*We open at the radio station, with the final strains of a song. Jack is still alone.*

Jack: And that was "When I Grow Up To Be A Man" by the Beach Boys. Right now, Jack's the only grown-up left in here. The others went out on grown-up pursuits.

*Micky and Lauren come back in as Jack reads a promo. Micky looks a bit happier, and so does Lauren, although she also still seems a bit annoyed.*

Jack: (Raises his eyebrows at the two and grabs a record) And we'll be back on the air after this special announcement from Robin Jewelers. (Puts on a record, flips the switch off, and turns to Micky and Lauren) Feeling better?

Micky: *nods* Yeah. *turns to Lauren* Babe?

Lauren: *slight smirk* How could I say no? *sticks her tongue out at him* But I'm still annoyed.

Micky: See? ;)

Jack: Ok, ok, you two. Someone needs to get an update on the weather, and someone needs to grab the next hour's stack of records.

*Micky and Lauren jump up at the same time and collide with each other. Micky falls onto his rear on the floor, while Lauren remains standing. Lauren chuckles, while Micky laughs a little too hard.*

Jack: One at a time, guys. Don't kill each other before Mother Nature's had the chance to.

Micky: *still laughing* I'll check the weather! *heads for the break room*

Lauren: *shaking her head; grabs some records* Jack, I know this'll seem like an odd question, coming from me, but does Micky seem a little goofier than usual?

Jack: He's scared, Lauren. He doesn't handle indoors well.

Lauren: I know that, but still...I just know there's something else wrong or bothering him. It feels like he's almost hiding something from me.

Jack: The weather's getting to him.

Lauren: I've seen him act weird with weather. Granted, it was mixed with our children being born, he ended up taking it out on Dave, but even that wasn't this bad. I just can't put my finger on it.

Jack: He doesn't have Dave around to take it out on. If the weather wasn't so crazy, I'd be tempted to call him over so they can let each other have it.

Lauren: That's the other thing. They've actually been getting along better lately.

Jack: That would explain why Mick is still alive. I guess they're finally growing up.

Lauren: *her back is to the door; Micky enters as she speaks* Maybe. I still think he's hiding something from me.

Micky: *closes the door; a bit nervous* Uh, who's hiding what from you, babe?

Jack: Hey, Mick. How's the monsoon coming?

Micky: *grins at Jack's interruption* It is NOT good out there. The water's up to the first step already!

*Lauren folds her arms and sighs at the interruption. *

Lauren: *looks between Micky and Jack* You two are hiding something.

Micky: *voice goes up an octave* Us!?

(Jack just leans back on the table and shrugs.)

Lauren: *points at Jack* Don't you look all innocent, Jack. Mick gets the same look when he's hiding something. *motions to Micky* See!?

*Micky's eyes are as wide as saucers. He shakes his head, hoping Jack won’t say anything about it.*

Jack: I had nothing to do with this.

Lauren: Hm. You do know what's going on, though. *turns as Micky, starts looking everywhere but at her* You... *stands*

*Micky's still looks everywhere else.*

Lauren: *completely annoyed now* Mick! *grabs a hold of his chin with one hand to hold his head still; she stares into his eyes for a few moments* I thought I notice something wrong with your eyes when we were... *pauses, her face flushing a bit* Is it getting hot in here?

*Micky grins innocently.*

Jack: Mick, just tell her.

Lauren: Tell me what, Micky?

*Micky gulps. He's starting to shake a bit.*

Lauren: I'm asking only once more, George Michael Dolenz! What's going ON?!

Jack: Mick, you might want to listen to the lady.

Micky: *frowning; in one breath* After-the-session-last-night, -all-the-guys-at-the-studio-were-talking-and-some-of-them-had-some-stuff-to-try. -I-don't-know-what-it-was, -but-I-tried-it-and-it-made-me-sick-earlier-and-I-still-don't-feel-too-good. -I'm-sorry-babe!

