(It's early in the morning, so early, the sun is just barely peeking over the Pacific Ocean, sending rays of red and gold light through the picture windows in the Pad. Only Peter, clad in his orange and blue bunny pajamas and reading the paper, is awake...and even he looks a bit groggy.)

Peter: (Sighs softly, to himself) Such depressing news these days...

(Emma joins him at that point, wearing navy blue shorts and a blue, red, and tan floral blouse. She goes to the stove and starts boiling water for tea.)

Emma: (Yawning a bit) Morning, Peter. Want some tea? I'm making myself some of the regular stuff.

Peter: (Nods and yawns himself) I'll have some of my green tea, please, Em.

(Emma is setting up two coffee cups with tea bags when the phone rings.)

Emma: (As Peter starts to get up) I'll get it, Pete. I'm closer. (Emma picks up the phone as Peter sits back down) Hello?

Rob: (We switch to Rob and George, who stand outside a phone booth, a terrified Lauren next to them) Hi, doll. How was your sleep?

Emma: (At the Pad - frowns) Doll? Mike? But Mike...(her eyes widen)...you!

Rob: (At the phone booth - over his shoulder to George) Smart chick, Boss. Wonderful vocabulary, too. (Into the receiver) Look, sweet cakes, my Boss thought you'd like to know we have something that belongs to you. (Hands the phone to George)

Emma: (At the pad - glares; Peter looks on, horrified) What?

Peter: (Eyes widen) Em, who is it? Is it...

(Emma nods her head.)

George: Oh, just someone I've had my eye on. Matter of fact, she's right here. *smirks at Rob*

Emma: (At the Pad - her eyes are wide now, too) She? You bastards, you didn't...(growls) Let me talk to her.

(Rob smirks back at his boss and takes firmer hold of Lauren's arm.)

George: Sure. *holds the phone to Lauren, to her* Not too much information, now.

Peter: Her?

Emma: (To Peter) The Purple Flower Gang somehow got hold of Lauren again. (To Lauren) Honey, are you ok? Where are you? Where's Micky?

Peter: (joins Emma next to the phone)Lauren, are you ok?

Lauren: *nervous; gulps* I...I'm okay. Well, we're at a phone booth... *glances at the two holding her, makes a face* They've got Mick, too.

Emma: (Gasps) Oh, dear god...(to Peter) Pete, they got Mick, too.

(We switch back to Lauren, who hears Emma mutter curses and Peter sob through the phone.)

Emma: (Quietly) Lauren, is there anything we can do?

Peter: (Crying) Don't worry, Lauren, we'll save you!

Lauren: *gulps again* I don't know...

Emma: (Swallows hard to keep from crying herself) What do they want? (Turns momentarily to Peter) Pete, go wake up Mike and Davy. This is an emergency. (He does so)

(Peter rushes into Davy's room, then upstairs and into Mike's. Both emerge, groggy and grumbling.)

Lauren: They want our silence and...

Emma: Lauren?

George: *takes the phone* That's enough. You still there, doll?

Emma: (Grits her teeth and composes herself as the others join her) Yeah, I'm still there. Where are you?

George: A phone booth. I thought your friend said that. *grins*

Mike: Man, what's this all about?

Davy: Petah said something about Lauren and purple flowers...

Emma: (To George) You know what I mean, asshole. We want them back. Both of them. Unharmed.

Mike: Both of them?

Davy: What's going on?

Peter: (Bawling) The Purple Flower Gang have Lauren and Micky! :((

Mike: What?!

George: Now, now. You should know the drill by now. We need you to do something for us first.

Mike: Em, give me the phone. (She hands him the receiver, her lip trembling) Ok, you sons-of-bitches, what do you want from us?

Emma: (Softly) They want us to...do something...

Davy: We ain't doin' none of their dirty work for them!

Peter: I don't want to do dirty work!

George: How flattering, thank you! Listen, there's a big jewelry shipment going to Louvere's downtown. We want you to nab that shipment for us.

Mike: And how do you plan on us doing that?

George: You can't figure that out yourself? *smirks at Rob*

Mike: You want us to go as you, so we'll be the ones who get caught.

George: You're smarter than you look. Exactly. You do this, and we give you the doll and Curly back.

Mike: (Closes his eyes) And all of us land in jail.

Davy: 'Ow do we know we can trust them?

Emma: Tell them not to hurt them, especially Lauren! (Peter continues to sob)

Mike: That's a good question, Dave. How do we know we can trust you, especially in regards to Micky and Lauren's safety.

George: I guess you'll have to take that risk, won't you?

Emma: And what am I going to do? I'll never fit in those damn suits!

Mike: What about the other girls? They won't pass for guys.

George: *sighs* I have to think of everything. *turns to Rob* Any ideas on what to do with the other two chicks since they won't pass for us? *grins*

Rob: We could keep the fat bitch at the hideout. Ain't she your gal's best pal? As for the rich bitch, she doesn't have to know if she ain't there.

Tom: (Grins) I could use a nice girl to keep me company, since 'al ain't around. ;)

(Emma blanches, steps back.)

George: *to the others* Alright.

Emma: Mike, no...

Mike: Don't worry, honey. I'll figure somethin' out. (Sighs) You promise not to hurt Micky or either of the girls?

Emma: No...I won't do it...

Mike: Em, it's for Lauren and Micky!

George: Of course, I promise. *grins*

Emma: (Steps back toward the refrigerator) I don't trust them!

Mike: (To Emma) Darlin', I don't trust them, either, but we don't seem to have much choice.

George: Do we have a deal, or what? Rob's trigger finger is gettin' itchy. *smirks*

Mike: (Takes a deep breath, then nods) We've got a deal.

Emma: (Screams) MIKE, NO!

Peter: Michael!

Davy: Mike, I don't think...

Mike: Where do you want us to meet you?

George: Good. *grins* I'll meet you at the Wharf Bar and Grill tonight, midnight.

Mike: (Nods) Yeah, we'll do that.

Rob: (To George) And tell him no cops. If we find out they've gone to the cops, the girl and Curlylocks are both dead.

Emma: (Slumps at the table and puts her head in her hand) No! I won't go!

Peter: (Joins her and starts rubbing her back) Em...

George: *nods* And I wouldn't consider tippin' off the cops. We hear sirens or see cops, and the doll and Curly are goners.

Mike: (Softly) Fine. Em's almost in hysterics, Pete's bawling, and I think Davy may go chew raw meat. You happy now?

