Author's Note: Yes, I have something to say before you read this. They're actually apologies. Okay, I think I might have mixed up a few decades so sorry 'bout that. There are no romp scenes. Also, I'm really sorry for not portraying the guys as their off-the-wall, crazy selves. They might seem a little, um, mature? Eh, you decide. Anyway, this is my very first fanfiction story so it might suck, okay? By the way, the setting is pretty much first season, but through the whole thing I pictured Mike like he was in the late second season. Oh yeah, some of my information in the story might be a little inaccurate. If you read the whole story, you might figure out what I mean. And towards the end, time goes by a lot faster. Nevermind, I'm spoiling half the story. ;)

For the past several months, all four Monkees had had good fortune. Mike's hat had stayed intact upon his head for most of the time, but he decided he didn't need it anymore. Davy had managed to snag twenty-nine girls (and surprisingly keep only ten of them). Peter had reached a new low with his creme of rootbeer soup. Micky had kept his food fighting average down to eleven. To top it all off, they did a gig at a local club and got an ongoing job there for $750 a week.

Micky had also met a girl there, Alison. She worked behind the snack counter and Micky had gotten into a delightful conversation with her between his breaks and her waiting on people. Alison was 20 years old, a year younger than him, with an easygoing personality. She was a little shy before she met him, but now she seemed more outgoing. She was always smiling. Her sense of humor was subtle, but no one seemed to notice. She was very pretty with her thick, medium brown hair that hung down to the middle of her back. Her green eyes were deep and mysterious, always seeming to see things in a different way. She thought the same of him. Her face was clear and innocent, yet looked as if she had another, more open, side to her. The thin, well-defined figure she had caught the eyes of many young men, but it was Micky who won her over.

Until recently, he spent most of his time with Alison. He had gotten to know her well, from the color of her eyes to her ex-best friend in seventh grade. Progressively, the audiences at the club got bigger and more demanding of their performing. This continued for about a month. The Monkees had a good reputation and were becoming popular. This was not appealing to Micky all that much, though. Although it was only a month, he began to become lonelier. He hadn't seen her a lot. It hadn't occurred to him how lonely he was until Ali, as he called her, came along. So he and Ali made a plan to meet late one night at the all-night coffee house. The guys couldn't know, especially Mike. Micky had enough to deal with- Mike had told him they had to stay focused on this job. It was the only one they had.

Micky listened at his bedroom door for everything to quiet. Once done, he slunk out of his room and slid down the railing to the first floor, it would make less noise as opposed to walking. He'd gotten very good at this practice of sliding and had made it into an odd art form. He got the keys to the Monkeemobile and snuck out the door. He hadn't realized he had been holding his breath. He let it out in a big whoosh and got into the car. Just to get it over with, he started up the car as fast as he could and pulled onto the street. He drove towards the coffee house, anticipating his 'date' with Alison.

When Micky arrived, he saw Alison standing under a glowing neon light. She was wearing a lightweight green jacket with a white midrif under it. She wore a pair of black bellbottoms, also.

"I thought you'd never show," she said sweetly.
"Sorry. You probably don't want to hang out with a stick-in-the-mud drummer , anyway," he joked.

She giggled as he put his wiry arm around her shoulder and they walked inside. There weren't many people, but they took a back table, anyway. They talked until they ordered.

"So. What have you been doing lately?" Alison asked.
"Thinking about you," Micky said pleasantly.
"What else?" She smiled at that.
"You couldn't possibly think of me that much, could you?" she questioned.
"What, are you nuts? Ali," he said taking her fragile hands into his,"I've hardly seen you in a month and you work five feet away at the counter."
Ali slipped her hands over his lightly. "Listen. This will all be over soon. Don't you worry. Okay?"
"I hate you. How do you do it?" he asked pulling away.
"Do what?"
"Persuade people to change their minds just with words. I doubt that's ever been done before," he said jokingly. Just then, the waiter came over. Actually, it was just a seventeen year old guy obviously nervous for whatever reason.
"Uh, m-m-may I take y-y-your order?"
"Sure . . ." Micky said slyly. "The girl would like a skinnymochacinnoamarettochocolatte with extra cinnamon. Please," he spoke 80 mph. Alison sat in her seat stifling her laugh with her jacket sleeve.
"No, I'll just have a cup of espresso with extra chocolate," Alison corrected the waiter.
"Eeh, I guess I'll have what I just said. But make sure to bring extra sugar, please," Micky told the still baffled man.
"Yes, uh, it'll be here in about ten minutes," he said shaking his head as he walked away.
"How could you do that to me?" Micky asked.
"Do what?" Alison suspected he was going to pull something small on her.
"I order you a twenty syllable cup of coffee and you say 'oh, I'll have an espresso'," he said mimicking her. He looked at his watch- 12:47 AM. It was getting really late.
"Hey, Ali."
"What?"
"Can we, um, meet again- soon?" he asked quietly, looking down at the table.
She had to chuckle. "Of course, Micky. I'd like that a lot," she whispered. "How about tomorrow? We'll hang out on the beach?"

They decided to screw the coffee and go home. Micky once again put his arm around her. Together they walked over to her car. He leaned against the red convertible, much like theirs, she owned. She stepped closer to him, wrapping her arms around him and laying her head on his chest. Micky had to react. He leaned down to put his arms around her waist, her head now on his shoulder.

"Ali," he whispered.
"Yes," she whispered back, eyes closed. He had to force the words out. "I-I-I l-l-l . . ." he stuttered. Ali stood up straight now, looking right at him. He froze and looked away.
"Never mind," he whispered tensely as he gently nudged her away from him and made his way to the Monkeemobile. Alison stood there in the hazy, mid-summer night, confused and even a bit disappointed. She sighed sadly and got into her car.

Micky, meanwhile, was trying to push out what had happened minutes ago out of his mind. He had embarrassed himself so badly. She'll probably never want to talk to me again, he thought gloomily even though he was overreacting. He would still meet her tomorrow at the beach. He grabbed his drumsticks which were in the passenger seat.
"Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!" he scolded himself outloud, hitting his head with them.
"OW!" he yelled as he threw them in the backseat, clutching his head with one hand and trying to drive with the other.

When he got home, it was 1:13 AM. He stepped into the house, sleepiness overcoming him. As he walked in further, he saw Mike pacing back and forth nervously in front of the stage. Mike had heard the door open.

