Author's Notes:

So I have been reading fanfiction in other fandoms for about 17 years (ah, crazy!), but I have never written anything! I was a Monkees fan as a kid in the 90's, but didn't discover their online presence until earlier this year. I have read just about everything I could find, then I realized, I'm going to have to bite the bullet and try to write something. I'll do anything to help build up the fandom! I am super new, and trying my best, so constructive feedback is appreciated!

I want to thank StarCollector88, because I told her about this idea back in April when we first started talking, and she has been hearing about me talk about writing it since then. She has the patience of a saint!

This story takes place in 1963-4, and the ages are the same as real life. This is the introduction to the universe I'm trying to create for my other story ideas, so I'm sorry there is a lot of background. Much of Davy's past is inspired by his memoir, "They made a Monkee Out of Me", but some of it was embellished by me. I'm kind of mixing the show-verse with real life, and adding some details from my own research on the time period. If you have questions about what's real and what's not, just ask! I will include some sources in my note at the end.

Davy cringed as his sleep was disturbed by the sun light streaming through his bedroom window. He squinted and peaked to his left, confirming his suspicions when he saw the empty bed. The bed belonged to Peter, one of the three chaps he had been sharing a flat with for the last few months. It wasn't unusual for the quiet musician to be up before him, but Davy would be giving him a piece of his mind later about lifting the window shade when he got ready so early in the morning. The Englishman was not ready to wake up yet, so he huffed and buried his face into his favorite pillow. He would never tell his new roommates that he had carried the thing everywhere with him until he was five years old, or that he still slept with it. Even though he gave Peter a hard time for sleeping with his favorite teddy bear, he knew his own sleep was better with his security pillow*. It was made for him by his mother, and he would not be giving it up anytime soon! Thinking of his mother caused a wave of sadness to wash over him. Even though it had been 4 years since she passed away, the pain was still fresh. Especially today, his 18th birthday.

Davy sighed and rolled onto his back, blinking rapidly to keep the tears that had suddenly formed in his big brown eyes from falling. He stared up at the ceiling, the idea of going back to sleep out of the question now. His mind had turned to memories of the past, memories that were unfortunately beginning to fade with each passing year. He knew his Mum had been sick for most of his child hood, though she had tried to hide the severity of her illness. He knew now that much of the money his father earned went to her medical and surgical bills. Despite this, his family had lived happily together in their tiny two-bedroom house, though he was grateful that he didn't have to share a bedroom with his three sisters any longer! Living in England after the second world war meant that time were tough, especially for a family of 6 bogged down with debt. National rationing was going on for most of his childhood, with short supplies of sugar, butter, cheese, margarine, cooking fat, bacon, meat and tea, and it made for a very bland and limited diet. Except for on his birthday. Somehow, every year on December 30th, his mother managed to put together the most divine breakfast for him, even as her health was deteriorating. And since his usual breakfast consisted of flavorless porridge, his mother's birthday creations were a highlight he looked forward to every year. He still didn't know how she did it, but even without access to a large grocery store, or a way to freeze things, she still managed to get ingredients that were not even in season. His mouth started watering just thinking about her last creation. Eggs with cheese, bacon and even tomatoes (how did she manage to find tomatoes in December?). He felt like he could almost smell it! He even got his own personal pot of tea for the occasion, with unlimited access to the sugar bowl. Thinking of tea killed the last of his resolve to spend the day lazing in his room feeling sorry for himself. Davy pulled off his covers and rolled out of bed. Tea always makes things better!

The door to the downstairs bedroom creaked open, and Davy emerged, yawning as he stretched his arms and tried to wake up his sluggish body. Suddenly, he stopped and froze with his arms still poised in midair. He blinked a few times, then started rubbing his eyes with his fists, in case his sleep heavy lids were causing him to see things. He looked around again, but nothing in the kitchen had changed, his eyes were not playing tricks on him. But how…

Stretched across the kitchen and covering his favorite circus poster was a giant banner that read HAPpY BIRTHDAY. It was obviously handmade if the paint splatters, smears and tiny squeezed in "p" were anything to go by. In fact, he had a few guesses at who the main artist was. Looking around the rest of the room, he noticed there were streamers and balloons everywhere, he hadn't even realized they owned such festive decorations! He could just imagine the fun Micky must have had getting to some of the hard to reach places. Finally, his eyes were drawn to the kitchen table, and what he saw made him take a step back and gasp. He hadn't been imagining the breakfast smells. A chair at the table looked ready to float away with all of the balloons tied to it, and the place setting in front of it was arranged with a feast fit for a king. Hot cakes with fresh fruit, bacon, breakfast potatoes, fresh-squeezed orange juice … he couldn't believe it. It wasn't perfect- his roommates weren't exactly known for their prowess in the kitchen. Looking closer, he noticed the hotcakes were all different shapes and sizes, the bacon looked a lot crispier than he was used to, and the counters were covered in flour and orange peels. The hard work and care that went into the surprise was obvious. He was getting choked up, the guys had gone to so much trouble! But how had they known?