George: Very. *pauses* Have a nice day. *hangs up & checks the change slot; frowns that it's empty*

(Rob holds Lauren, his hand over her mouth.)

Rob: Want me to kick the hell outta the phone booth for ya, boss?

George: Why not? Get some of that aggression out, before you ruin this deal. *grins*

Rob: (Hands Lauren off to George) Good. You keep her quiet. She tried to bite me. (Goes to the phone booth and starts kicking and punching it)

George: *smirks at Lauren* Now, you should know better than to try to bite Rob. You don't know where he's been.

Lauren: *glares, shaking her head* You're not gonna get away with this!

(Rob emerges from the phone booth, which is now missing all of its glass and its receiver, with a bag of coins.)

Rob: Got your change back, Boss. (Holds up the bag, smirking) And everyone else's. ;)

George: Now, don't you feel better? *takes the bag and looks inside* Nice! ;-)

Rob: Yeah, a little. What I really want to kick the hell out of is that smart-ass Texan double of mine.

George: Soon, Rob. You'll get the chance when we meet up to get the haul.

(Rob and George pull Lauren down the street to a non-descript rust-brown van parked in the big lot of a supermarket. Rob knocks on it, and Tom opens the back.)

Tom: (Makes a face) What took you blokes so long? I was thinkin' the coppahs caught up with ya again!

Rob: Oh, just had a little fun with the phone booth, Tommy. (Nods as he gets in - Micky sits on the seating along one wall, still bound, gagged, and obviously angry and frightened) How's Curlylocks?

Tom: (Grins and pinches Micky's cheek - he glares) Oh, 'e behaved like a good litt'l boy, didn't you, Curly?

Rob: Ok, who gets the honor of driving this time?

Tom: I did it last time.

Rob: And Boss will probably want to stay with his doll. (Sighs) Fine, I'll do it. (Goes around to the driver's side)

Rob: (Muttering, to himself) I'm startin' to wish Boss never met that doll...

Tom: (As Rob starts the vehicle) So, Boss, did you get a hold of them?

George: I sure did. *smirks* Scared the hell outta all of 'em, too!

Tom: So, are they comin'?

George: *nods* Tonight at midnight.

Tom: All of them? We don't exactly need the dames...

George: We're gonna keep doll's friend as added collateral. The rich doll shouldn't be involved.

Tom: The fat chick? But she's got a mouth on her...and she fights like a bloomin' demon!

(Micky tries to grin at the description and nods.)

George: But if she wants to keep her friends safe, she'll calm down. *glares at Micky*

(Micky glares right back.)

Rob: If she doesn't calm down, I'll make her.

Tom: What, with your winnin' ways?

Rob: No, with the back of my hand.

George: *sighs* Rob, would you knock it off?

Tom: Boss will handle the dames, Rob. You're too rough.

*Lauren rolls her eyes.*

Rob: What's the street we're stayin' on again, Boss?

Tom: Your brain goin' soft Rob? We're staying above the Wharf!

Rob: We've been in so many places recently, sometimes I forget where I am.

George: You'd forget your head if it wasn't attached!

(Micky starts making noises again as George sidles up to Lauren and starts caressing her gently and Rob grumbles and mutters about chicks and egos.)

George: *glances at Micky* Somethin' wrong, Curly? *smirks*

(Micky nods angrily and tries to kick George from across the van, but his legs can't quite reach.)

George: Aw, tough luck. You can't seem to reach all the way over here. *grins*

(Micky tries to stand, but Tom pushes him back down. He tightens the ropes around Micky's chest, pulling hard on the ribs area. Micky screams under the gag.)

Lauren: Hey, stop that! He didn't mean it!

Rob: (From the driver's seat) Could you guys quit rockin' the boat back there? I almost ran over a cop!

George: What's one less flatfoot?

Tom: He's a feisty buggar, ain't 'e? We'd bettah fix it so he can't try anythin' like that again. (Takes more rope from under the seat and tighly binds Micky's ankles)

George: Smart man, Tom.

*Lauren frowns, trying to move away from George.*

Tom: Aw, why you movin'? (Gently nudges Lauren back toward George as Micky starts shouting through his gag again) The Boss won't hurt you none. Give him a little chance.

George: Trust me, doll, if I was gonna do any harm to you, *grins* I would've already. ;-)

Tom: (Turns back to Micky as Rob turns onto the docks) And you, keep bloody quiet. They can 'ear you back in Malibu Beach! (Tightens the gag in Micky's mouth so his screams are reduced to the barest moans)

(George puts his arms around Lauren and runs his hand gently across her stomach as Rob approaches the Wharf.)

Lauren: Don't. *cringes*

Tom: He's interested in those kiddies of yours. Got this idea 'e might make a nice da.

(Micky's eyes widen in pure horror.)

Lauren: You've got to be kidding?!

(Micky shakes his head angrily and looks at Lauren, moaning softly.)

George: *smirks* Why would you question that?

(Rob turns into the Wharf's parking lot and stops the van.)

Lauren: *looks at Micky* Call it a gut feeling. *glares at George*

Rob: End of the line, folks. (Climbs out of the driver's seat and around back; lets the others out. He grins at the subdued Micky) Nice work with Curly there, Tom.

Tom: Why thank you, Rob. If 'e'd gotten to be any more of a problem, I would have thrown 'im out a window. (Sighs) But that would upset the doll, so I just settled for keepin' 'im quiet.

George: See how considerate he is? *smirks*

Tom: Boss don't want nothin' to upset 'is little mothah.

Rob: Let's get Curly inside. Give Boss a few minutes alone with his chick.

(Rob takes Micky's arms and Tom takes his legs, and they carry the moaning, thrashing drummer inside.)

Lauren: Why do you have such an interest in my kids? I haven't even had them yet?

George: (Rubs Lauren's stomach gently) Let's just say when they are born, they'll carry on a legacy for me. And so will their mother (lifts her chin) and my woman.

Lauren: Like hell they will! *swats his hand away* And stop touching me!

George: I can't stop! I'm drawn to you, doll! You drive me crazy! (Takes her and kisses her as hard as he can without hurting her)

*Tears are beginning to well in Lauren's eyes as she tries to push him away.*

George: Now, doll, don't be upset. You'll learn to love me.

Lauren: *sniffs* No, I won't!

George: And there's the other guys to help you have your babies...

Lauren: You're crazy!

George: Oh, but you will learn to love me, doll. You won't have anyone else. Just you and me and the kids and the guys...

Lauren: *eyes widen* What?

