Chapter 1: Trying and Failing
Arriving home from their latest gig, Mike, Peter and Shug began lugging in instruments. Micky and Davy were both sleeping over with "friends", so that left the three of them to trying to beat the storm that had been threatening since they left Pop's. Shug began organizing the bandstand, leaving Peter and Mike to carry in the last of the drums just as the downpour started.
"Dibs on the shower," Peter called out, bolting for the bathroom. Mike and Shug wore matching smirks, shaking their heads at what had become a standard Friday night routine for the three of them.
"I'll finish up here if you wanna go on and get your stuff ready to shower next," Mike offered, hanging his coat up on the rack then stepping up to place the drums in their place.
"Nah, I'll help yah finish up first," Shug answered, setting the cymbals up carefully. "It ain't like it's gonna take me but a minute to grab what I need. Sides, I kinda wanted to talk to you a minute about somethin'. "
Mike looked up from where he kneeled, setting the foot petal to Micky's bass drum, curiously. "What's up?"
"It's Pete," Shug began carefully, watching Mike's face closely for reactions as she continued. "I been thinkin'. I mean, I know he likes me. Like likes me."
Mike nodded slowly to show he was listening. "Right, well, all the kissin' ya done over the last year and a half, messin' round with my head, I'm pretty sure I caught that…" he nudged wryly when she failed to go on, receiving a scowl in return.
"I'm thinkin'," Shug went on, wrapping her long arms around herself much as Michael often did. "I…I don't wanna end up alone, Michael. I mean, I want a life where I can come home to someone at night who loves me. I want…well, hell, Michael, you know what I want. It ain't like this isn't something we think about every night. How tired we are of bein' lonely and how hard it is to meet people. You know we ain't never been good at that."
Mike listened closely as he stood, trying hard to see where this was going. He thought he knew, but there was one thing, one very important thing, she hadn't mentioned. "Okay, I get all that…" he answered, hoping she'd think about that one missing piece. "And you're thinkin'?"
"I'm thinkin', I know Pete. And he really likes me." Shug repeated, hoping Mike would put the pieces together for himself.
Mike frowned. He'd got that part, but that wasn't the one he was worried about. "And you're thinkin' you like him?" he finally asked.
Shug shrugged, pushing her raven locks out of her eyes and readjusting the green clip to keep it there. She'd turned the idea over in her mind numerous times over the last year and a half, and found that the idea of her and Pete just felt more and more right the more she considered it. The occasional electricity charged kisses that stole her breathe each time they occurred only seemed to cement that idea. Even so, she wasn't quite ready to say without a doubt that it was something more than just the loneliness she felt coloring their friendship, and so she answered, "I don't know if I do or not. I mean, I like him, but I don't know if I like like him. Maybe? I just don't know. I'm thinkin' maybe I just need to try it on for size and see…"
"It ain't like shopping for a new dress, Shug." Mike interrupted, not pleased at finding his worries might be founded. "I mean, it ain't like you can just put him back if you don't like how he fits, no harm no foul here." He couldn't let anyone, not even her, toy with Peter's heart. He knew only too well the kind of lasting damage something like that could really do and he wasn't about to see it done to Pete.
"I didn't think it was, Michael." Shug replied, scowling. How could he suggest that to her? Her eyes narrowed angrily as she continued, her temper starting to roil deep in her chest, "I care about Pete, you know I do. He's been a good friend to me and…"
"Bein' a friend ain't the same as being someone you're interested in, Shug, and he ain't like the rest of us. He ain't just gonna pick himself up and brush himself off if you hurt him. He's sensitive," Michael was almost pleading with her now. "You can't toy with him and think he's gonna be…"
"Michael Nesmith, how dare you!" Shug exploded as her anger took the wheel and kicked her good sense into the backseat. "I ain't never toyed with anyone in our whole life, and I don't mean to start now. I can't stand here and swear I'm in love with him, but at least I aim to see if it can work. At least I ain't too chickenshit to risk myself again. I ain't Gail, dammit, and he ain't you, and maybe it's time you stop thinkin' every girl out there is gonna do what she did to you."
Mike's breath caught in his throat and Shug could see she'd struck a still raw and painful nerve. "I risk plenty," he said quietly, struggling to keep his own temper in check. "But we can't all go chasin' tail. Someone has to be responsible for things around here. Things like findin' work and payin' bills. Someone has to make sure we're really workin' as hard as we can and puttin' everything we got out there so we ain't missin' opportunities, but don't none o' that have anything to do with you an'..."
