Micky's Perspective:

*Beep, Beep*

"Come on, Davy! Get a move on!" Micky shouted from the Monkeemobile as he stood on the seat and honked the horn obnoxiously.

He felt like was going to jump out of his skin waiting for his British counterpart. They were in a hurry and last thing he needed was to miss their cue. Being on time was crucial. This was an all or nothing, win or lose situation. No time must be spared.

One more sharp horn honk. "What the hell is he doing?" the drummer seethed under his breath.

Davy immediately appeared in the doorway of the pad. He stood and raised his hands in the air palms up. "What is this?"

Micky took in the sight of his friend. Davy had on a tuxedo. The bottoms of the pants were halfway up his calf as well as the shirt and jacket having the same appearance on his forearms.

Micky couldn't help but let a little chuckle escape. "Sorry, man. The only size they had left was a youth large and I thought that would fit just fine."

"I look ridiculous! I can't wear this!"

"Listen here. You need to get in this car and we have to get going. Ridiculous outfit or not we don't have time. We are on a time crunch."

Davy slammed the front door and trudged to the car, slumping into the front seat when he got there. "Are we going to make it?"

"Well, since your fashion show cost us a few minutes, we will need to haul ass."

With that Micky peeled out of in front of the pad and screeched down the road.

"Make yourself useful and look at the map. I need guidance," Micky instructed tossing the map over.

"Why are you so edgy? This isn't your normal demeanor," Davy complained, "it's off putting. You didn't even name this mission."

"Um, this is quite a serious matter," Micky said staunchly before softening. "Besides this mission is called Operation No Time: For Pete's Sake the Sequel!"

"That's a long title."

"Just be the navigator," Micky said exasperated.

"No, no you do not want me navigating; I'll accidentally navigate us off a cliff. Metric system, you know."

"Well, you're my best option since Mike and Peter aren't here. We gotta make this work."

"Fine," Davy conceded trying to unfold the map with great difficulty.

"Don't work too hard. I don't want to lose our deposit on that jacket," Micky joked trying to lighten his own mood. He was feeling extremely tense and at the same time restless. A little joking now and then tends to make him feel at ease, but today it was not working.

There was no response from Davy besides a glare that Micky hadn't notice. Micky was now deep thought.

"How did we get here?" he contemplated as he looked on to the long stretch of highway in front of him.


Six months prior

Peter came sprinting through the front door of the pad. "I finally got one!" he announced triumphantly.

"Got one what?" Mike asked making his way over to the excited bassist.

"An answer to my lonely hearts ad," Peter answered beaming.

"So you sent in my ad?" Micky said with a tone of pride.

"No, man. He sent in my ad. I had to adjust the nonsense you had written," Davy contradicted.

"Actually," Peter explained, "this is my ad. I wrote my own ad that was more accurate to me. I hope you aren't mad."

Before Micky or Davy could answer, Mike interjected, "Tell us about the reply you got, Pete."

"Well, the girl that replied is Claire St. Matthew. She said she is a strong willed person and is tired of finding guys that argue with her. She says she's looking for someone more the opposite of herself. She left her phone number at the bottom to the letter."

"What are you waiting for? Call her!" Davy advised.

"Are you sure this is the right move?" Mike asked. "Sounds to me like she's looking for someone to take advantage of."

"Mike, it won't hurt to meet her and for Peter to see for himself," Micky countered.

"Yeah, Mike. I have to at least try," Peter said with a noticeable wane in his previous excitement.

"I know, Shotgun. I just know how understanding and impressionable you are. I would hate for someone to see that as a chance to meet their own needs. Especially since you are looking for love and could get clouded by the opportunity," Mike explained.

"Don't worry. I may play the dummy, but I know what I'm looking for. Besides I'll have you guys to lend an honest opinion," Peter said as he began to dial.

Micky approached Mike, "We'll look out for him. He has a good head on his shoulders. What could go wrong?"


"Micky take the left!" Davy yelled from the passenger's seat.

Micky screeched into a turn nearly causing a four car collision in the process.

"I've been telling you to take the next left for the past two minutes. What are you doing?"

"Sorry, I was just thinking. Is this whole thing my fault?"

Micky couldn't help but feel guilt well up in his gut. The stinging of tears were forming and he didn't know how to stop them. He was the one who stuck up for Peter's decision to call Claire, going against Mike's better judgment. "Damn, why is Mike always right?"

"Almost missing that left and killing us? Yeah I'd say so."

"No, this whole Peter situation."

"Why would it be your fault?"

"I came up with the advertisement idea in the first place and I kept encouraging Peter to call her when Mike had doubts..."

"I am no less to blame than you for those two instances. Ultimately, it seems as though Peter's better judgment was obscured by the thought of potential love. We can't continue to think about 'what ifs,' all we can do is move towards making changes now."

Micky was barely paying attention to Davy's words of wisdom, because he again found himself drifting off into a memory.


One week after the letter arrived

Micky watched as Davy primped and trained Peter for his date.

"Now Peter, be sure to pull the chair out for her and ask her information about herself. Think before you answer questions and for God sakes act like a gentleman."

"I'll do my best Davy."

"So what are the plans for tonight Peter?" Micky inquired.

"We are going to an Italian restaurant. I'm so nervous!"

"Don't be nervous, Mate. You've had the best training in the world and you're ready," Davy said confidently.

Micky rolled his eyes, "A little conceited aren't we, Jones?"

There was a knock at the door and Mike went to answer it. Davy gave Peter a spritz of cologne and pushed him out of the bathroom.

There standing near the front door was strawberry blond woman wearing an expensive looking outfit. Her mouth was a straight line and her eyes were darting around the pad.

"Do I have the wrong place?" she asked impatiently. "Does Peter Tork live here?"

Peter stepped forward. "Claire, I presume, I am Peter."

"Oh, I thought being a popular musician you would live in a more upscale part of town," Claire said crinkling her nose.

"Well, you see we like to live as the commoners do as not to let all the lack of gigs go to our head," Micky joked.

Claire looked at him with disdain. "Who are you?"

"Oh, my apologies. These are my roommates/bandmates/best friends Mike, Micky, and Davy."

"Charmed."

"I don't think she is," Davy whispered to Mike and Micky.

"I guess we should get going. See you guys later."

Mike waved and called after them. "Okay have fun you two!" and shut the door.

"She certainly is a pleasure. Maybe she's just slow to warm. First impressions can't really be everything," Micky tried to convince himself and the others.