George: (Realizes he's said too much) Come on, sweetheart. Let's go inside and get you and the kiddies somethin' to eat. You've got to be starved by now. (Takes her inside...)

(There's a slow dissolve from early morning to midnight. Fog rolls in around the docks, and the lamp light and lights on in the Wharf are barely visable. Mike walks in the noisy bar, dressed in a suit. He's followed by Peter, Davy, and an angry and upset Emma, who continues to glare at Mike.)

Mike: I wonder where those guys are?

Peter: They didn't say where at the Wharf to meet them!

Davy: I wish they'd been more specific.

Emma: I really hate being used as a pawn, guys.

Mike: I know, darlin', but you know the plan.

Emma: Yeah, but still...

Peter: Hey, guys, the music stopped! (He goes to the piano as the tipsy pianist passes out) Anybody got any requests?

Davy: Fine time for a romp!

Peter: (Shakes his head) I thought I'd play (emphasis) "Hold On Girl."

Davy: Why you doin' that?

Peter: We'll tell Lauren and Micky that we're ok and we're here to save them!

Emma: (Sighs) If anything will bring those damn gangsters downstairs, do it! I'm nervous as hell.

Mike: I think I can beat you on that, Em. (Mike keeps fiddling with his tie. Davy fiddles with his blue-and-white beads)

(Peter starts to play. We see gangsters look up from their card games and drinks with interest. Mike has to smack a few away from Emma, who does a bit of smacking herself.)

*At a far table, George sits back, tipping his hat up to glance at the group. He smirks, and stands, making his way to the group.*

Mike: (Frowns) Micky?

George: Don't you wish? *smirks*

Davy: No, Mike. It's 'is bloomin' double. :p

(Mike glares at George, barely able to compose himself, as the music comes to an end.)

Peter: (Gets up from the piano) Where's Lauren and Micky?

George: *crosses his arms* They're quite safe, and will remain so as long as you cooperate.

Emma: (Steps up to George) And me?

(Mike glares as George smirks at Emma's considerable chest, not exactly covered in her not-quite-fitting floral blouse.)

George: The same goes for you. As long as your friends here do what they're told, everyone will remain safe and sound.

Mike: (Takes Emma's shoulder firmly) If you so much as lay a finger on any of them, asshole, especially her, I'll kill you. You know I will.

Davy: Mike, calm down! (Nods) Where do we meet that shipment?

Peter: Just don't hurt the girls or Micky!

George: I know that. I have to deal with Rob. *smirks again* The shipment comes in in two hours at Louvere's. The shipping dock is around the back of the building. There's just the driver. Knock him out, and everything is yours for the taking...and I do mean everything. *grins*

Davy: It's a jewelry shipment, ain't it? Louvere's is a fancy jewelry store in Malibu Beach. This is a jewel robbery!

Peter: (Gasps) Oh, god...

George: Such smart boys. *smirks*

Mike: Oooh, if I could get my hands on you... (Emma puts her hand on his chest)

Emma: Honey, don't let him get to you. (Glares) Bad enough he's getting on my nerves.

George: Uh uh uh. I wouldn't do that, my dear hothead.

Rob: (Comes downstairs and joins the group, glaring at Mike, who glares back) Boss is gonna go with you to make sure you do the shipment right, with no funny business. Tom and I will keep watch over the two chicks and Curly.

George: *nods* Don't want any of you gettin' any funny ideas.

Mike: (Looks at Davy and Peter, who nod quietly, and Emma, who tries hard to compose herself) Fine. We'll do what you say.

Rob: (Nods) Good, it's all settled, then. (Takes Emma hard by her arm) This little fat bitch will be comin' with me, then. (Mike starts angrily before Peter takes his arm) Don't worry, Double, I'll take good care of her.

Emma: (Shrieks) Mike! Let go... (struggles without thinking)

George: *grins, calls after them* Remember, be gentle, Rob! ;-)

Rob: Now, why go and make noise, doll? (Looks up at George) I am bein' gentle!

George: Of course, how silly of me.

Emma: You almost yanked my arm out of the socket, you trigger-happy psychopathic lunatic!

Rob: (Puts his hand over her mouth) God, you talk a mouthful, don't you, sweet cakes? (Mike lunges again, but Rob pulls his hand tighter over Emma's mouth and drags her out of the main restaurant.)

Mike: Em... (Peter once again holds him back)

Peter: Don't worry, Mike. We'll get her back.

George: *turns back to the others* And, now, gentlemen, we talk strategy.

Mike: (Mutters) We'd better, Peter. (Glares at George) Didn't you say something about strategy, asshole?

George: Yes, I did say something about strategy. We need a plan if we don't want our asses hauled off to jail before you can rescue your friends.

Mike: Yeah, I don't particularly want to end up back in there myself.

Davy: There's got to be a way to slip in real quiet-like.

Peter: Maybe we could wear cat suits and pretend to be cats meowing for milk?

George: *quirks an eyebrow* I'd expect Hal to say somethin' like that.

Peter: Sometimes I get bright ideas, too!

*George rolls his eyes.*

Mike: Yeah, you do, Peter. (To George) But Pete does have a point. We've gotta distract the guards and sailors. (Shakes his head at his friend) But we're not going to do it dressed as cats.

Peter: Aw, it sounds like fun!

George: Then how would you like to distract them?

Mike: Maybe one of us could pretend to be sick, or set a fire, or somethin'.

Davy: (Smirks) What, you thinkin' of droppin' matches again, Mike, seein' how well that worked at Madame Rantha's party?

(Mike glares at Davy.)

Peter: (Sighs) I wish Micky were here. He could blow something up.

Mike: We can blow things up!

George: This, I have to see. *smirks*

Davy: Me, too. I was in England at the time.

Peter: You blew up the piano instead of the fireplace when we were helping Baby Face Morales!

Mike: Ok, so I made a slight tactical error. (Turns to George) You wanna see me blow somethin' up? (Pulls out a bottle) I've got this stuff my friend made. It'll blow up something without causin' much damage.

George: *interest is picqued* Certainly looks interesting. This stuff really works?

Mike: Blew up a couple of barrels and knocked a guy off a roof and onto the pavement. Took them a full ten minutes to scrape the dude off the street.

Davy: (Makes a face at the memory) Oh, good grief, Lord...

Peter: Oh, the stuff Micky made out West!

George: How do you make the stuff? *grins*

Mike: Good question. You'll have to ask Micky. He's the chemical genius, not me.