"Missin' opportunities! You're not standin' there with a straight face tellin' me about puttin' it all out there and taking every chance when you've got that whole damn drawer full of songs you ain't even shown the guys once, because they're all about her and how she hurt you and how scared you are of risking that again," Shug scoffed, determined not to let him backtrack and imply again that she might be toying with Peter's heart. "that was six damn years ago she hurt you and I can count on one hand how many times you've even honestly tried to talk to a girl since. You talk about Pete not bein' able to move on. Well, hell, Michael, how 'bout you?"
"They're not all about her, and they're not ready," Michael responded, his expression carefully neutral, though his eyes registered the hurt. "You know that. And I don't have time for skirt chasin'. I got things here to take care of and…."
"Bullshit. You got excuses, and that's all you got. Them are some of the best songs you ever wrote, and they're sitting there wasted cause you can't face 'em remindin' you of Gail and what she done, so you hide behind excuses and pretend you're doin' them all some big favor. That's a cop-out and you know it!" She could tell from the look in his dark eyes she'd struck another nerve, just like she knew she would. The thing about sharing all of his memories was that she knew full well the potholes in his own being that could be exploited. She also knew she should stop there before she said something she couldn't ever take back. She wanted to, she really did, but her temper had more control of her just then than her good sense and so she continued furiously, this time hitting below the belt, stressing hard his greatest fear as she did so. "Hell, its fine, if you're so determined to die a lonely old failure living in a rundown beach house, Michael, but don't none of us plan on failin' alongside you. Gramps always told us we was supposed to fight hard to find success, not to wait around for failure to find us. These boys need the leader whose gonna tell'em to take chances and then do it themselves, not the one whose so scared of failure he ain't gonna risk it, and if that ain't you maybe it's time you moved aside and let someone else handle it. Just leave Gramps' timepiece behind when you go, 'cause I remember why he gave it to us, and it sure as hell wasn't so we could sit around counting all the seconds we was wastin' failin' ourselves and everyone else around us 'cause we was too damn chickenshit to take a risk! "
Mike's expression was so carefully schooled as to appear almost made of stone, a brief but quickly hidden flicker of pain and fear the only indication he gave her that her words had hit home. It was enough, though. She'd seen it and knew how deeply she'd wounded him in that moment. His hands balled into fists, and the fierce effort to control his own temper in that instant made him shake. A solitary tear escaped despite his desperate effort at control. That single tear was Shug's undoing. She suddenly couldn't breathe as her mind replayed all of the hateful things she'd just said.
"Oh, God, Michael," Shug whispered, knowing how far across the line she'd strayed. "Please, I'm so sorry…"
He shook his head, not daring to trust his voice in that instant, wheeling quickly on his heel and walking out through the glass door leading to the balcony before, like her, he did something he'd regret. Shug covered her face with her hands, struggling for some measure of composure herself. What had she just done?
Shug knew how bad Gail had hurt them when she'd toyed with his heart, stringing him along, taking him for all she could while pretending she cared just to make some other guy jealous, then laughing in his face at the thought she could have ever been in love with someone like him. She'd been both the first and the last girl he'd ever truly risked his heart on, with the possible exception of April. No, she realized suddenly, walking away from April and agreeing to be just friends had been something of a relief for all he pretended otherwise, as his insecurities had already started chewing their way through his courage, reminding him what happened when you risked so much of yourself on someone else.
Not someone, her inner voice reminded her. Women. And, as if to prove it, here she'd gone and turned on him now, too. Dammit!
She also knew how terrified of failure Mike really was. He'd heard the predictions his whole life that he'd end up dead or in jail by the time he was 21. For all he'd proven that particular prediction wrong, the absolute certainty everyone had that he'd never amount to anything gnawed at him. It still woke him up late at night, she knew, their grim predictions ringing in his ears, the overwhelming fear that they might have been right grasping his heart so tightly he could hardly breathe. The one thing that hurt him more than Gail ever had was that terrifying fear that he was destined to fail.
Give him a minute, she told herself, taking that time to gather herself together, too. Let him breathe a minute, then go apologize again for being the damn fool that you are and beg him to forgive you.
Thunder rumbled loudly, echoing through the old beach house. Lightening struck almost immediately after, casting strange and eerie shadows throughout as the lights flickered. Spying Mike's jacket on the coat hanger she realized he'd be soaked to the skin standing out there on the balcony like that. Sighing, she grabbed it up, thinking to give it over to him and try to make peace, hoping he'd forgive her for all the things she'd said.
She ran out onto the balcony calling his name, only to discover he wasn't there. Quickly she flew down the slippery stairs, stumbling halfway down to straighten up like a newborn cold on shaky legs at the foot of them.
"MICHAEL," She called, looking desperately in all directions. The rain stung as it pelted her skin, obscuring her vision. The thunder rumbled again, drowning out her cries, and the lightning struck closer as she ran around to the front of the beach house. The Monkee mobile was still there. She looked into the garage to find that the dune buggy, bikes, and unicycles were all there as well. She shrugged on his coat reluctantly, running back around and down to the beach, desperately trying to think of someplace he would go.
