Author's Note: For me, this is a really emotional chapter, as lots of sadness, anger, and just plain weirdness (cough cough ANYA) goes on. Just a fore-warning. (Is that how you spell that?)

Mike is a good listener. He didn't interrupt me, or say I was crazy, or anything like that. I was happy he didn't do that.

"So, what you're saying is, you and your friends walked into a store and ended up here?" He asked.

"Yeah, that's it. And we're from 2010…." I clarified.

"So you're not born yet."

"Yeah…" I looked out onto the water. The moon's reflection shone brightly on the small waves.

Mike got up suddenly and kicked some rocks. "Why does it have to be the first girl I meet who I fall in love with for real isn't even born yet?" he yelled.

I stared up at him. I hadn't seen Mike angry…. Ever. Maybe there was a Monkees episode I missed that had him throwing a fit, but if there was, I hadn't seen it.

I yearned for something to say, something to let him know I was there and that I cared for him. Unfortunately, I thought of nothing.

Finally Mike calmed down a little. He turned to me, grabbed my hand, and pulled me up. He hugged me to him hard.

"I don't want to lose you," he whispered, "You're the only girl I've met so far that I wanted to be with not just because she was pretty and wanted to kiss me."

It was hard to swallow. Mike Nesmith… In love with ME? How is this possible? I thought as I hugged back.

"Michael," I called him by his full name, "You're the first guy who hasn't tried to use me."

He kissed my hair and then let go of me.

"When do you guys plan on telling the others?" he asked, indicating about the time traveling thing.

"Um…"

"You thought you could keep this a secret, didn't you?"

"Yeah."

He sighed and grabbed my hand, pulling me back to the pad.

"Do you want me to keep this a secret or are y'all gonna tell the rest of the guys?" he asked as we walked through the dark to the pad.

I thought for a moment, and then decided we might as well tell them that we were from the future and a different dimension, even, so to speak. I mean, in me, Kara, Veronica, and Anya's world, "The Monkees" was simply a really old TV show. Here, the Monkees were a real rock band, and not just on some TV show.

"Well?" Mike asked again, breaking me from my thinking.

"I'm going to tell the girls that we have to tell the rest of the Monkees the truth," I said with an unintentional sigh.

I think Mike nodded, though I wasn't really sure. I did notice, however, he still had his hat on. I giggled softly at that.

We got to the pad, and I let go of Mike's hand. I noticed Davy and Kara had left the patio and gone inside.

I was about to open the door when Mike put his hand on my shoulder. I turned my head to look back at him.

He leaned in and kissed me quickly. Then he pushed the door open and nudged me into the pad. My cheeks had quickly gotten splotches of red across the cheekbones again, earning me giggles from Kara and Anya.

I stuck my tongue out as I walked over to them. Veronica was with them, so it was easy for me to tell them all that we had to let the cat outta the bag.

"Why do we have to tell them now? Why not later?" Kara whispered.

"Kara, you know that you and Veronica will just keep saying that for however long we're here. We might as well tell 'em now," I replied.

Anya nodded in agreement with me. Luckily I had caught her in a rare calm moment and was able to talk without someone jumping up and down every four seconds.

"How do we tell them, though?" Veronica asked, twisting a piece of her short hair around her finger.

I pondered for a second. Then, Anya spoke up.

"Why don't we just go tell them individually? I mean, Kara could tell Davy, I could tell peter, and Veronica could tell Micky." She folded her arms across her chest and whipped her blonde hair around her face.

We nodded. That made sense, and it was simple enough.

It was decided then. Anya, Veronica, and Kara went over to the three Monkees that didn't know where we were from and started talking to them.

I looked around for Mike. He wasn't in the room at the moment, so I wandered over to the big window to my left.

I closed my eyes and pictured my house, my fat cat, Cecil, my bed, my window seat, and everything else I was used to.