George: So my double does have some smarts about him. ;-)

Mike: Yeah, when he's not bouncing all over eternity. (Crosses his arms) Who's gonna set up the stuff, and who's gonna get the shipment?

Peter: (Looks at Mike, then shakes his head) Not me! I'm not much good at blowing stuff up.

George: You have the stuff. Why don't you do the blowing up?

(Mike gives a faint nod to Peter.)

Mike: (Grins) You know what? I think I will.

George: *grins* I'll supervise.

Davy: (Jerks a finger) This one and me will figure out a way to get the shipment.

Peter: (Has been looking at something creeping around the room; he finally turns away and nods at Davy, who glares) Um, yeah, we'll get that shipment for you, sir!

(Mike elbows Peter, who shrugs.)

George: *doesn't notice anything* Good fellas. There is some gangster in you after all.

Mike: (Gives a quick look at the person creeping across the floor and up the stairs in the back, then puts his arm around George) Yeah, well, why don't we celebrate this outside? It's so nice and foggy. So...LA-ish.

George: My kind of town. *grins*

Peter: Yeah! It'll be easier to get the shipment in the fog!

Davy: (Nods quickly) They won't be able to see us!

(The figure continues creeping upstairs as Mike, Peter, and Davy lead George out of the Wharf. It tip-toes silently down a grimy hall with cracked, white-washed plaster that's falling in places. The tall, darkened figure places an ear on one door, hearing female voices within.)

Rob: (Frowns) That should keep you. (One female voice is muffled. The other is not.) You comfortable, little mother?

Lauren: *spats out* Fine.

(The other female voice raises in anger.)

Rob: Aren't you feisty little bitches? (Pause) I don't know what Boss sees in you. (Another pause and the sound of one female yelp and one female moan) The fat chick ain't at all bad, if you like them with blubber...

(Sound of something hard across shins and then a slap.)

Rob: Damn you, you little brat! You're gonna pay for that!

Lauren: Hey!

(There's another muffled yelp and the sound of muffled screeching that's finally subdued to a low moan.)

Rob: (Looks out a window) Damn you, Boss, why don't you give me the signal? (Pause, then happier) Little mother, you're not so feisty now. 'Fraid to end up like your plump friend here? (Low, sad moan)

*Lauren just glares.*

(The door where the figure is opens. Tom comes across. The figure spreads itself against the wall, unseen.)

Tom: (Enters the room) Rob, I'm tired of waitin'. We've gotta off him now.

*Lauren's eyes widen.*

Rob: (Looks out the window) I can see him and those three dimwits goin' across the street to the docks now. When they start to get the shipment, we kill him. (Strokes Lauren's chin) Don't be afraid, little mother. Boss wants to take good care of you, but not with Curly around.

*Lauren pulls away as best she can, glaring.*

(Another female moan, this time angry.)

Rob: Can I do it, Tom?

Tom: (Sighs in annoyance) Fine. You get too rough with the chicks, anyway.

(Series of low female moans.)

Tom: Now, now, you really must learn to control that tempah, Rob. You'll nevah win 'er that way.

Rob: Win her? I'm about ready to throw her out the window!

(Low, angry groan.)

*Lauren growls.*

Tom: We're not supposed to be 'urtin' the girls, remembah? Boss' orders!

(Curt moan.)

Rob: I'm gonna go do my little errand (growl) and then I'll do what I want with the fat chick. (He slams out the door again; the figure hides against the darkened wall. Rob slams into the room across the way. The figure follows him and listens.) Hi, there, Curly. How you feelin'?

(There's a low, sad groan.)

Rob: Aw, too bad. I'm here to put you out of your misery.

(The door is kicked open, and Valerie, dressed in a slinky black pantsuit and carrying a gun, storms in.)

Valerie: No you're not, asshole. Drop the gun.

(Rob holds the gun on Micky, who is tied tightly and uncomfortably to a narrow couch in the corner of the room. Most of the furniture is in splinters. Micky is still gagged so hard, the corners of his mouth are bleeding.)

Rob: (Points the gun at Micky) I'm still gonna kill him, rich bitch. You and that bitty gun can't stop me.

Valerie: What about me and the entire FBI? (Grins at Micky) They said not to get in touch with the police. They didn't say anything about the Federal Bureau of Investigation. My father is a close, personal friend of J. Edgar Hoover. ;)

Rob: I don't believe you.

Valerie: Believe this, m*****f*****. I know how to use this gun. I've been shooting at targets since I could pick up a gun. I don't like it, but I can do it. (Over Rob's shoulder) Don't worry, Micky. I'll get you, and then we'll get the girls together. (Points the gun) So, what'll it be, Rob, me or the entire FBI?

Rob: You're lying.

Valerie: Try me, asshole.

(Rob finally drops the gun as three men in plain suits run in. They take Rob and Valerie unties Micky.)

Valerie: Micky, are you ok?

Micky: *groans* Oh, just peachy.

Valerie: Peter went to me this afternoon and told me everything, and Dad called the FBI in. (Grins) You up to helpin' me save Emma and Lauren?

Micky: *wipes his mouth with the back of his hand* Definitely! After what these jerks have done to us, I'd go in hopping on one leg!

Valerie: (As the men lead a struggling Rob away) Come on! (She takes him across the way to the other door) Do you want to kick it in or should I? ;)

Micky: Be my guest. *grins*

Valerie: I've always wanted to do this! (Kicks the door in as more FBI come silently down the hall. Tom stands in the room, holding Lauren, who sits on a dingy, narrow bed. Emma is tied tightly to a splintered, ladder-backed chair. She, too, is gagged tightly, and there's a hand-shaped bruise forming on her right cheek.) Let go of her, you little bastard!

Micky: *grins, putting up his fists* C'mon, you little runt!

Tom: (Puts up his fists) I could take you wit' one arm be'ind me back, Skinny! You've got them bruised ribs, and you've been tied up for houahs!

Micky: Then go ahead and try it!

(Valerie and Lauren untie Emma as Tom jumps on Micky.)

Micky: *yelps* Okay, I stand corrected!

(The two wrestle. Micky finally manages to pin Tom to the ground, though he's breathing hard when he does.)

Valerie: Micky, are you ok?

Micky: *puffing* Ha! See that? *to Valerie* Fine. I need a bag to breathe into...

Emma: (Rubs her raw wrists) Thanks, guys. (Makes a face) Took you long enough.

Valerie: It was hard finding this place in the fog! (Nods at Lauren) Lauren, see if you can help get some wind back in him. (The FBI take Tom away as the three girls settle with Micky on the bed.)