She ran down to the ragged patch of grass where he'd found her after they'd fought once before, on another stormy night, but there was no sign of him. She ran down a little further to the outcropping of rocks where they'd talked few weeks later, but he wasn't there, either. She ran her hands through drenched and tangled hair, fighting back the panic that began to rise within her.
What had she done?
She ran back to the beach house, hoping against hope that he'd already returned. Maneuvering carefully up the rain slicked stairs, she rehearsed in her head what she'd say to him if she found him. Bursting back into the pad, she almost slipped across the slick floor, only managing to keep her feet beneath her when two strong arms wrapped around her, keeping her upright.
"Hey, Shug, what were you doing out in the rain?' Peter asked, carefully righting her. One look into her eyes told him something was terribly wrong. It was then that he realized who else was missing.
Tears coursed down her cheeks, and a sob escaped as she pulled away from him. "Pete…please tell me he's come back."
Peter hurried upstairs to check their room and grab another towel out of the linen closet. He groaned when he found the room empty, knowing that something had to have gone terribly wrong. "Here," he said, approaching Shug. "Let's get you dry, okay? Then we'll figure out where he might have gone."
Shug sat on the edge of the bandstand and buried her face in her hands. "I already looked everywhere I can think he mighta gone." She admitted pitifully. "He just…dammit, I knew, I KNEW I was going too far, but I couldn't seem to stop myself. I was just so….so MAD." She raised her tearstained face to look helplessly up at Peter. "I hurt him worse than I ever…" she shook her head and whispered, "He's not gonna forgive me this time." Another strangled sob escaped as she admitted, "Hell, I wouldn't forgive me, either. What the hell was I thinkin'?"
"Tell me what happened," Peter urged, sitting beside her and wrapping the towel around her soaked and shivering frame before drawing her into his arms. Slowly and hesitantly she leaned into his embrace and sobbed out the whole story.
"Oh," Peter breathed, initially uncertain how else to reply. "You were thinking you might want to…um…really?" He realized, looking into her hopeful chocolate brown eyes, that might not be the part of her story she was most focused on, for all it had started their current mess. They tried for a few moments to come up with anywhere else Michael might have walked off to, but both came up blank. "Don't worry, Shug," he said at last, his voice low and calming. "He'll come back. You know Mike. He always comes back."
Shug hesitated a moment, considering that statement, then nodded. True. Michael wouldn't just leave them, knowing how much they needed him. Who else was going to take care of things around here? Who was going to make sure that they rehearsed as they should, and find them auditions, and make sure that everything was taken care of around here?
"You're soaked to the skin," Peter said then, clearing his throat nervously as he moved to take Mike's sopping wet coat from her, trying not to think of what it meant for his friend, walking around in the still raging storm, that his coat was still here at home. "Let's get you out of these wet clothes and warmed up before you get sick, okay?"
Shug nodded, only just realizing how cold she really was. She rose with Peter, her eyes not leaving his. He averted his gaze abruptly. Looking down, Shug realized why. The soft peach colored button up shirt she wore was drenched to the point of being see-through and clung to her every curve, leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination at all.
You wanted to try it on, something inside herself reminded her, having caught the look in Peter's eyes before he'd turned his them away. Reaching out a shaking hand, she turned his face back to her, locking eyes with him again.
Peter took her hands and enveloped them in his own. "They're frozen," he said unnecessarily.
Shug nodded, then drew his hands toward the buttons on her shirt. She began undoing them one at a time, color rising in her cheeks. After a moment, Peter began helping her with them, drawing her closer as he drew the sodden shirt from her shoulders, dropping it on the floor and pressing his lips to her icy collar bone. His arms went around her, holding her tightly in a warm embrace for a moment before her hand reached back and pressed his to the clasp of her bra. He kissed her tenderly upon the lips as he obediently unfastened it then ran his warm hands up and down her back. She pushed back from him a moment, and Peter's gaze faltered. Smiling, Shug dropped the newly unclasped garment atop the shirt on the floor before moving Peter's hands to the waistband of her jeans. She swooped in for another kiss, deepening it as she proceeded to make short work of his robe, knowing he hadn't yet gone in to dress for bed, meaning that there'd be nothing beneath it but a quickly removed towel. Her stomach fluttered as she saw him for the first time in all his splendor, marveling at how truly beautiful he was. She gasped, unable to believe the sensations that tore through her as he began planting a trail of carefully placed kisses down her chest and stomach, simultaneously running his hands down her pale ivory legs, coaxing them out of the jeans so that they too could be discarded. He ran his hands back up them as he stood, his eyes taking in every inch of her. Once again his arms drew her to him, his hands tangling in her thick raven waves as his mouth closed hungrily upon hers. All doubts fled as Shug returned his kisses, deepening them as her hands found her way into his sandy locks. Peter drew her hips to his, letting her feel how desperate his need had grown.