"Micky?! Where the hell have you been?!" Mike snapped angrily in Papa Nez mode. Micky was in no mood for this. He looked him straight in the eyes.
"None of your business. I've got a throbbing headache. Let me go to bed. And stop yelling or you'll wake Davy and Peter up," Micky rasped and ran up the stairs to his room. Mike could tell something was obviously wrong. Well, it would have to wait 'til morning.

Micky lay restless in bed, making an effort to get to sleep. His mind kept replaying the night's events. As much as he tried to block it out, he couldn't. Over and over he would ask himself why he had screwed up. He knew he loved her more than anything. So why couldn't he just tell her? He drifted off to sleep with these thoughts still in his head.

The next day, Micky and Alison punched out early from work. Or kinda snuck out. They drove to the Monkees pad in Alison's car. They both went inside and got changed into their bathing suits or whatever each of them was going to wear. They would meet outside on the beach bringing towels along. It was almost sunset and that made things look even better.

Micky walked outside in an open button up shirt and a red bathing suit (almost, ahem, Davy-short I might add) with a towel humming "Saturday's Child". It could pretty much sum up part of the situation he was in. Though he had had some aquaintences in the past, they meant nothing to him. Nothing special, just aquaintences. This was different, though. He was almost positive she was the one for him. They had been together long enough for him to conciously reach a conclusion. He just hoped she thought the same. He was snapped out of his thoughts when he spotted Alison sitting near the water's edge with her back to him. He quietly got up behind her and covered her eyes with his hands. Sure he knew it was babyish, but hey, what the heck.

"Guess who," he said.
"Hmm, who could it be . . .? I know! You're Elf Man, aren't you?" she giggled.
He removed his hands from her eyes.
"Elf Man? Who's Elf Man? Only superheroes I know of are Monkee Men."
"I don't know. But I guess I could go for Monkee Men," she said sarcastically as she stood up and turned around to face him.

He hadn't noticed- her back had been to him -but she wasn't exactly wearing a bathing suit. What she was wearing though were a pair of denim French-cut shorts, frayed just right (you KNOW the kind I'm talking about). She had on a slightly baggy black tanktop that showed off the upper half of her shapely figure.

"Ali, uh, where'd your bathing suit go? Not that I'm complaining, though," he asked.
"Well, I evidently forgot my bathing suit so I just took what I had in my trunk. I went to my cousin's last weekend and I still haven't unpacked yet."
He nodded his head as if to say 'oh'.
"Well, we shouldn't just stand around, let's go! Come on!" With that she ran off into the water with Micky trailing behind her.

She had gone under the water and he couldn't see her anymore. In fact, he didn't even know where she had gone exactly until a pair of arms wrapped around his middle and he was pulled backwards into the water. He came back up coughing a little bit and saw Alison standing a few yards away from him laughing. He stood there waist-high in the water soaking wet with hands on hips.

"So, you think this is funny?" he asked slyly. She nodded and continued to laugh with her hand covering her mouth. He started to trudge through the water towards her.
"Oh, you're gonna pay for that," he threatened playfully.
"No, come on, don't," she pleaded and giggled at the same time. But he still kept getting closer to her. She made no real effort to move. When he was only a few feet away, he suddenly dove under the water. Before Alison could react, something (ha!) grabbed her around the knees and she, now, was knocked backwards. After several seconds of waiting, she hadn't come back to the surface.

"Ali . . . Ali . . . I can take a hint, okay? You can come back up now," he tried calling out to wherever she was. He waded through the water moving his hands around the surface, as if it would help him see her. Suddenly, she popped up out of the water behind him. He spun around causing water droplets to fly.

"Man, you really had me goin' for a second there," he remarked, trying to cover up his unnecessary worry.
"Sorry. You had it comin' to you, though," she retorted.
"Do I have to dunk you again?" he asked.
"Only if your willing to risk your girlfriend's life," she smirked sarcastically.
"It's a thought-" he started to say.

She interjected in artificial disgust and splashed some water at him. He stumbled back at the contact with the water melodramatically then sent a small wave tumbling in her direction. It hit her and sent her stumbling back slightly, also. With that, they got into a water fight sending waves and splashes back at each other, left and right. They had to stop and stagger back to shore because they had practically doubled over with laughter. They grabbed their towels, dried themselves off, and sat behind the rocks that overhung the ocean. It had gotten a little later and the sun had visibly started to set. Their wet clothes clung to their bodies even though the towels were draped over them. Alison sat with Micky straddling her. His arms were around her shoulders, his hands clasped together in the front, Alison's overlapping them. Her head rested on his chest as they watched the sun set below the horizon. The ocean breeze tousled their hair about. This was something that seemed to bring them closer, for some reason. They had never done something like this before- simple and nice. They were happy with each other's presence. Nothing needed to be said. Then Micky lowered his head so his mouth was right next to her ear.

"Ali . . ." he started softly.
"What?" She turned her head so she could see part of his face. He brushed a stray tress of hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear.
"I have a secret to tell you," he whispered into her ear tantalizingly. He waited for a reaction for her.
"Go on."
He took a deep, silent breath. "I've wanted to say this for a long time, Ali- I love you."
Her eyes dilated and her lower jaw dropped in surprise and delectation. A pleased smile made its way across her face as she got up just enough to turn around and face him. A smile crossed his face, too, but it was a shy one, as he would look at the sand beside him.
"Ever since I saw you at the club from the bandstand the first time, I've loved you," he still whispered.
"I can't explain it without saying that everything in my heart and soul is wanting you more and more with each day coming and going," he finished.

Alison took his chin in one of her hands and guided his head so his eyes were level with hers. She was glad she had met him. She was glad she was with him. Never before had a man told her he'd loved her and she felt it was true in her heart and soul. But now . . . he was so much more than that . . . he was sincere. She had sat through many performances of "Sometime in the Morning" and everytime she heard it, she was compelled to think that he was directing some of those lyrics towards her. Now she began to wonder if that was actually true.

"I couldn't have said it better myself," she said genuinely.