Jack: Try English, Mick. It works. And separate your words.

Lauren: *she waves off Jack; her eyes widen, but she doesn't look as mad* Micky...

Micky: *sits down; so does Lauren* I don't know what it was. I couldn't pronounce it, even if I could remember the name. It didn’t seem to do anything, until I started freaking out about being stuck in here. *ducks his head* Lauren, I'm so sorry.

Lauren: Well, that would definitely explain why you've been acting the way you have. *rubs his back* Micky... *glances at Jack; he looks away, whistling* you could've told me. I wouldn't have gotten so pissed off earlier. *sighs* Do you still feel sick?

Micky: A little.

Lauren: That's why you two were gone so long earlier, huh?

*Micky nods. He leans over further until his head is in Lauren's lap. Her face flushes a bit as Jack grins.*

Lauren: Just say somethiing, Jack. I know you want to.

Jack: Not much to say. He said it all.

Lauren: At least you know when to not take a dig at someone.

Jack: He's suffering enough as it is. Whatever he took is really doing a number on him.

Lauren: Yeah. *looks down, running her fingers through Micky's curls; he snores lightly* He fell asleep...*pauses* ...And he's putting my leg to sleep.

Jack: Let me help you. We could put him in the break room. I don't think we'll be able to explain his snoring to our listeners.

Lauren: Kinda doubt it. *nods, a slight smile* Thanks, Jack.

Jack: Ehh, you're welcome. I'm glad to have Mick back, and it's great having you on. We need more women around here.

Lauren: I really appreciate that. Mick will too, when he's conscious. Once we haul Mick out, I'll take over again.

Jack: No problem. Come on, let's get sleeping ugly out of here, before the commercial ends and the three homes in the Southern California area that still have power are treated to the Micky Snore Symphony in A-flat.

*Lauren laughs, as Jack helps lift Micky off of her and we fade out of the radio station.*

(...And fade in on the music studio in LA, where Mike is now working on "Some Of Shelly's Blues." He’s quite alone.)

*It's several moments before the studio door opens and Peter rushes in, looking very worried.*

Peter: Michael!

Mike: Yeah, Pete? (Looks up, but doesn't put the guitar down)

Peter: *stops right next to Mike; shakes his shoulder* The rain! It's getting really bad out there, Michael! I couldn't see the street when I looked out!

Mike: You're kidding?

Peter: Do I LOOK like I'm kidding?!

Mike: Man... (He puts down his guitar and heads outside as "The Door Into Summer" begins. It is, indeed, still pouring, and the water is up to the sidewalk and rising.)

*Peter flails his arms, motioning to the rising water. He makes swimming motions, then shrugs. They can't swim home!*

(Mike ignores him and storms down the street, trying to find the garage where he parked his car.)

*Peter splashes the water as he runs after Mike, both of them getting soaked in the process.*

(Mike finally trips over something and lands face down in water that half-covers him.)

*Peter comes to an abrupt stop, spraying more water over Mike. Peter helps him up and brushes him off, not that it does much good.*

(Mike tries to pull away, and they BOTH end up in the water again.)

*Peter splashes around like a fish flopping in very little water. Finally, he sits up and gives a weary smile.*

(Mike sits up and just looks weary. He starts for the garage again...only to see there's already water going into the garage.)

*Peter catches up again, frowning. He shakes his head. There's no way the car could get through all the water, anyway!*

(Mike just groans and stomps back to the building...if he can FIND it in all the rain...)

*Peter follows, shaking his head.*

(Mike kicks up water with every step, grumbling. He finally just kicks for the hell of it.)

*Peter moves around in front of Mike, doing a bit of a "Singing in the Rain" step.*

(Mike joins him, moving in time to the music as Peter grabs a lamppost...and slips right back into the water, forgetting said lamppost was wet and slippery and Gene Kelly he is not.)

(Mike's grinning now. He helps Peter to his feet...then splashes him as hard as he can.)