Lauren: Sure! ;-)

Emma: (Grins) This dispels the notion once and for all that Peter is stupid. Getting Valerie to go to the FBI was his idea. ;) :D

Valerie: Skip the middleman. Most of the cops are busy with all the crap that's happening in LA, anyway.

Micky: *still puffing slightly* Always knew...Pete had great ideas. *smiles*

Emma: He just needed the right person to bring them out. (Grins at Valerie, who grins back)

Valerie: He's so much smarter than anyone gives him credit for...including him. He just lacks confidence.

Lauren: And you offer him a chance to gain that confidence. :-)

Valerie: (Her grin could match Peter's) You'd better believe it! He's such a sweet man, with so much potential. (Blushes) In many ways.

*Micky smirks.*

Emma: Micky, how are you feeling? Other than elated that you rescued Lauren again. ;)

Micky: *puts both arms around Lauren, who laughs* That obvious? *pauses, pulls away* Sore. Very sore.

Emma: Your ribs are still pretty tender, aren't they?

Micky: *nods* Jerks tied the ropes extra tight around them. *puffs* Could barely breathe.

Valerie: (frowns) Are you up for another rescue mission? (Grins) One that could possibly involve leather and another go-around with "Mission: Ridiculous?" ;)

Emma: I knew Micky would find a reason for Lauren to wear the cat suit! ;)

Micky: *brightens* Oh, God... yes! *beams*

Lauren: *laughs* Better while I can fit in it. ;-)

(Valerie, Micky, Lauren, and Emma creep down the docks. Valerie and Lauren both now wear leather cat suits. Emma and Micky just wear black shirts and jeans ala "Art For Monkee's Sake." Micky does the narration.)

Micky: Our yet again rearranged team has been assembled this time, not just to rescue the other members of our little team, but the one member who usually does this little narration bit. *grins* *still narrating* First, we have the Western Honey Girl. Don't let the name fool you. She's one tough lady. Hey, she saved my neck. Um, anyway, she's the unofficial leader of our group this time around, and for good reason. She's got in with the FBI!

Valerie: (Nods and winks) You said it! And I've got in with the Connecticut Counter-Spy, too. ;)

Micky: Next we have the New Jersey Jungle Girl. She's a feisty one with quick wit, and quicker fists if you make her mad enough. Don't mess with her friends! She'll spout vocabulary that'd make a sailor blush!

(Emma stumbles over a loose board and lets loose with said vocabulary.)

Valerie: (Blanches) Do I want to know where she learned that?

Micky: Then we have the babe who needs no introduction, but she's getting one anyway. *smirks, then shrugs at Lauren's glare* Also very feisty & rather stubborn at times *grins at her,* she's got the size advantage, with the ability to sneak into small areas easily. *smirks* She's also carrying our twins! ;-)

Lauren: *backhands Micky on the arm* Would you knock off the flattery? It won't get you anywhere until later when we're home! ;-)

Emma: (Grins through the tears forming over her stubbed toe) That's our proud papa Panther for you! ;)

Micky: *shrugs* Sorry, babe...er, New England Minx ;-) *grins sheepishly*

Micky: And last, but certainly not least...the Los Angeles Leopard...me! *grins* Although for some reason, Peoria likes to call me the Panther Man. *shrugs* Whatever floats their boat. Of course, the Texan likes to point out that I may be the weak link with my low resistance to night air *sneezes,* and I think he'd be right.

Emma: (Elbows Micky) We gotta get you something for that, Panther Man. (Looks around) Ok, which one is carrying the jewel shipment?

Micky: *points* I think Davy's got it, over there, near the truck.

Emma: (Nods) I heard Rob the Asshole and Tom mention earlier that they'd made some kind of plan where Davy would get the shipment while the guys blew something up as distraction. (Makes a face) They've been hangin' around you too much, Micky. ;)

Micky: Can I help it if I'm influential? ;-)

Emma: That's one of the scariest things I've ever heard. ;)

*Micky just grins.*

Valerie: (Frowns) I don't see the guys.

Emma: Or George either, for that matter. I only see a few dock workers and some FBI men.

Valerie: If that bastard's hurt Peter...

Lauren: I don't like this.

Emma: Let's look around. They've got to be here somewhere. (Growls) Oooh, if he's tried anything on Mike...

Micky: George is probably just all talk.

Lauren: Kinda like you, Mick? ;-)

Micky: Oh, ha ha. :-P

Emma: (Sighs) Some of these doubles hit a bit too close to home... (shakes her head)

Valerie: (Looks around) I'll bet George and his remaining thugs have them on the docks somewhere.

Emma: (Nods towards the docks and a series of bait and tackle shacks and offices) Come on, guys. (Puts a finger to her lips) But quietly. We don't want to get caught again!

Micky: Right! *nearly trips over something* Ow! *Lauren clamps a hand over his mouth*

Emma: (Frowns) What's that sound?

Valerie: (Looks up) It sounds like...a motor boat...

Lauren: That can't be good.

Emma: (points to a small crowd gathered in the fog) What's that?

Lauren: *squints* What's what? Man, what a time to not have my glasses...

Micky: *squints* Looks like a group of people. *grins at his obviousness*

Emma: Wouldn't matter in this fog, anyway. (Frowns) Hey, Valerie, you wouldn't have anything that can see through fog, would you?

Valerie: (Nods and pulls out a pair of dark glasses) Yeah, the TXL-2000. Can see through anything, including mud and lasers.

Emma: Let Micky play with them. He loves gadgets. ;)

Micky: Yeah! What else you got in that utility belt of yours? ;-)

Lauren: Oh, geez, he's going Batman on us. ;-)

Valerie: (Grins) I'll show you later. Right now, we find the guys. I have no intention of losing my boyfriend just as I've empowered him. ;)

Emma: And I'd like to keep my fiancee in one piece, thank you. ;)

Micky: *shrugs* To each their own. ;-)

Lauren: Valerie will help you put together your very own utility belt later, Mick. ;-)

Emma: Have fun, Panther Man!

Valerie: Can I trust you with these? (Hands him the glasses)

Micky: Of course you can! I'll be vewy vewy careful with them! ;-)

*Lauren slaps her forehead as Micky puts the glasses on.*

Valerie: That's not what I mean. Can I trust you to look for what you're supposed to look for, and not through...other things?

Emma: (Blushes) Oh, God, tell me they can't...

Micky: *is already looking at Lauren* Too late. *smirks widely*

Valerie: Ok, that was a bad idea.

Lauren: *blushing bright red* Mick!!!