"Be sure," Peter cautioned, his voice husky with desire.
Shug let her hands slide languidly down his back to grip his hips, pulling his thick and swollen member against her, allowing her hips to move firmly into his. "I'm sure," she assured him, her own voice no less heavy-laden.
Peter led her to his room without further question or comment, his hands exploring every inch of her as he backed her slowly and carefully toward his bed the moment his door had closed. He drew her bottom lip into his mouth, sucking it gently as he lowered her back carefully, positioning himself between her mile long legs.
Slowly and deliberately, Peter again trailed kisses down her neck and chest, pausing to draw a hand up to her breast, pebbling one nipple between his fingertips as his tongue traced slow and languid circles around the other. Shug arched her back, moaning softly as the unfamiliar sensations seemed to course down her spine, sparking heat within her stomach and groin. Peter smiled even as he continued his ministrations, his free hand running slowly up the inside of her thigh, pausing a moment before reaching its target, giving Shug the opportunity to change her mind and move his hand if she chose to, though he desperately hoped she wouldn't. As if in answer to his unspoken question, Shug shifted slightly, hooking both of those endlessly long legs around his narrow hips and drawing him closer, allowing him to feel the heat that emanated from her.
"Oh god," Peter breathed as his erection throbbed against her, the desire to bury himself to the hit within the inviting warmth and wetness he felt there driving him to distraction, threatening to undo him then and there. He moved his hand to her then, fingering her with the same assuredness he fingered his bass, smiling as she unraveled beneath him. "That's it," he encouraged her as he worked his fingers faster, finding quickly what he'd been seeking, his smile broadening as she bucked against his hand. He trailed kisses down her stomach once again, his mouth soon taking over the task his fingers had been set to moments before. His hands remained on the inside of her thighs, holding her open to him, his tongue moving in tantalizingly slow circles before flicking back and forth as he kissed and suckled at her swollen clit. He continued even as her hips bucked wildly, her cries growing louder as she neared climax. Only once she'd come for him did he rise from where he knelt there between her legs raising them and positioning himself carefully at her entrance.
Shug wrapped her legs around him again and drew him to her and within her, inhaling sharply against his shoulder to keep from crying out as he broke through her barrier. She held him to her, buried to the hilt within her for a moment as her body adjusted to him. After a moment, she nodded breathlessly. Slowly, Peter rocked within her, the incredible tightness gripping him in a way he'd never experienced from any other girl, threatening to cause him to shoot too quickly. Once he was certain she'd acclimated to his girth, he drew out until only the very tip remained within her, raising her legs to his shoulders and positioning himself carefully before swiftly burying himself within her again.
"SWEETMARYMOTHERO'GOD!" Shug cried out as Peter brushed against that fabled spot most men could never find, sending delicious sparks flooding through her.
Peter smiled brightly, looking down into her eyes as he began moving slowly in and out, finding that spot again and again, and reveling in her cries. His hair stuck damply to his forehead as he worked to contain his release until she once again neared her own. Only then did he increase the pace, hardly daring to believe when Shug's hips rose to meet him thrust for thrust, driving both into a maddening frenzy. Within moments both cried out, her legs tightening around him as he exploded, his seed shooting deep within her.
They laid there tangled together for several long moments, cuddling and catching their breath, when the sound of the front door closing caused both to jump.
"Oh God…if Michael finds us like…" she didn't need to go any further as Peter's eyes grew wide, indicating he understood. He jumped up, tossing her the first thing his hands closed on in his drawer before drawing a pair of gray sweat pants up and over his hips and dashing out of the room.
"Mike," He called, looking around for the previously missing guitarist.
Shug stepped out of the room in Peter's fuzzy bunny pajamas, her breathe hitching in her throat. "No…" she whispered, darting for the stairs. "No no NO."
"Shug, what is it?" Peter asked before he noticed it too. First, the clothes they'd left strewn around the room had been picked up and the puddles dried. Second, the blonde twelve string Gretch guitar that usually sat proudly upon the bandstand, Mike's pride and joy, was gone. Peter shook his head, then dashed up the stairs in Shug's wake, only to find her kneeling next to her bed, sobbing. A stack of songs, hand written and notated in Mike's distinctive scrawl sat there upon her pillow, along with Mike's old, battered wrist watch he'd received from their grandfather before he'd passed on, the missing blonde, and a note that read simply:
"You're right. Take care of them.
Mike"
( tbc)