He cupped her face in his hands and brought it closer to him. His lips skimmed over hers for several quick seconds. By then, his arms had made their way around her waist and were gripping her tighter. His hair was twined around her fingers. He had straightened his legs out in front of him and Ali had practically crawled into his lap. She pressed him closer, forcing a deeper kiss (not that either of them minded). Their towels had fallen off by now. They had gotten so involved in this fling that the world around them was forgotten, including the other fellas whom had gotten home not too long ago. They all knew Micky had disappeared but they had to stay at the club. Now when they saw Alison's car, they knew he'd have to be around there somewhere. It was twilight so with a flashlight in hand, they set off in different directions, calling his name, to look for their 'lost' friend. They tried the obvious places first- his bedroom, the balcony, the refrigerator, the front streets, and (just) along the beach. When Davy was about to go back up to the house, his eyes wandered over to the rocks *lightbulb*. He jogged noiselessly over to the edge of them and peeked around. Sure enough, there were Micky and Alison (we already know what they're doing, hehehe...). Just then, Mike and Peter appeared from halfway down the beach.

"Hey, Davy! Did you find 'im yet?" Peter shouted quite loudly.

Davy held up a finger to his lips giving them a 'shh' and nodding his head towards the rocks. Mike and Peter shrugged but went over to join Davy. Then, they, too, saw what was going on. The quartet minus one drummer went unnoticed by the couple who hadn't come up for air for quite some time now. The trio continued to peek around the rocks wide-eyed. Even our dead pan Texan had a distinctive look of amusement on his face. Peter and Davy shared impish smiles that played at the corners of their mouths.

"Wow, that's the longest time I've ever seen anybody not come up for air! Even for me," Davy remarked.
"Come on, fellas. Let's just leave 'em alone," Mike said reluctantly as he started to walk back towards the house.
"They're happier there. I can tell," Peter claimed.
"You think, Peter?" Davy asked, now following Mike. Peter nodded his head forcefully and hopped up behind them.
"Did you hear something?" Micky asked almost breathlessly back at the rocks, coming up quickly only a few millimeters away from Ali's lips.
"Not a thing," she said just as breathlessly and pulled him back down.

Their little spree lasted a few more sensuous minutes. Alison finally stood up and brushed the sand from her hair and clothes. Micky got up and did the same. He led her to the house, hand in hand, so she could get her things. While she did so, he went and got changed. When he got downstairs, she was standing at the door patiently.

"Aren't you going to leave?" he mock-complained.
"Aren't you going to escort me to my car?" she retorted.
"You're rude," he said, but went out the door with her to the car.
"So. Will I see you tomorrow?" she asked.
"Well, tomorrow's our day off . . . would you like to go somewhere decent?" he asked.
"Sure. I'd like that a lot. I'll meet you at Chez Madame at 7:00, okay?"
"Yeah, groovy. I can't argue with that."
"Great! Now, I have to go. I'll see ya tomorrow. Bye," she said and got into her car.

He watched her disappear down the street. He walked back to the house, taking his time. Shaking his head, he tried not to think about their date too much. If he did that, he'd probably get nervous, but that was bound to happen anyway. He heaved a heavy sigh and went back inside. Davy was at the table staring at the phone, waiting to tear its head off at any moment. Peter was sitting on the couch reading a magazine. Mike stood on their stage tuning his guitar. The door shut and they all glanced up from their work.

He watched her disappear down the street. He walked back to the house, taking his time. Shaking his head, he tried not to think about their date too much. If he did that, he'd probably get nervous, but that was bound to happen anyway. He heaved a heavy sigh and went back inside. Davy was at the table staring at the phone, waiting to tear its head off at any moment. Peter was sitting on the couch reading a magazine. Mike stood on their stage tuning his guitar. The door shut and they all glanced up from theirwork.

"What?" Micky asked.
"Did you have fun?" Davy blurted out shamelessly.
"Very funny," Micky shot back.
"Oh, that's horrible," Mike scolded and put down his guitar.
"Well?" Davy paided no attention to Mike. He gave Micky a curious stare that made him even more hesitant to answer. Mike walked over to where Davy sat.
"Hey fellas, just leave him alone. If he doesn't wanna answer that's his business," Peter said, looking up from his magazine again.
"Be quiet, Peter," Davy and Mike said in unison. Yes, even Mike wanted to know now. Micky rolled his eyes and gave in.
"Yeah, I had fun," he said very boldly. "You should know, you stood right there."
"Then why didn't you do anything about it?" Davy questioned.
"Would you have stopped to get rid of us if you were busy?" Micky pointed out.
"He's got a point, you know," Mike said.
"Are you finished questioning me, now?" he asked impatiently. Mike looked at Davy for an answer.
"No! Are you kiddin' me?" Micky was about to threaten him when a pillow flew straight at Davy's head and BULLSEYE!
"Thanks, Pete," he said and went upstairs.
"Anytime, Mick, anytime."

Sunday morning, Mike, Peter, and Davy sat down at the table having breakfast. While Davy and Peter continued to giggle and throw Rice Krispies at each other, Mike just ate, lost in thought. By the first time Micky came sliding down the railing that morning, Rice Krispies were scattered all over the floor and Davy and Peter had milk dripping from their hair. Micky just poured himself some cereal and orange juice and tried to eat in silence.

"So, Mick . . . what's up?" Mike asked.
"Nothing," Micky replied rather flattly.
"Where were you Friday night?"

Micky's head snapped up. Mike gave the other two a look that said to go away and take a shower. Once they were gone, Mike stated the question again.

"Why do you want to know?" Micky asked.
"Well, I hope it's okay to worry about one of your best friends at 12:30 in the morning. Some pretty severe things could happen to a guy," Mike informed.
You're tellin' me, Micky thought, flashing back to that night. Mike saw Micky didn't want to talk about it. He knew that he hadn't meant for the guys to find him last night.
"What are you gonna do today? Anything special?"
"No," he lied."Just hang around here?"
"Sounds fine to me." Mike sighed.
"Hey, I know! Why don't all of us go to dinner tonight or something," Mike suggested. "We'll go to Chez Madame. We have today off anyway."
Micky's eyes widened. That's where he was supposed to meet Alison! "No."
"Aw, come on. It's been a while since we've had some edible food anyway. Peter better lay off cooking."
"Mike," Micky was beginning to get aggravated,"just let me finish my breakfast, okay?"
"No, you need to get out. You haven't looked too well lately. Except for last night," he added. And that was that. Micky was stuck.