Davy had met Micky, Peter and Mike over the summer, and had moved into the pad in August. He still could not believe his luck, as he had been days from moving back to England. He couldn't help but reminisce about what brought him to that point, as the journey had started 4 years ago today. His mother had died on his 14th birthday, which brought a tragic reminder to what should have been a happy day. The months following her death had been an extremely difficult time for him and his family. He had stayed home for his dad and to finish the school year, but it was hard for him to remain there. He couldn't deal with the familiarity of everything going on like it always had, but covered in the shroud created by his lovely mother's absence. He couldn't concentrate at school and failed his placement exams in the spring. He would be going to the "slow" school the next year, so it seemed pointless to waste any more time on educational pursuits. When the summer came, he convinced his father to allow him to move almost 200 miles away to Newmarket, so that he could pursue a career as a jockey. He spent a year as an apprentice, waking up before dawn, riding and training in the rain and snow. He missed his family something awful, but at least he had his Grandfather in nearby Cambridge. Davy didn't think he would have survived without the weekends he spent with him. It was thanks to his Grandfather that he had gotten his first break as an entertainer. He had always enjoyed singing, acting and the like, but he never thought of making a career of it. But apprentices were not allowed to earn money, so he was looking for a way to support himself instead of depending on his Grandfather or asking his father for help. So when his Grandfather told him about the first offer of an audition for a play, where he would be payed to do two things he loved, he jumped at the chance. He and his grandfather made the two-hour trek to London, and he won a role in a production of Peter Pan. He had been trying for the lead, but for a first audition, the part of Michael wasn't so bad! The play was a moderate success, so when the offer to be a member of a traveling troupe in America came, he was pleasantly surprised. He hated to move so far from his family, especially while everyone was still mourning his mother, but if he could earn enough money to send some back to his father, wouldn't that be something? His father's health had been declining, but buried under mountains of medical debt, he couldn't afford to stop working. So with a heavy but hopeful heart, Davy said goodbye to his family and moved across the pond.

Since Davy was only 16, he was not allowed to enter the states with a work visa unless a parent or guardian was with him. His father wasn't well enough to travel, and his Grandfather was now caring for his youngest sister Linda, so one of the show's producer had to sign as his guardian. He really enjoyed the life of a travelling entertainer; though he missed his family, he felt like it was good for him to leave England. He stayed with one of the Lost Boys and his mother, who was travelling with them, which helped keep expenses low. He was able to send the majority of his earnings back to his father.

The year he spent with the production was one of the best of his life- he felt like he found his calling, to entertain a live audience. Sadly, all good things must come to an end eventually. Davy (finally!) had his much anticipated growth spurt, and while he could pull off young Michael when he was still 4'5", it was harder now at 17 and a whopping 4'11". And so, when the show finished it's run at the Malibu Playhouse in June, it moved on and Davy stayed. He was an independent young man now, and he was confident that he could make his way on the West Coast after being on his own for so long. Besides, he loved the sunny weather and the beach, and maybe he would be discovered by some big shot Hollywood agent! Unfortunately, there was a kink in his big plans. Davy's work visa had expired, and he was still under 18, so he couldn't legally renew it himself. Applying for a normal job was impossible, and he was still too young to be allowed inside any bars or clubs where he could earn tips by singing. By July, his money was running out, and he had resorted to singing and holding out his hat on the street. He was able to occasionally perform away from the heat of the sun at a local coffee shop when the friendly, if a bit spacey, barista was working. But he'd already been yelled at by the owner for panhandling, so he carefully timed his visits. It was when the barista caught him pocketing the leftover muffin from a recently vacated table that everything finally came to a head. The blond asked him if he was hungry, and when his empty stomach growled in reply, he was promptly invited over for dinner. That night he was introduced to the disaster that was cream of root beer soup, as well as the barista's friends, Mike and Micky. He learned they were all musicians and were in a band called The Three Monkees. Davy liked the name, and he had to admit, and they had a pretty clever logo with the Hear no Evil, See no Evil and Speak no Evil monkeys. Especially after Peter explained that the monkey pulling a wool hat over his eyes was Mike, the monkey with his mouth wide open as huge musical notes came out and his paws over his ears was Micky, and the Monkee playing guitar with no mic and tape over his mouth was Peter. Davy did not believe that someone with such a pleasant speaking voice could be a bad singer, though; especially someone as sweet as Peter.

