ball, hitting Micky in the chest this time. He fell back and hit his head on the hardwood floor, knocking him out.

The double flickered, his eyes widening. "Oh, crap...!" He flickered again. He went over to Micky and knelt by him, shaking him lightly. "C’mon, man, wake up... Micky, wake up..." He flickered again and turned to the stairs. "Lauren!!" He continued to lightly slap Micky’s face, as he kept flickering.

Lauren came running down the stairs and by the time she got to them, the double was already fading. "What happened?!" She knelt by Micky, taking up where his double left off in slapping.

"I used my powers on him. He fell back and hit his head," the other Micky explained. He sighed. "And it looks like I’m not the real Micky."

Lauren turned in time to watch the double fade out completely. She stared at the emptiness for a moment, until Micky coughed. She turned back and saw his eyes flutter. She gave him a light slap.

Micky’s eyes cracked open. "Babe...?"

"He’s gone, Mick."

"Good." He groaned. "Man, have I got a headache..."

* * * * *

Micky awoke the next morning to the feeling of an icepack being placed on his head. He cracked his eyes open and saw Lauren smile down at him. "Hiya, babe." He grinned weakly.

Lauren returned the grin. "Hi, Mick. How do you feel?"

"Other than the headache, just peachy." He paused. "Is he really gone?"

She blinked. "Is who really gone?" She quirked an eyebrow.

"The other me. You said he was gone."

Realization crossed Lauren's face. "Mick," she paused, trying not to laugh, "I think you were dreaming. You must've gotten up in the middle of the night, headed for the bathroom, and tripped over the clothes you left on the floor last night."

"What?"

"I heard the thud and you were out cold."

Micky's cheeks flushed. "Oh, man..." His eyes closed for a moment, then reopened. "Whatta nightmare I had, then. I dreamt I somehow made a duplicate of myself, who really thought he was me and you didn't know the difference. And he used his--my powers on me and knocked me out. He'd disappeared while I was out..."

Lauren's eyebrows lowered. "Again with the doubles?"

"Yeah. Man, it was terrible." He put a hand to his head and cringed. "Guess I did a good number on my head, huh?"

She frowned. "Yes, you did. And it scared me. I know you've got a hard head, Mick, but there's no need to prove it. " She gave a small half grin.

Micky's eyes flicked over the nightlight... with the burnt out bulb. "Gotta get a new bulb for that thing..."

~End~