At about 6:30 P.M., the four started getting ready. All had taken showers (especially Davy and Peter) and cleaned up. Everybody thought it'd be fun to go, but, as he expected, Micky was nervous the whole time. His luck had started to run out on him. He decided to face it, anyway. First, he slipped and fell in the shower. Then, he couldn't find his tie. Next, he was still worrying about how he could get away from the guys and meet up with Alison. Overall, he was really high-strung.

They pulled into the Chez Madame parking lot, dressed in their semi-formal suits (like in the Monkees vs. Machine episode, for those who have seen it). Micky prayed nothing awful would happen. When they were parking, he noticed the red convertible parked near the back. He knew it was probably Ali's, despite his nervousness. The quartet walked in, Micky trailing. He glanced around the half-candle-lit restaurant looking for his date. In the corner, Ali sat awaiting her beau. Micky looked her way and pointed to the guys. She shrugged. Lipsynching to her, he told her to just order dinner and not worry. She looked at him longingly. Micky had figured out a way to get away from his friends. It wasn't going to please them very much, but he had to go for it.

They were seated at their table and picked up their menus. After about fifteen minutes, the waiter came over and they ordered.

"I'll have the steak," Mike said.
"I'm going to have the chicken nuggets," Peter stated.
"I guess I'll have a salad with blue cheese dressing," Davy told him.
It was time to put Micky's plan to work. "Um, I'm just gonna have a burger and could you bring a bottle of wine?" Micky asked. The others looked at him awkwardly as the waiter walked away. Micky took his menu again and held it in front of his face so he wouldn't have to watch his friends eyeing him.

Their dinner came and they ate for the next forty five minutes (Davy had some problems keeping his salad to himself). Mike, Peter, and Davy each had only one glass of wine, but Micky poured himself one glass after another, then toss the liquid out under the table. No one seemed to notice this. Fifteen minutes later, they had all finished and Micky had thrown six glasses of wine under the table. Slowly, he slumped down in his chair, layed his head on the back loosely, and closed his eyes. All a part of his inept plan.

"Mmm. Those chicken nuggets were good," Peter said, satisfied.
"Yeah, that steak was really delicious," Mike said.
"My dinner sucked!" Davy complained. "That dressing was horrible!"
"Well, I'd think so. It's all over you!" Mike pointed out.
Micky sat limply in his chair, saying nothing.
"Mick, is something wrong?" Mike asked, concerned. Micky looked up lazily. "No, of course not, you shilly sit," he slurred out. "Uh, I'll be right back. I gotta go to the john, er, comfort room." He ran off to the bathroom, bumping into various objects. On the way there, he gave Ali a wink and nodded his head towards the bathroom.

"Hey guys. What do you think is wrong with Micky?" Mike asked.
"He's drunk," Peter said simply. "Don't worry. All he needs is a good whack in the head with his drumsticks. He'll pass out and have an aching headache in the morning. But he won't be drunk."

Meanwhile, Micky waited in the hallway to the restrooms for Ali to come meet him. He stood there with a bunch of thoughts whirling around inside his head. Such thoughts had to do with the group, Ali (of course), and what may eventually happen between them if things went smooth. The last one made him blush and put a shy smile on his face, even though no one was around to see it. He was facing the wall and didn't know that Alison had come into the hallway until she tapped him on the shoulder. He knew it was her. He spun around to see her smiling face.

"Oh . . .my, my," was all he could get out.

He looked at her in somewhat awe because, well, she looked pretty good in his opinion and probably anyone else with a close to normal mind. She had on a black slip dress that ended at her knees. The spaghetti straps that held up the dress revealed part of her bra, but she didn't seem to mind.

"Thanks. You don't look so bad yourself," she complimented.
They were both hesitant for a few seconds, not knowing what to do.
"Oh, what the hell," Micky mumbled under his breath as he grabbed her around the waist and kissed her.

With electricity becoming stronger by the second, he had her up against the door to the ladies' room, not once stopping for air. All of a sudden, they fell down into the bathroom. They hadn't known it was a swinging door. Stupid door . . . Both surprised, they started to laugh and brushed themselves off.

"Whew. Sorry 'bout that," Micky said now a little embarrassed and running a hand through his hair.
"That's quite alright," she said.
"Let me tell you something . . . the only thing I could concentrate on today was you," he said, leaning in for another kiss.
"Wait," she said, putting a finger to his lips,"I'll be back in a second. Don't go anywhere."

She looked at him with those mysterious eyes, now changing her clean, innocent face take on a risque look. She walked into the- mens' room? Micky looked puzzled, but waited anyway. He heard a click from inside the bathroom. Ali walked out with a wide grin, holding something in her hand. He decided to wait to ask her until they were in the car. They strode out of the hallway hand in hand. At the same time, Mike and Davy were looking at Peter, surprised by his little explanation about Micky. They were even more shocked to see what was coming out of the hallway to the restrooms- Micky and a very attractive girl whom they knew was Alison heading towards the doors and then to who knows where.

The two sauntered over to her car (the guys wouldn't have any means of transportation otherwise). Alison tossed Micky the keys. They scurried into the car, Micky in the driver's seat, Ali in the passenger seat. He put the keys in the ignition to start the car, but stopped.

"What?" Alison asked.
"How am I supposed to drive without knowing where we're heading?" he asked.
Good point. She didn't know either.
"Well, we can't go back to your place, so . . ." she said and touched his cheek gently,"why don't we go back to my place?" she suggested.
"Sure. That sounds cool," he said casually. He then started up the car and pulled out of the parking lot.

Halfway to Ali's house, he asked her something . . .
"Ali, before when you went in the mens' room, what did you do?"

She simply opened her hand to reveal a small, blue package with a circular bump in the middle. Micky looked a bit dumbfounded and blushed again. He slid his arm around her, keeping one hand on the wheel. She lay her head on his shoulder making herself comfortable until they arrived at her house.

The convertible pulled into the blacktop driveway. They got out of the car and Micky threw Alison back the keys. The pair rushed into her rented two-floor house enthusiastically, slamming the door shut behind them. Micky had become even more intrigued than before as he followed Ali up the stairs to her bedroom. It was evident- Ali's other side had surfaced. She stopped at her doorway and looked at him with those deep, green eyes and then slipped into the bedroom. He paused to follow her, but went in to see what she was up to. The lights hadn't been turned on; the open window let the full moon's light in, curtains fluttering in the mid-summer night breeze. She had been standing a few feet inside the doorway. She took him by the tie, which he had undone in the car, and led him over to the end of the unmade bed. She then sat down, taking him with her. He thought she still looked gorgeous. How he wanted to slide those spaghetti straps right off of her . . . but he was going to wait until she made the move. He wanted to say something, anything, but he didn't know what. Luckily, she began to speak first.