*Peter laughs. He bends down, cups some water in his hands and splashes it at Mike.*

(Mike splashes back, and soon the screen is filled with nothing but splashing and laughter.)

*We see someone hold a rag to the camera to wipe off the lense as the song winds down.*

Mike: (Still laughing) Um, maybe we'd better get back inside. Bein' wet is fun and all, but I don't wanna be drippin' all over the controls. I don't think Em wants a fried husband comin' home.

Peter: *nods* Good point. ;)

(The two head back in. Cut back to the control room as the lights flicker. Both men settle on the floor, shivering. Mike strips off his wet jean jacket and slings it on the back of a chair.)

Mike: I wonder if they have blankets or somethin' in the lounge area. We're gonna need coffee, too, and we need to get a hold of Em and Val and tell them we won't be home tonight, and we're going to have to somehow scrounge something up for dinner.

Peter: I'm sure there's something n the lounge. *grins* We could always raid Micky's food stash, if we need to. He'd understand.

Mike: You know where he keeps it? I haven't been able to figure it out yet.

Peter: *nods* I figured it out about two weeks ago. It's one of the cabinets in the instruments closet.

Mike: But that closet is huge!

Peter: He thought I wasn’t looking, but I know I saw him grab a Twinkie out of one particular closet.

Mike: If that closet's full, it'll feed us for a week with enough left that Mick doesn't figure out we've been in there.

(Mike leans back against a table and picks up Black Beauty again, just randomly strumming something that sounds like "Love Is Only Sleeping.")

Mike: Peter, do you wanna work on...

Peter: No, Michael, I don't want to work on anything right now. I'd really rather just relax. I have a feeling we'll be here a while. We'll finish the album later. Don't worry about it.

Mike: But...

Peter: We've done plenty of work on the album today. Lets just sit back and relax for a while. Besides, we don't want to drip all over the instruments and papers.

Mike: (Sighs) I know, but I'm...worried. Really worried. (Looks at Peter) Aren't you worried? The last two albums didn't make half of what the first two did, and the last special didn't do THAT great in the ratings.

Peter: I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried, but working incessantly day and night on the album won't be good for it. We'll burn out.

Mike: (Strums Black Beauty) How 'bout I just sorta jam on her? It helps me think.

Peter: *smiles* That's fine. Go right ahead.

Mike: (Strums tunelessly for a few moments as Peter settles back; then) Pete, what do you an' Stephan Stills and all those other guys DO when you're in the studio? I know it ain't work on "Lady's Baby," or it would be done already.

Peter: We work on lots of different songs. We chat and just relax.

Mike: Don't you wanna get it done soon? You do want it on the album, right? I mean, I've heard it a couple of times. It ain't a bad song, but it won't get out if you don't get it out there.

Peter: *sighs* I'd love to get it on the album...but it just feels like there's something missing from it. I can't put my finger on it.

Mike: You need to be more organized with it.

Peter: I don't think it's organization. I don't know what it needs.

Mike: What you need is fewer parties and more actual workin' on the song. Someone tougher to help you whip it into shape.

Peter: Whereas you work day and night on your songs. (Sighs) Michael, I don't want my songs "whipped into shape." I just want them to be the way I want them. I just don't know yet exactly how I want that particular one.

Mike: I work on my songs 'cause I want them to be GOOD.

Peter: *shakes his head* You work on them TOO much. They're beyond whipped, they're... *slight smirk* smashed to pieces.

Mike: I want them to be right. You know, to sell. I don't want people thinkin' we're some kiddie Bay City Rollers act.

Peter: And we aren't, Michael. I want my songs to be right, too. I just go about it differently.

Mike: Pete, I've been hearin' some stuff, 'bout you and Stephan Stills n' them. I know you've been runnin' up to Laurel Canyon a lot when you ain't here or with Val and Jordan.

Peter: That's when we work on their songs and where we go to relax.