Micky: *lifts the glasses; sheepish grin* Sorry, babe. ;-)

Valerie: (Moves Micky toward the crowd) That way, Panther Man. Check out the Minx's tail later. ;)

Micky: Aw! ;-) *looks towards the fog and the group*

(The girls, creeping along the sides of the shacks and offices, follow Micky towards the group. As they get closer, they can barely make out that the group are all large men who wear dockworker's outfits or suits. There's the sounds of muffled screaming and what sounds like Micky's voice, both odd and distorted in the fog.)

Valerie: What in the world?

Micky: I don't sound like that, do I?

Emma: No, you don't, but that isn't you...and it's being heard through fog, anyway.

Micky: Whew!

Valerie: (Low) It's your double.

Lauren: What the heck's going on?

(The crowd parts slightly. The girls can see a tall, thin figure messing around on a small boat, holding ropes. The screams grow fainter.)

Emma: Micky, can you get a little closer and maybe see something?

Micky: I'll try... maybe if I climbed up on something...

(The figure raises a familiar bottle to show the crowd.)

Valerie: (Points upward) On the roof of one of the shacks.

Emma: Just watch your ribs.

Micky: *nods* I'm on my way. *moves to one of the shacks and climbs up some stacked barrels*

Emma: Damn, that bottle's familiar...

Valerie: (Shakes her head) I've never seen it before.

Micky: *gulps* Um, ladies, I know that bottle!

Emma: You do?

Valerie: Enlighten us, then.

Micky: *nods, still looking* That's the bottle that held the stuff I made to blow things up! *looks down at the ladies* He's probably intendin' to use that stuff out there!

Valerie: On the guys...or that boat with the guys in it!

Micky: It'll get the same result if he's got the guys!

Emma: Oh, God...Mike...

Micky: *climbs back down from the roof* We've gotta get closer and stop him!

Emma: We can get lost in a crowd!

Micky: He'll never know we're comin'!

Emma: (Nods at Micky and Lauren) You two be careful among those thugs, though. Neither of you need to get hurt.

Micky: *shakes his head* I'll be fine. *looks at Lauren* But, babe...

Lauren: I know, I know. I can keep look out. :-)

(Lauren goes out to the edge of the fringe of buildings, watching out for FBI or more thugs. Micky, Valerie, and Emma carefully tip-toe out to the dock and stand in the back of the crowd, trying to make their way through.)

Valerie: (Peers between two men standing at the edge of the dock and gasps) Peter!

Emma: Honey Girl, do they have the Texan too?

Micky: How 'bout the Marauder?

Valerie: (Shakes her head) N... no... I didn't see the Texan... but they have the Maurauder and (softer) the Counter-Spy...

(George's voice can be heard over the crowd...as can muffled groans. Micky peers between thick shoulder blades. Davy and Peter are bound hand and foot to the small craft, their ties wound around their mouths. Another thug secures the pair as George finishes pouring the bottle around the craft.)

Micky: *mutters* Oh, crap...

Emma: (She's having a harder time seeing things, due to her weak eyes and height) Well, Mick? I can see George, and I know he's got to have the guys in there...

Micky: He's got Pete and Dave tied to the boat and is pouring the stuff all over the place! The thing's gonna be lit up like the Fourth of July!

Emma: But it only creates small explosions, remember?

Valerie: (Blanches) Enough to sink the craft...and drown them.

Micky: Not if you use a lot of it. Trust me, I know.

Thug: (Turns to them and puts a finger to his lips) Shh! You're gonna miss Boss George talkin'!

Micky: *mutters* Sorry.

George: That's the last of it. (Grins and pats Davy on the head; Davy growls) How would you like to join your namesake's locker, little man?

*Micky does his own bit of growling.*

George: (Gets on the dock) I'll set off the motor. (Grins to the crowd) Gentlemen, I've rigged the motor to go off the moment it runs out of gas, probably somewhere in the Pacific, where the only thing that will find their bodies are the creatures of the deep. You will notice it has an extra-large motor for such a small craft. After it runs out of gas, it'll sputter for a few moments, then (an evil note to his voice) the gunpowder will ignite, and they'll either go up with the ship, or the ship will go under with them. Either way (audible smirk) they'll be out of our hair.

Emma: (Hisses) Bastard!

Micky: *narrows his eyes, breathes out* Son of a bitch.

Valerie: Peter!

Micky: *hisses* We gotta do somethin' now!

Valerie: (She takes something off of her utility belt and throws it a little further down) Hey, guys, look! Money! Hundred dollar bills! (Almost all but two or three thugs take off for the thrown cash. George is one of them. He stands, smirking at the group.)

Emma: Get away from that boat!

Micky: *puts up his fists again* Or else!

George: (Sneers) You're beat up more than an old shoe, double, and God only knows what my boys have done to your Texan buddy by now.

Micky: So help me, if Mike's hurt in any way, you'll be hurtin' more than I am, if that's possible.

Emma: (Stands back) I wouldn't talk like that, (grins wickedly) Georgie!

Valerie: She's got wicked claws there!

George: (Glares at Emma) Don't call me that!

Micky: Whatsa matter, Georgie? Don't like it?

George: You...you... (he takes a swing at Micky, but Micky easily ducks out of the way)

Micky: C'mon, you can do better than that!

Emma: (Notes that the thugs are returning, grumbling over fake hundreds) Um, Valerie, I think your little ruse just wore off.

Valerie: (Sighs) Get the boys out of that ship of fools. I'll handle this crowd.

Emma: Alone?

Valerie: You forget, Jungle Girl (holds up her utility belt), I'm armed. (Winks) In many ways. (Saunters over to the men as Emma climbs into the boat and proceeds to free the boys)

*Micky continues to goade George, still taunting the gangster.*

Micky: *jumps away from another punch* Georgie, you surprise me! *grins at the gangster's frustration*

George: Why don't you stand still or shut up and let me hit you! *gets an elbow in the jaw*

Micky: Now, why'd I wanna do either of those? *grins*

(Valerie goes amid the men, grinning at their gawking over her extra-tight bodysuit. When two of them get close enough, she knees them in the groin.)

George: *finally lands a punch to Micky's rubs, doubling the drummer over* Too much talk, Curly!

Davy: (Groans as Emma gets the gag off) Thanks, Em. Damn gangstahs got the drop on us aftah we'd helped them with their shipment. They 'eld Petah and me down. Don't know wot 'appened to Mike.