"Micky, you love me, right?" she whispered.
"Yes."
"And you know know I love you, right?"
"Uh-huh." "But do you know how long I've kept it seriously inside me?"
"No."
"Do you want me to show you?"
He was a little stunned about how she came out and said it, but couldn't help getting his feelings provoked.
"Yeah . . ." he replied, trying to keep the hint of eagerness out of his voice.
"Do you want me to show you how you make me feel?" she continued to ask, running her fingers through his hair now. He nodded forcefully.
"Then are you gonna keep me waiting?"

He shook his head very emphatically and took her in his arms again. He kissed her, not like usual, and with more feeling put into it. It consisted of a hunger and desire they had always felt for each other, but didn't let it show that much, not even yesterday at the beach. Her hands left his hair and started unbuttoning his shirt, his tie falling off in the process. His jacket was already in her car, for he had taken that off, too.

"You sure you wanna do this?" he breathed and with his arms in back of her, began to unzip her dress.
"Uh-huh."
"Okay," he said as she adjusted herself so the dress would slide off her.

She then unbuckled his belt and whipped it off his waist. As he worked at unhooking her bra and wondered why there had to be so many hooks, he felt her fingers swiftly trail over his erection which caused him to flinch a little, but he settled back down. He finished getting her bra off and she had finished pulling his pants down enough so that he would have to do the rest. By this time, they were down to underwear which came off pretty rapidly. So with that, they finally collapsed onto the bed. He was on his back and she had crawled on top of him. She looked at him seductively and he completely lost it from there. He pulled her down so she was totally on him. He kissed her intensely on the lips, then more lightly all the way down to the hollow of her chest. She sighed of what sounded like relief. She traced her fingers down his chest and stomach to his base and pressed very lightly on it. He took in a sharp breath. She moved her fingers from the base and started to, more precisely, touch him. Mere pleasure tipped off his nerves and a low moan escaped his lips. She smiled. She liked knowing he was content. She held onto the headboard to hold herself up and then placed herself where she could 'reach' him and pushed him into her. Micky gasped, not knowing that it would have brought such bliss to him as it had. All the nervousness and tension he had felt earlier that night were wisked away, now replaced with a feeling like none he or Alison had ever felt before. Both left speechless in feeling, he managed to get his arms around her waist. As if on cue, they began to move their hips slowly, making them enjoy every sensual moment of it. She then fingered him affectionately, stimulating the development of a constant, quick-paced rhythm with their hips. She could even hear her lover's breath shaking. Their breath came out in long moans of gratification, sometimes even catching in their throats. Once again, she put her fingers down at his base, and this time, squeezed gently. He orgasmed, accompanied by a loud 'ugh'. They were in the peak of their ecstasy, aware of the beads of sweat that had formed on their brows which were furrowed in concentration. A small time span of rest was needed, but when over, continued well into the night.

They finally exhausted and slid off each other, panting, feeling a faint pulse of pleasure running through them. They lay there and finally caught their breath, Micky taking her in his arms. They stayed like that with their eyes closed for God knows how long, an invisible wind of serenity settling on them. Nothing was spoken, this was not a time for words. What had just happened said it all, anyway. It was just one another's presence now that made them happy. Micky opened his eyes unhastily and looked at the clock- well past three. Their souls had most definately fused together that night. They each knew it. The thought floated around in their heads. They fell asleep, still embracing each other, the blowing curtains and moonlight playing shadows on their bare figures.

Micky slowly awoke the next morning to the sound of dogs barking in the distance. He didn't know where he was for a second then turned his head and saw Alison sleeping next to him. She was lying on her stomach with her arms tucked under the pillow. They had obviously broke the 'hug' in the middle of the night. He realized they were both still bare, but a single sheet had been pulled up during the remainder of the night. He scooted closer to her and brushed her cheek in a soft kiss.

"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty," he whispered. Her eyes opened halfway, still tired. She saw him next to her and grinned, cuddling closer to him. She kissed his neck to show she was, at the very least, concious.
"Sleep okay?" he asked.
"Mm-hmm," she mumbled.
"What do you have planned for today?"
"Lying here with you," she said.
"I wish I could. You have to drive me home, anyway."
"No," she almost groaned,"stay. Please." Her eyes pleaded. God he didn't want to say no. Wait a minute, who was he kidding? He couldn't say no.
"Okay. For a little while," he whispered and went to hold her again. They were fixed like that for another half hour or so, still awake. Micky finally sat up and got to his feet. Ali sat up, too.
"Where are you going?"
"I gotta get home. The guys are probably wondering what happened to me, especially after what they think I did in the restaurant last night."

Micky and Alison gathered their clothes and got dressed quickly. He really didn't want to leave, but he knew he had to. Walking out to the car, Ali realized he might be a little vulnerable- he'd been reluctant to go home- and hoped he'd be okay for the meantime. Micky drove again with Ali tucked in the crook of his arm.

"Are you gonna be okay?" she asked, concerned.
"I'll be fine. Trust me," he half-lied, looking at her with his seemingly truthful eyes. It was hard not to believe them, but she'd have to for now.
"Alright," she sighed.

They pulled up to the beach house and walked to the door. Their arms slipped around each other in a sincere hug. Before they knew it, their lips were pressed against each others- but the moment had to end. They slowly pulled away from each other. Micky watched as the red car disappeared down the street once again and walked into the house. It didn't look like anyone was home.

"Hey guys," he called. "Hey Pete . . . Davy . . . Mike, where are you?" Then it hit him. It was Monday! They had to play at the club today! "Ohhhh noooo!" he shouted. Mike was gonna be so pissed.

Micky went to his room to get changed to go to the club. He didn't bother to comb his hair, though. He went to get his drumsticks and remembered they were still in the backseat. In all his panic, he'd forgotten that they had the car. He sighed and decided to just hang out until they got home. He sat down on the couch and watched TV for a little while. Then he got something to eat. Afterwards, he realized how tired he actually was (he hadn't gotten much sleep the night before) and went back up to his room, only to fall asleep.