Mike: How relaxed are we talkin'? You know all the shit they do up there.

Peter: *blushes a bit* Very relaxed. And, yes, I do know all they do up there. I do, too.

Mike: Does Val know?

Peter: No, I haven't told her. She does know that's where we go to work on their music, though.

Mike: Pete, it's your life, and their your buddies. All I'm gonna tell you is be careful. People have died doin' that shit, and half of it's probably illegal. Trust me, jail is the LAST place you want to find yourself.

Peter: *nods* I know that. Just sometimes, it's really needed.

Mike: Who else do you drag along to these things?

Peter: I don't drag anyone, Michael. Micky went last night.

Mike: Mick? I know he likes to have a good time, but your crowd seems a bit out of his league.

Peter: *frowns a bit* I didn't ask why he wanted to go. Though... *pauses, reconsidering* we wouldn't happen to have a radio around here, would we? He's supposed to have been on air tonight. He might still be on.

Mike: There might be a transistor radio around here somewhere. (Goes out of the room and comes back in with a very small metal and plastic box) Found this in the lounge. Someone must have left it.

(Mike flips a switch and gets a burst of static. He turns the dial this way and that before we finally hear familiar voices between the white noise.)

Lauren: ...And thanks for the note on the weather, Jack. Well, despite the fact that it's still raining buckets outside. How about we put on something that might help bring out the sun? Next up, the Beatles with "Here Comes The Sun." *the song begins*

Peter: *frowns* That's obviously Lauren. She mentioned Jack. They must be stuck at the station.

Mike: I'm assumin' Mick's there somewhere too, god help them.

Peter: *nods* Especially after last night.

Mike: (Raises an eyebrow) Last night?

Peter: At the party. The guys were trying something new. I don't know how many times they told Micky the name of it. *laughs a bit* It was funny watching him try to repeat it.

Mike: Repeat WHAT?

Peter: *thinks a moment* The name of the drug. I don't remember what it was now. He couldn't even say it before he tried it. *frowns, finally realizing he's said waaay too much*

Mike: You gave Micky, a guy who is more hyperactive than your average six year old on a good day, a drug whose name you can't even REMEMBER?

Peter: It never really crossed my mind. He was fine afterwards. I never thought anything of it.

Mike: Explain that to Lauren when the rains leave.

Peter: *eyes widen* ...Do I have to?

Mike: I wouldn't be surprised if she already has some idea there's somethin' wrong with Micky. She ain't stupid, Pete, and she's better than any torturer at getting information outta Mick.

Peter: That's true. I will make sure I apologize.

Mike: You're not entirely at fault here, ol' buddy. Mick didn't have to tag along. Lauren will probably be more mad at him than you.

Peter: *smiles a little* You don't suppose that might be why she's on air now and not him?

Mike: It could be. He probably passed out.

Peter: *frowns* Oh dear...

Mike: I doubt it's anything serious. They just don't want his snorin' to annoy listners.

Peter: I hope so. *laughs a little*

Mike: (Puts the guitar aside) Look, if we're stuck here for the night, maybe we'd better tell the others. You contact Val and I'll see if I can get a hold of Em. I don't imagine they went out clubbin' in this weather.

Peter: *nods* Good idea. *opens his communicator* Val? Valerie, are you there?

Valerie: (Cut to her and the oddly quiet girls driving through the very wet Malibu Beach at a snail's pace) I'm here, Peter, but I'm a little busy right now.

Peter: Where are you?

Valerie: Chrissy, Sarah, and I are in downtown Malibu Beach, near the Hotel Caprice, and the water is up to the hotel's front entrance. We're trying to at least get to the Montgomery House, but I don't think we're going to make it. Are you still at the studio?

Peter: Yes, we are. Please, be careful out there!

Valerie: I'm doing the best I can. Are you and Mike all right?

Peter: We're fine, if a little damp. We ended up outside for a little while. It was kind of fun, playing in the rain.