Peter: (Gasps as Emma takes off his) Oh, thank goodness, you're all here! Is Valerie here? Did she bring the FBI like we planned?

Emma: Yes, she did. They got Lauren, me, and Micky back, and they should be on their way shortly.

(The three climb out of the boat, the boys a tad shakily.)

(Valerie pulls another item from her utility belt. One of the men come up to her and she shoots a gun-like object, but instead of bullets, a glove flies out on a spring and knocks the man cold. ;) )

Micky: *grabs George and pulls him up by the lapels; stares him down* Not so tough, now, are you, George?

Davy: (Grins) Good work, Micky! I guess you're ok now. ;)

Peter: If he gets anymore ok, he'll squeeze George until his eyes fall out! :D

Micky: *grins* Thanks, guys! (Grins wickedly) That ain't a bad idea, Peter!

Davy: (Elbows Peter) You 'ad to open your mouth, mate! You're givin' 'im ideas! ;)

Peter: (Blushes) Sorry!

Micky: *shakes his head* No, I wouldn't do that. That's something Georgie, here, would do, or have someone else do for him.

Peter: (Sees Valerie surrounded by thugs - one takes her by her waist) Valerie!

Valerie: (But the man pulls away, yelping and sucking his fingers - Valerie reveals a mousetrap strapped to her waist, which she throws away) I always come prepared for every situation, including groping men. (Runs over to him) Oh, Peter! Thank God! (hugs him tight)

Emma: (Yells at George after chuckling at Peter and Valerie) Where's Mike, you asshole?

Davy: You'd bettah talk, mate. (Points at Micky and Emma) She can get in a terrible tempah sometimes, and he'll lose it, then regain it fastah than you can say "thrown in the clink."

*Micky nods, grinning.*

George: How should I know?

Emma: Don't play dumb. The FBI will be here any minute.

Micky: You don't think we'll fall for that, do you? No one does when I try it.

George: He's your leader, ain't he? Your "boss," so to speak.

Micky: Yeah, what of it?

Emma: And the man I'm going to marry (mutters) one of these days.

George: Seems he ain't done such a good leadin' job. I was gonna let Rob eat him alive, but...

Micky: What are you babblin' about?

George: (Grins) I've got something imaginative lined up for him, too. Rob was supposed to do it, but he was late, so I sent some of my less smart boys. (Smirks) Try the fishing boats. Nice place for Texan bait, I've heard. ;) >:)

Emma: (Gasps) I know fishing boats! My stepfather's worked on them for 30 years! (Screams) WHERE ON THAT BOAT IS HE?

George: Then you know what's gonna happen to him.

Davy: (Joins Micky in taking his lapel) Why don't you tell us? Sounds so much bettah comin' outta your mouth.

George: Better yet (makes a face) if you quit squeezin' the life out of me, I can show you.

Davy: This is totally on the level, right?

Valerie: Better be...

George: Can't be anything else, with you two trying to turn my windpipe into a pretzel...

Emma: Micky, Davy, let him go.

Valerie: Emma...

Emma: He knows where Mike is! We've got to find him! (Muffled sound of feet in the distance as the fog burns away and men in suits and Lauren run to join them) And we've got company, anyway.

Davy: I don't like it. What about you, Mick?

Micky: *shakes his head* I don't like it, either.

Valerie: The FBI are coming. They'll see everything.

Micky: *grumbles* I still don't like it.

George: I don't like that I'm being crushed like a soda pop can at the moment, either, but that's the breaks.

Emma: I don't care! I want him back!

(She starts running toward the commercial fishing fleet as a group of men in nondescript suits run up to them with Lauren. They have all of the thugs on the dock, plus Tom and Rob in custody. Rob looks like he's read to spit rusty iron nails.)

Detective 1: Good work, kids. We've rounded up almost all of them but a few flunkies and the ringleader. (Grins at Peter and Valerie) We offered Hal coffee and a sandwich under the lights, just like you suggested, and he revealed everything, including his boss's interest in Mrs. Dolenz, the counterfeiting scheme, and the possibility of them robbing the Louvere shipment.

Peter: (City-lighting grin) Worked with me when I was in jail! ;)

Emma: (Points at George) He's still got one of our friends. (She's halfway to the boats) I'm going to get him back, alone if I have to!

Davy: Don't you start that, luv!

Micky: *growls* And I ain't lettin' go until we get him back!

George: (Glares at Micky angrily) He's tied up on one of the cranes on the fishing boat "Linda Ann." They have an unusual species of fish aboard that freighter.

Micky: How unusual?

Detective 2: (Frowns) The records from that one states that it comes from South America. Brings in exotic fish for delicacies in certain parts of North America and for food for pets and plants.

Emma: No! Mike! (She runs the rest of the way to the boat)

Detective: Miss! Come back!

Lauren: *waves it off* You're better off letting her go. *sighs*

Detective: (Takes George firmly by the arm) You and your boys are going to lead us to their friend, and there'll be no trouble about it.

Detecitive 2: You're in enough trouble as it is without adding first-degree murder!

(The detective leads several of his men, the remaining kids, and the trio of defeated gangsters to the large, grimy fishing boat "Linda Ann." They board the large ship, looking around. It's filled with nets, traps, fish gils, cranes, ropes, and other gewgaws of the fishing industry. There's a large cabin area towards the front.)

Detective: (Gasps and points upwards) My God! Is that...

(A net hangs from a crane that's slowing dropping over a square cut in the middle of the deck. Something long and thin wriggles in the net. A large man sits at the crane, fighting with Emma, who squawks at the top of her lungs.)

George: (Sneers at Micky) There's your "leader." Poor thing, about to become food for undersized horror movie rejects.

Emma: No...ow!

(The man has her arm. Lauren and Micky run to her at the same time as several FBI agents take hold of the remaining thugs. The net above wriggles fiercely, growling like a wild animal.)

Micky: *sneers at the man* Why don't you pick on someone your own size?

Thug: (Frowns) Boss? You wanna lower the kid to the pir...pir-an-ahs yourself?

Emma: (Shrieks) PIRANAHS!?

Micky: *picks up on the goon's mistake* Yeah, I do!

Thug: (Shrugs) Ok. Just tell her (points at Emma) not to yell in my ear! She's noisier than a foghorn in San Francisco! (Rubs his finger in his ear)

Micky: Okay, okay. *looks at the controls, mutters* Now how do you work this thing?