The next day, when Davy showed up at the coffee shop to sing, Peter excitedly tried to wave at his new friend and spilled coffee all over the customer he was serving. Unfortunately, the owner was returning from an errand early and saw the whole thing. Peter was immediately fired, and both of them were kicked out the front door. Davy felt terrible, he had lost Peter his job! He knew the group was struggling to make rent, even with their side jobs. But Peter reassured him that he could make it up to them. He had told Mike and Micky what a natural showman Davy was, and they agreed to have him audition for the group. If he was a good fit, it could solve all their problems! Davy's nerves were starting to get the best of him as they walked to the pad. He didn't play any instruments, but Peter tried to calm him down by insisting that he could play the tambourine and maracas until the blond could teach him something else. When they arrived at the beach house, Davy sang like his life depended on it, and Mike, Micky and Peter loved his version of Moon River. After a quick Monkee huddle, and a few bizarre costume changes (Davy wondered how they had the money for judges' wigs and robes?) it was agreed that the Three Monkees would become The Monkees, and that Davy would be their newest band member and roommate. Peter even agreed to sign Davy's visa renewal, since he had turned 21 in February, the legal age of majority.

Davy knew for a fact he hadn't mentioned his birthday at that point, just that he was only 17. He couldn't think of any other occasion when it had come up since. Which brought him back to his question, how did they know? Maybe one of his family members had called when he was out and mentioned it? He supposed it didn't matter. What was important was that the guys had taken him in when he was desperate, changed their band name and logo to include him, even technically became his guardian! They had done so much for him in the few months he had known them, and now this?

Davy wasn't too proud to admit that a few happy tears slid free as he started looking around. Where were his friends, anyway? Was he spoiling the surprise? There weren't a lot of places to hide with their sparse furniture, but he would think they would have jumped out by now so they could celebrate and eat together. After checking the bathroom and the closet with no luck, he decided to sit down at the table and see how this played out. Since moving to America, Corn Flakes had become his cheap and easy breakfast staple. He didn't think he had seen such a spread since the last time him mother had cooked a birthday breakfast for him! He couldn't wait to tell his friends how much this meant to him. His mouth was watering as he sat and stared at all of the delicious looking food on the plate in front of him. He thought about trying of sip of the orange juice, but quickly dismissed that idea as he remembered The Goldfish Incident that occurred the last time Peter was in charge of making juice. Maybe he'd double check that Mike had been supervising before trying that. He looked back at the food. The unusual bacon smelled especially good. Maybe the others wouldn't notice if he tried just a nibble. Decision made, he grabbed a small piece. As he started to take a bite of the crispy breakfast meat, the upstairs bedroom door swung open.

"DAVY!"

Author's Notes

*Davy and his security pillow: articles/1967/03/16/my-life-story-in-pictures-by-davy-jones
A few comments about Davy's history:
-His mother actually died on his sister Beryl's 20th birthday, which I found really sad. For the purpose of this story, I switched it to Davy's birthday
-The fact about failing his exams is true, and apparently he had to do a follow-up live exam as well. He was afraid he and the other 'dumb' kids were being gathered on a bus to be kidnapped (I would recommend listening to his autobiography on Audible, listening to him tell his stories is great!)
-The first play Davy was in was Peter Pan, but I decided he could only have moderate success for this story to work, so I'm skipping Oliver! and Pickwick Papers
-His grandfather here is based on his grandfather in the show
-I'm curious how Davy did immigrate to the US. I believe he became a permanent resident, which is how he was drafted, but from my research, children under 18 were on an exclusion list without their parents during this time. I'm sure there were loopholes, but that fact works with my story. We're going with more lax times, and no internet, so they let any yahoo sign as a guardian ?
-Davy states he was 4'5" at 14-15, and I'm just assuming he wasn't quite full grown at 17, so I randomly made him 4'11"
I keep mentioning the bacon because when I've gone overseas and excitedly order bacon, I'm always super disappointed because American bacon is very different. I thought it would be fun to blow Davy's mind with it.