Valerie: You got Mike to play in the rain? How hard did you have to smack him with a fish to get him to do that?

Peter: Let’s just say it was part of the moment. (Frowns) Valerie, be careful out there! The water outside the studio is up past the sidewalk!

Valerie: I'll be careful, Peter. I'll call for help if anything happens, ok?

Peter: Okay. I love you.

Valerie: I love you too, honey. Don't let Mike bully you TOO much.

Peter: *chuckles* I won't.

(Peter turns off his communicator; cut to Valerie as she turns hers off. Sarah and Chrissy are a little worried.)

Sarah: I'm scared, Val! The water is really high! Let's turn back. We can go to my house or Chrissy's house.

Valerie: We can't turn back. I don't think I could turn AROUND in this!

Chrissy: We have to do something, sis! I'm scared, too!

Valerie: I'm going to see if I can get on a side street. Maybe Millie and Larry or Mrs. Purdy would... (But even as Valerie says this, the car shudders and just...stops.) Oh no.

Chrissy: Tell me you stopped on purpose.

Valerie: No, I didn't. We're in the middle of the street. (She pushes at the gas again - the car sputters and tries to turn over, but finally dies again)

Chrissy: We're stuck, aren't we?

Valerie: I can't lie, Chrissy. Unless I can get the car started...yeah, we're stuck. (She turns the key in the ignition and shoves at the gas again; nothing)

Sarah: Oh man, we're gonna drown!

Chrissy: No, we won't! Right, sis?

Valerie: Sarah, calm down! Chrissy, we won't drown. We...we'll think of something. (She pushes on the gas again) I wish I had a transistor radio in here. We need storm updates.

Chrissy: Yeah! I hope it's ending soon.

Valerie: Me too. (She keeps pushing on the gas that refuses to turn over as we fade out)

*We fade back into the radio station. Jack sits at the microphone as the door opens, and Lauren and Micky enter. Lauren has an arm around Micky's waist. He looks a bit better than he has for most of this story so far.*

Jack: (Grins) And we'll go into Elton John's "Friends" as I go make sure some friends of mine are doin' all right. (He puts on the album, then goes over to Micky and Lauren) You guys feeling better?

Lauren: Mick?

Micky: *nods* Finally, yeah. I think I just needed to sleep it off.

Lauren: How's it going in here, Jack? I'm sorry it took me so long to get Curly moving again.

Micky: Are you kidding, babe? He has the easy job. All he does is sit back and make sure we’re putting on the right records and pushing the right buttons and switches.

Jack: It's fine. Ran some music, did some patter, announced the news, made WaterGate jokes. Usual stuff.

Lauren: *nods* I don't know, Mick, sounds like he did a job while we were gone.

Micky: He probably used my WaterGate jokes.

Lauren: YOUR jokes?

Micky: Yeah! Well, I found them.

Jack: I used the same jokes everyone's using.

Lauren: Busted, Mick.

Micky: All right, all right. *sits down in front of the microphone again* I'll take over again. It'll keep me awake.

Lauren: Maybe.

Jack: I'll make some tea and coffee while you're on. Sugar and cream, guys?

Micky: Heavy on both.

Lauren: Nothing in my tea, thanks.

Jack: Right. Your friendly neighborhood butler will be back in a minute. (He heads out the door)

Micky: *snorts* I swear, I don't know what I'd do without him here as producer.

Lauren: Jack's a good guy. *elbows Micky* Coco's got herself a great boyfriend.

Micky: Yeah, she does.

Lauren: *she rests her head on Micky's shoulder* How much longer do you think we're gonna be stuck here?

Micky: I don't know. Not too long, I hope. I just stopped freaking out over that, and I have no idea how long I'll keep it together.

Lauren: Well, how about if you start going like you were earlier, I'll tie you up and leave you in the breakroom. How's that sound?

Micky: *pauses a moment* Sounds like fun.

Lauren: Mick! *We fade out on them laughing.*