At about 10:30 P.M., Micky was awaken by the house door closing and muffled voices, except Mike's- he sounded angry. He walked to his door to listen.

"I don't believe this. It's not like Micky to skip a gig, let alone a job!" he spit out.
"Mike, get a grip. It was an accident. When he gets home, we'll talk to him, okay?" Peter said trying to calm him down. Mike was really overreacting.
"Hey, now wait a minute. He is home. See, there's his jacket," Davy said pointing to the couch.

Micky's mouth dropped open and he jumped back on his bed. He really didn't feel like confronting Mike. Like a few nights ago, he didn't need Mike playing parent or yelling at him.

It was about another half an hour later and no one had bothered Micky. He got up to get a snack. When he got to the bottom of the stairs, he saw Mike on the couch in his pajamas playing some simple chords on his guitar. Luckily, Mike had calmed down and refused to let Micky get away from talking. Micky, on the other hand, just wanted to try to avoid talking. He felt that even though Mike had kind of been appointed the 'big brother' role, he didn't want to tell him what was going on in his personal life because he knew that if he did, it would sooner or later come to that. Micky walked over to the cabinet avoiding Mike's gaze and pulled out a can of small can of chili.

"Hey Micky, why don't you just sit down a sec," Mike said. Before he could even get something to open the can with, Micky rolled his eyes and flopped down in a chair across from Mike.
"What," he sighed. "I just wanna let you know somethin' on behalf of Peter, Davy, and myself," he began, putting down his guitar. "We've all been kinda worried about you lately. Especially with you goin' out late at night. And last night, you got drunk and went off again and didn't come back. You didn't come to the club today. Do you know how hard it is to play without a drummer? Thankfully, Davy knows how to play 'em a little."
Micky sat there taking all of this in. "No, I don't. Look, can you just lay off it for a little while?" he asked.
He felt more guilty, now that he tried talking to him. Mike sighed heavily. "Hold on one second," he said walking up the spiral staircase.

He knocked on Peter's door and said something about help (no, not the Beatles' movie). Peter tried to put up an arguement because he didn't want to be prying or anything and as he said before, it was Micky's business. Mike quickly promised him he'd buy him a new teddy bear if he did. He obviously agreed because he came hopping down the stairs. Mike thanked him and went to his room. Micky was only a bit relieved that at least Peter would have to talk to him. He slouched back in the chair with his hands folded across his stomach as Peter took Mike's place on the couch.

"Hi," Peter said cheerfully. "I haven't seen you almost all weekend."
"So I've heard."
"Where'd you go?" he asked non-threateningly. Micky didn't know what to tell him. What was the use? He could tell him part of the truth to save time, anyway. Peter saw that he didn't want to say anything, but it was made his duty to find out.

"Come on, you can tell me." Micky looked at the floor and took a deep breath. He had to tell it sometime.
"Okay. You know how we've been doing really well at the club?" Peter nodded. "And you know how I was dating Alison?" Peter nodded and this time tried to hide a smile. "Well, I think that if your girlfriend, whom you've really come to care for, works five feet away from you and you don't seriously see her for about a month, that's a pretty weird situation and people do some really weird things." Peter just sat there listening attentively, for this meant a teddy bear when he reported back to Mike. Not to mention he was interested now.
"On Friday night," he started again slowly,"I simply went to meet Alison at the coffee house. We talked too long and lost track of the time. Saturday, well I think you already know about Saturday. But before she left, she asked if I wanted to meet her at the restaurant on Sunday and I said sure. We all ended up going, though. I didn't get drunk, I wouldn't do that. It was just a cover up 'cause I had to meet up with Ali."
"So where were you last night?" Peter finally spoke.
"Ali's house," Micky said reluctantly. Peter thought for a moment.
"And how 'bout today?"
"Here."
"What did you do all day?"
" Sleep."
"Why?"
"Um . . . I didn't get too much sleep last night." Peter stopped to think again.

Once he put two and two together, he (*got four!*) realized what had probably happened. His mouth dropped open and his eyes widened. He returned to his 'normal' face. Before he could say anything more, Micky had jumped up and fled to his room, closing the door with a BANG behind him. Peter sat on the couch, a little confused as to what just happened. He got up and walked upstairs. He listened at Micky's door for any sort of sound.

"Hey, Micky? You okay?" Peter asked, knocking on the door.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Micky muttered from inside after a short pause.
"Okay. Good night." Peter shrugged his shoulders and went back to his room realizing he'd said barely anything. He also knew now why he hadn't wanted to talk to Mike. Peter would try to keep his secret as long as Mike didn't mention the teddy bear.

Micky paced around his room. He had calmed down. He had run to his room because he just didn't feel like talking especially after he had already said too much.

"What am I going to do?!" he asked himself outloud. "Everything is all screwed up!"

He went over to his dresser and pulled out an undershirt. It got kinda hot in the summers and they hadn't had a chance to fix the air conditioner. He got changed and undressed his bed. Then he grabbed a magazine off his nightstand and flopped down on his bed. He flipped through it looking for something interesting to read. He didn't find anything so he threw it across the room. He was still tired anyway. He switched the lamp off and pulled a couple sheets up. He set his alarm clock for 9:00 A.M. and a few minutes later, he was asleep.

About another month and a half passed by after the incident (no, not until he woke up, stupid). And very well at that. Micky had gotten his act together and had managed to see Alison a couple times a week. It was at this time that they had been going out for a year. He was happy with that. So was Alison. He had also showed up for every performance at the club, which the others were happy with. Once again, things were going great. But towards the end of that time span, Ali took on an unusual change. Micky figured it was probably PMS or something (hey, it does happen every so often that a guy knows). But it wasn't that. She was fatigued, more than usual, but they didn't worry about that. Yet, other things were present that usually weren't. In the morning, she would often experience nausea and throwing up, too. Micky was starting to get more worried about her.

She wasn't at the club one day so on a break, he gave her a call to see if she was alright. He was very persistent on getting her on the phone. The line finally picked up.

