AN: I've been meaning to do a Monkee fic for a while. (Well techinically I've already done one. I have an account that my friend and I write on, so check us out (SwimmingInADuck)) So, umm I'm a teenager and I own The Monkees... HAHAHAHA GOOD ONE! Anyway, enjoy!
The Monkees were like brothers. Mike being the responsible one, Micky the goofball, Davy the lover, and Peter the not-so-dumb dummy. Most people don't know that, while it may seem silly, they, of course, had nicknames for each other. And I think that it's time the nicknames and their backstories were brought to light...
Davy (aka Frito):
"Don't stay up for me. I have a date." Davy yelled up the stairs at his flat-mates
"What's this one's name, Davy?" Micky responded
Before the Brit could respond Peter interjected "Why would you want to date a girl with same name as you Davy?" The blonde boy stuck his head out of the bedroom and had a very questioning look on his face.
"How'd she get that name anyway?" Mike's voice piped up from the upstairs
"Why would a young, poor, innocent girl's parents name her something as horrid and scandalous as "Davy?" Micky came stumbling out of the bedroom and staggered down a few of the steps.
"You know Davy, you should talk to her about changing her name. If she comes back here, it will be hard to talk to you both." Peter was genuinely confused on the matter, and looked really worried.
Mike was the next to emerge from the upstairs room. "You know Pete, I think it'll be okay. If this Davy chick is anything like the other thousand Davy has fallen in love with, she'll be gone soon enough. No offense to you Davy, of course."
"Oh..." Peter's face got a little lighter "Well, that's good. Hey Davy, have a good time." Peter smiled and went back to his book.
Mike walked down the spiral staircase and put his arm around Davy "Hey man, you'll have a great time with Davy. Just have a nice dinner, and try not to get each other too confused." The older man patted Davy on the shoulder a little too hard and the boys finally let the Brit get out of the door.
Harriet walked in to El Caballero and looked around for her dreamy date. She saw him sitting in a little romantic corner with a candle in the middle of the table. She ran her hand through her very blonde hair and walked over to Davy.
"Hi.." She said in a breathy voice, stars beginning to twinkle in her eyes
"Hello Henrietta." Davy responded.
XxXxXx
Davy and Henrietta had a nice dinner. After they had paid, Davy thought that he'd take Harriet back to the flat so they could hang around for a little longer.
But Davy had forgotten about his conversation with the boys earlier that evening. When he walked into the door, Peter was in the kitchen attempting to make soup, Mike was fooling on his guitar, and Micky was standing on the table, banging on the ceiling.
"Fellas!" Davy yelled over the noise. All three boys turned their attention to their short friend.
"Look! It's Davy!" Peter yelled
"And Davy!" Micky cried
The Monkees came over to greet their friend and his newest girl.
"Hi Davy, hi Davy." Mike shook Henrietta's hand. The poor girl looked utterly confused as the tall Texan shook her hand.
"Don't worry, Henrietta. They do this to everyone I bring over, I'm sorry. Here, we can go get some tea if you'd like." Davy glared at the three other boys.
He and Harriet went into the kitchen and Davy put the water on to boil. They went and sat down, nearly landing on Peter and Mr. Schneider who were having a very in-depth conversation.
"Oh, hi Davy and Davy. Want to sit with us? Mr. Schneider and I were just talking about what our society has come to. It's very interesting." Peter grinned
"Nah, Pete, we're fine." Davy responded
"DAVY!" Mike yelled from the stairs
"DAVY!" Micky yelled, apparently directing it at the one that Mike wasn't
"What?" Davy responded
"No, not you! Davy." Micky shouted
"You know what," Peter said "I think this is all too confusing. Maybe we should call Davy something else."
Henrietta's face was bright red, and she looked close to tears. "Yes! My name is Henrietta!"
"No, no, not you dear," Mike smiled "Davy."
Micky started doing the Groucho Marx walk throughout the house looking for something to call the short British man. He went through the living room, grumbling to himself and saying "no" or "maybe." He made his way into the tiny kitchen, looked questioningly at the telephone in the sink, and then grabbed a bag of Fritos and began to snack.
"Hey!" He yelled, spraying little chip bits everywhere "We can call him Frito!"
Mike wiped his face, as if he had gotten Fritos on him, and Peter grinned.
AN: There ya go! Davy got a nickname! Please review!