Emma: (Looks up at the squirming figure) Push buttons and hope your imagination does the rest? :o

Micky: Right! *closes his eyes & starts pushing buttons and moving levers*

*The crane begins to move away from the square to over the deck itself.*

(Shakily, but steadily, the crane finally lowers onto the deck next to the square. Several detectives start getting the squirming, net-bound figure off the crane as Emma, Micky, and Lauren hurry out of the crane and join Peter, Valerie, and Davy on the deck. It's Mike, all right. Fishing net has been wound hard around his body so he can't do anything but wiggle. Net has also been stuffed in his mouth.)

Emma: (Throws her arms around the bound figure) Oh, Mike, it's you! Thank goodness!

Micky: Em, let the poor guy get untied first!

(The kids set about unwinding the net from Mike's long and lanky body. He stretches out on the deck, Emma next to him, holding his hands.)

Davy: Mike, man, what happened? One minute, I saw you, and the next...

Mike: I tried to get away... but I ran straight into a bunch of Purple Flower goons. George must have already arranged the boat and feeding me to those nasty little suckers, and probably the boat that would have killed you guys, too. (Nods) I could see what was happening out there from the crane.

George: (Glares at Rob) How could you let that little rich bitch get the drop on you like that?

Rob: Damn it, George, she brought in the whole FBI! What was I supposed to do?

Tom: Oh, come on, you two...

Detective 1: Ok, fellas, we can argue over it all you want in a nice, cozy branch of the FBI in Los Angelas.

George: (Hisses at Micky) We would have gotten away with it if it wasn't for those damn kids who look like us!

Mike: Hey, pal, we never wanted this! *sticks his tongue out at George.*

Detective 1: (He and two more detectives leads the trio away) Ok, guys, tell it to our boys at the office. Your big blond friend is already happily yacking away, munching sandwiches and telling us about every single thing you ever did, going back to infancy. You might try following his example. (Walks off with them, George and Rob still yelling at each other all the way)

Lauren: *grins* Couldn't happen to a nicer bunch of guys. *rolls her eyes*

Mike: Serves the assholes right.

Detective: We'll need you kids to come down to the office in the morning, but for now, you all look like you could use a night's rest. If there's anything we can do for you kids...

Micky: *groans* No kiddin'. That adrenalin rush has worn off.

Valerie: Keep those jerks in jail this time.

Lauren: And throw away the key.

Detective: Shouldn't have any problem making their crimes stick this time, thanks to many witnesses and the testimonies of all of you. (Grins) You kids are real crime-solvers. You ought to consider becoming the Justice League of Malibu Beach or something. (Shrugs) My kid reads comic books.

Lauren: *jerks her thumb* Micky reads comic books. ;-)

Mike: Our kids read comics too. ;)

*Micky just grins.*

Peter: (Blushes) Well, when we get near a phone booth, we can be crimesolvers, too...

(Davy puts a hand over Peter's mouth.)

Mike: (Shakes his head) Come on, guys. Let's just go home. I think I've had more than enough of this little adventure.)

Emma: If I ever see another gangster again, it'll be too soon!

Davy: Which means lay off the Cagney impressions for a while, Mick. ;)

Micky: Let me out of my own imagination!

Mike: I think it's high time for these "imaginary" adventures to come to an end. From here on in, we stick to playin' gigs in Malibu Beach, gettin' married, and bein' a family.

Peter: But they've been fun, sometimes!

Davy: They've been downright horrifying.

Emma: Our little "adventures" did do one good thing, Mike. (She puts her arm around him as he gets to his feet) They made us a family. We're a true team now.

Peter: We know we can lick anything when we're together!

Micky: *grins* Damn right! ;-)

Emma: Because, in the final analysis (hugs Mike) love is power. ;)

Mike: (Grins) Ain't that the truth? (Hugs Emma back) Come on, honey. Let's go home. We have that gig comin' up, and summer will be over soon, too. We'll have holidays to play for.

Peter: And we've all got to get jobs!

Davy: (Eyes Emma and Mike) And plan for a weddin'.

Valerie: (Looks at Micky and Lauren, who hold each other) And get ready for the arrival of the first little Monkees!

*Both Micky and Lauren grin.*

Mike: (Puts up his hand) Look, let's make a pact. I don't mind us usin' this "imagination" power for little stuff or silly fantasies, but no more lettin' it run away so much that it almost gets us killed, ok? From now on, we live in real life, not in our minds.

Micky: *nods* It's much safer that way. ;-)

Emma: (Sighs) That doesn't mean that power isn't there, Mike.

Mike: I know that, Em, and I know we can't ignore it. I'm just saying these little fantasy trips of ours have gotten us beaten, tortured, raped, and almost killed on several occasions. We can't keep doin' this. (Indicates Lauren and Micky) Not with little Monkees comin'.

Lauren: He does have a point.

Emma: (Sighs) Ok, no more long trips. From now on, we use our "Imagination" power only in emergencies.

Valerie: (As they walk off the no-longer-foggy boat and down the docks, which are swarming with FBI men and captured thugs) You know, guys, I've been meaning to ask you something.

Peter: Yeah?

Valerie: Where did this "Power of the Imagination" come from?

Emma: (Sighs and shakes her head) Like I told you in Peter's story, Val, we're not quite sure ourselves.

Lauren: It just sorta...happened.

Davy: It's not quite magic, but it's not quite anything else, either.

Micky: It isn't even comparable to Magic Monkee Dust. ;-)

(Emma and Lauren, who get the reference, giggle.)

Mike: Well, whatever it is, from now on, we only use it in extreme emergencies. No more jumpin' all over creation, time, space, and anything else our warped minds can conjure up.

Emma: (Yawns) I think it's time we got home. We can discuss this better in the morning.

Peter: But it is morning!

Mike: Later in the morning!

Lauren: Yeah, I think Mick's about ready to fall over. *Micky yawns, then sticks his tongue out*

Davy: (Goes to Micky's side) Now, we wouldn't want 'im to do that! 'E might start snorin' right 'ere and now!

Micky: *glares at Davy* Hey, that isn't fair. :-P

Peter: Aw, leave him alone, guys! He's a hero! He saved us and Mike!

Micky: *lopsided grin* He's also the one who got beaten to a pulp in his own imagination!

Davy: (Nods) Right. Even heroes deserve a day off. (Grins and puts his arm around Micky as Lauren puts her arm around his other side)

Micky: *grins tiredly* Thank you, Dave.

(Emma and Mike lean on each other, hand in hand.)

Mike: (With a gentle smile) Let's just go home, guys. (And the camera follows the group as they walk off the docks... but what they don't notice is a large shadow watching from the offices rather amusedly...)