"Hello?" an exasperated voice answered on the other end.
"Hello? Ali?" Micky asked.
"Oh, sorry. Hi." Good. It was her.
"I just wanted to make sure you're alright. You know, the throwing up and all of that."
"Yeah. Micky, I'd love to talk longer, but I'm kinda in a rush."
"Why? What happened?"
"I'm already fifteen minutes late for a doctor's appointment. I'll call you later, okay? Bye." She hung up the phone.
"Wait! Ali! What . . . when . . .?" Micky was left there in confusion. Oh well. He'd have to wait until tonight to get a good word in.

A few minutes after the Monkees got home, the phone rang.

"I got it!" Micky shouted and ran for the phone. "Hello?" he asked and dropped the receiver. "Sorry. Hello?"
"Hi, Micky? It's Ali."
"Oh hi! I'm so glad it's you. How'd it go? I've been waiting to hear from you all day."
"I guess it went . . . okay. Look, I have to tell you something very important. It might be better if I told you face to face." She sounded very serious all of a sudden. Even a little nervous.
"Hey, you wanna come over here real quick then?" he offered.
"Yeah, sure. I'll be there in ten minutes. Bye."

He hung up the phone and fumbled with the receiver again. He tried to wait patiently, but those ten minutes seemed like an eternity to him. Finally, there was a knock at the door. He went and got it. Ali stood there.

"Hi. Come on in," he waved his hand towards the living room.
"Thanks, but can we go somewhere else?" she asked quietly.
"Sure."

She took him by the hand and led him to the beach. She seemed to have mellowed. They walked hand in hand again without saying anything for a while. The waves crashing against the shore and the wind were the only real sound that could be heard. All of a sudden, Micky decided break the silence between them.

"Hey, Ali."
"Yeah?"
"I've waited all day. I can't stay in suspense any longer."
"Well, you might want to know why I went to the doctor's first, right?"
"Yup. Go ahead. Explain."
"We both know that the club has been busy lately, so we weren't worried about that. But what I didn't tell was that . . ." she trailed off.
"Keep going," he urged. They had stopped walking and were quite far from the house.
"I didn't get my period," she whispered so he could hardly hear her. "Now I waited about another week and, you know, nothing happened. So I was a little worried then. Not to mention the nausea. Anyway, the doctor gave me a check-up and did a couple tests and," she took a deep breath and held both his hands,"he told me I'm pregnant." A small smile formed on her face. She looked like she was trying to hide some excitement. His eyes widened.
"What?" he asked in an involuntary, high-pitched voice.
"I'm about a month and a half pregnant," she repeated. This time, as he half-laughed, a smile formed on his face. She shrieked- out of joy. Then Micky shrieked out of the same sort of joy she probably felt. He picked her up and twirled both of them around then put her down.
"Wow, I think it just came as a shock, you know. But wow, that's great, I mean . . ." he was at a loss of words, not knowing how to react exactly anymore.
"That's okay. I didn't know how to react when I was told either," Alison said.
"So you were okay the whole time?"
"Yup. It was just morning sickness."
"Oh. Hey, can I ask you somethin' then?"
"Sure."
"Um, I am the father . . . right?" he asked in a small voice, his face flushing a little.
She chuckled. "Of course. Well I better be going. It's late and we both have things to do." She started to head for her car with Micky following her.
"I'll see you tomorrow?" he asked.
"Uh-huh. Now, I've really got to go. Bye," she said and gave him a peck on the cheek before jogging down the beach.

As she hurried away, he walked back to the house. Once he got in, he stretched out on the couch and let out a tired sigh. Then he heard the guys come out of their rooms. He covered his face with his hands and groaned.

"So Micky. What happened?" Peter blurted out. Micky said something but it came out all garbled.
"What did you say?" Mike asked. Micky sat up and took his hands away from his face.
"I'm gonna be a daddy," he repeated hesitantly. Now their eyes went wide. Everything was silent for a moment.
"Hey, that's great. We're very happy for you." That's all Mike said before going back to his room.
"Way to go," Davy said mischievously then went to his room, too. Peter hadn't said anything yet and stayed behind."Hey, Mick?" he started.
"Yeah, Pete?"
"Well, I guess this is great and all like Mike said, but do you think you're ready for this?" Peter was concerned about his friend. He knew he was still getting things together like the rest of them. Micky thought for a minute and then stood up.
"Well, I guess I have to be. I'm not going to leave Ali or anything, what kind of person would I be then, you know? But, she and I made it and it's our responsibility. What can you do?" Peter nodded thoughtfully.
"Congratulations, then." He gave him a pat on the back and like the others, went back to his room. Micky was left alone and ran a hand through his hair. He had started to think on his way back to the house earlier. He was going to do something that would mean a whole lot if Ali agreed to it.
Soon, he thought, very soon.

The following week, he got a call from Alison asking if he could come over. She sounded a little uncomfortable, but he didn't ask questions. He quickly said fine. He wasn't busy, anyway. It was kind of late so he grabbed a pair of pajama boxers and an undershirt out of his drawer. Before he left, he wrote a note and left it on the table. It read:

Whoever finds this first-

I'm going to Alison's house. Don't wait up.

Sincerely, Micky

Micky knocked on her door another ten minutes later. The door opened slowly to reveal Alison standing there. She was wearing a T-shirt that he could see was a few sizes too big for her. Her hair was tied up in a loose loop at the base of her head. She had no makeup on, but he thought she still looked terrific.

"Hi! Come on in," she greeted.
"Hi," he said buoyantly, walking into the house and closing the door.
"Are you alright? You sounded a little uneasy over the phone," he said with his voice taking on a serious tone. She bit her lower lip and smiled impishly. Her head nodded languidly.
"Then why did you call me?"
"Because I just wanted to see you," she simply replied.
"You could have told me that," he said casually and smiled. "I would have come anyway."
"I'll remember that next time," she informed him. Then she noticed the wad of clothes in his hand. A sly smile crossed her face.
"What?" he asked. Her smile widened a little bit and she grabbed them from him quickly.
"Na-na-na, na-na-na!" she teased childishly and waved them in his face.
"Oh, that's very mature," he quipped. "Now can I have them back? Please?" He started backing her up towards the couch now.
"Why?"
"Because if you don't, I'll tickle you," he threatened.
"You wouldn't dare," she challenged.
"Oh really?" he said as he tackled her to the flannel-covered couch. She let out a yelp and started to laugh uncontrollably as he began to tickle her stomach. She tried to slap his hands away, but he took both her wrists in one hand and continued with the other.
"Stop, please, stop it!" she cried out, still laughing. She tried squirming out of his grasp but couldn't.
"Are you gonna give them back?" he asked.
"Okay, okay. You win," she surrendered, out of breath, as he let go of her. She collapsed on the back of the couch as Micky sat down on the floor in front of her. He lay his head sideways on her lap for no reason. She dropped the clothes in front of him and he caught them.
"What do you plan on doing with them?" she asked, pointing to the small pile of clothing.
"I plan on getting changed," he answered.
"Why did you tickle me?" Alison inquired, changing the subject. "Because I love you. And because I told you I would if you didn't give my stuff back."
"You're so mean," she said sarcastically.
"I know. I'm such a bad little boy." She laughed.
"Go get changed," she demanded softly, nudging him with her knee.
"Yes, Mommy," he said in a child-like voice as he ran up the stairs to her bathroom.

A few minutes later, Micky came bounding down the stairs, for there was no railing. He expected to see Alison sitting on the couch, but she wasn't there. Light was streaming out of the kitchen so he assumed she was in there. He kept the clothes he was wearing before in a bunch at his side and padded over to the doorway. Alison was sitting at the small table with her head resting in her crossed arms. Her eyes were closed, but he could tell she wasn't sleeping. He crept up and stood behind her. He gently put a hand on her shoulder so he wouldn't startle her. She opened her eyes and sat up lazily. He knelt down and slowly turned the chair around to face him.

"Are you okay?" he asked.
"Yeah. Just a little tired I guess."
"Then how'd you end up in here?" She shrugged and yawned.
"Do you want to go to bed?" he asked. She raised one eyebrow as if to say 'excuse me?'.
"No, really. I mean sleep," he corrected.
"Sure," she sighed.

She got up and trudged out of the kitchen. Micky paused for a few moments and then jumped up. He walked over to the bottom of the stairway and saw Ali at the top. He ran up the steps and impulsively swept her into his arms. He dashed into her bedroom and dropped her on the bed. It took a few seconds for her to recover from the sudden impact. She quickly got to a sitting position.

"What was that for?" she asked.
"Make sure you're awake," he answered.
"I was ready to go to sleep."
"Too bad," he teased.
"Well, if that's the way you feel about it," she said as she picked up a pillow and hurled it at Micky. She had thrown it pretty hard so he stumbled backwards a couple inches.
"Ali! I'm surprised at you!" he exclaimed in fake offense and threw it back at her. She picked it up and stood on the bed.
"That's it!" she cried then sent every pillow on the bed flying at him. He held his arms in front of him, trying to block them with little success.
"Oh that does it!" he declared.

With that, he took a pillow off the pile that was now on the floor and tackled Ali below her knees with it. She stepped backwards, but the softness of the mattress made her lose her balance and fell right back on the bed. He was careful to keep the pillow in his hand and not drop it. Alison scrambled off the bed and over to the pile of pillows without getting hit. She grabbed one for herself and held on to it tightly. She walked over to Micky and gave him a good whack in the head with it to repay his tackle to her before and to see what his next reaction would be. Well, he did just the same to her. In no time, this had progressed into a full-fledged pillow fight. After ten minutes, Micky tired and collapsed on his back on the bed. He let her hit him a few more times with little difficulty on her part. She finally dropped the pillow from her hands and flopped down next to him, both of them giggling. A few minutes later, Ali got to her feet again.

"Okay. Come on. Get up," she ordered.
"Why?"
"Because I gotta fix the pillows and go to bed."
"Fine," he easily gave in,"I have to go to the bathroom anyway." With that, he went out of the room and left Ali to fix the pillows like she said.

Micky returned after some odd minutes to say good-night to Ali and found her on one side of her bed covered up and reading some magazine. As he eyed the neatly pulled back covers next to her, she noticed his presence and put down the magazine. She chuckled to herself softly.

"Come here," she said, patting the empty spot next her. Well, why pass it up? he thought.

He bent over to collect his scattered clothing (the one's he was wearing when he got there, you dodo) and put them under the nightstand that was on his side of the bed. He got into bed and pulled the covers up halfway on himself, too. Alison sat up against the headboard as did Micky. They gazed into each others' eyes for a moment, saying nothing. Then she crawled closer to him and gave him a gentle, lingering kiss on the lips. She backed up only to see him blinking strangely.

"What was that for? Not that I'm disappointed or anything," he spoke softly.
"I dunno," she replied.
"Can I repay you for the kind gesture?"
"Sure."
This is it, he thought. He leaned over the side of the bed and under the nightstand. He pulled a small box out of his pants pocket and sat back up.
"Okay, but first, before anything else, I've got to say something," he blurted out.
"Go ahead." "Well, where do I start?" he asked himself outloud. "You're gorgeous, you're kind, you're caring, and funny. I love you more than anything in the world." He held her left hand. "I love being with you. Anyway, I know we never talked about it or anything, but-" He held open the small box to reveal a ring. "Will you marry me?"

She clasped her hands over her mouth and hesitated for a moment to do anything. He wanted her to at least do something more that indicated she had heard him. She then nodded her head forcefully as her eyes rimmed with water, but didn't cry. She couldn't even choke any words out. But she did sit with a smile on her face while he giddily slid the ring onto the ring finger of her left hand. She finally managed to get out "I love you, too" and threw her arms around his neck. He rubbed her back with her still hugging him. Suddenly, he pushed away.

"Wait a minute. There was supposed to be more, remember?" He grinned ather.

She didn't need any more reminding and just let him do whatever he had in mind- it couldn't be that bad. He took the back of her head in his hand and brought their lips together in a series of gentle kisses. She could feel his hands creeping under the back of her shirt while hers rested on his lower back. Slowly, she retreated and layed down.

"You goin' to sleep?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Okay then. Good night, I guess."
"Good night." No sooner than Alison had rolled onto her side had Micky come closer and slung his arm around her.

She had just started to drift off to sleep when she suddenly felt something on her stomach underneath her shirt. She looked to see what it was- Micky's hand. She was relieved it was just him. As he stroked the already taut skin off her stomach, she placed her hand on top of his and smiled. He was smiling, too because as he stroked her stomach, not to mention the reason why, he felt a slight outward curve. A now physical reminder of their creation. No words were said- they didn't need to be.