Then the bad images flooded my mind. Pictures of my mom and dad fighting again, certain boys at school making fun of my hair color, all that stuff that I was happy to leave behind crossed my mind numerous times before I felt someone tap my shoulder.

I opened my eyes and whirled around, hoping to see Mike standing behind me, but instead seeing everyone in the pad plus Mike behind me.

Micky, Davy, and Peter almost tackled me to the floor as the questions flew at me.

"How'd you do it?"

"Do you seriously hate the 60s?"

"You guys can't be from 2010… Could you? Are you?"

"Are you aliens? Aliens are scary!"

Mike pushed the boys away and stepped in between me and them.

"Why are you asking her all this?" he demanded.

"The girls told us she could tell us better. And they all said she hates the 60s." The three Monkees said in unison.

I sighed, shot an evil glance at Kara, Anya, and Veronica, and then took a deep breath. I stepped next to Mike and began.

"It's true. We're from the future, another dimension, actually, where the Monkees are just an old TV show that came on in the 1960s. Kara, Veronica, Anya and I walked into a store and then ended up on the beach, were Peter met us, and Anya fainted…" I shot her a look and almost got attacked by her. However, Mike shoved her back and Peter caught her as she almost fell over.

"Anyways, that's basically all that happened and how we got here. Um, any questions?"

Peter raised his hand. I rolled my eyes and said, "I mean questions that have something to do with the current subject."

"This question does go along with the whole future thing!"

"What is it?"

"Is there still gonna be ice cream and corn flakes in the future?" he asked, giving me the puppy-dog eyes.

"Yes, Peter, there will be ice cream in the future."

He grinned. "Good."

"Any other questions?"

"Do you really hate the 1960s?" Micky asked.

I drew in a deep breath. "Well, the 60s aren't really my favorite decade… I don't hate everything in the 60s, though."

Now all four Monkees looked at me like I was crazy. "How can you not like the 60s?"

"Political views. I don't exactly like the presidents that came into office during this decade," I replied. I didn't list the names of the presidents, though. It would screw up the past and future is
the Monkees knew who was going to be elected.

"Is that all?" Davy asked.

"No. The Vietnam war is a big part of why I hate the 60s…"

The girls bit their lips and gave me sympathetic looks. They knew what was coming…

"Exactly why do you hate the Vietnam War?" Peter asked. "Not that I like war. I don't like fighting."

"My dad's half Vietnamese. He was born in 1960, and when he started school no one really liked him because of the fact that he was half Vietnamese."

Everyone was silent as I looked at the floor.

I heard feet shuffling away as everyone but Mike and Anya went off to different parts of the room.

I dropped onto the couch and sighed. Anya and Mike did the same.

"Bella, it'll be ok," Anya said.

"Yeah, shotgun. Don't worry. I bet that segregation of races will stop… Wait, hasn't it already stopped?" Mike said.

"It's stopped pretty much for races in my time, but I don't like the fact that my dad had to go through all that…" I felt tears roll down my cheeks. I wiped them away in vain, as they kept tumbling out of my eyes silently.

Anya looked up at Mike. "Bella's mom died in child birth with her, and her dad's the only one that's been there to care for her for most of her life," she explained.

Mike rubbed my back soothingly as the tears finally subsided. I cupped my face in my hands and sighed.

"I suppose I shouldn't be too upset about it," I mumbled, barely loud enough for the two on either side of me to hear.

"Well, you should sort of be upset, I mean, I'd be upset if someone said something about my parents," said Mike.

"Me too. But really, Bella, this happened, like, 35 years ago or whatever from our time, so you shouldn't worry about it now," Anya said.

I blinked, realizing the truth in what they said.

Standing up, I said, "You know what? You're right, Mike. I should be upset… And Anya, you're right too. I should just put it all behind me and get on with life."

Mike stood up to. He pulled me close, saying, "That's the spirit, shotgun."

Anya grinned and raised an eyebrow at him. Then, Peter called her and she was up, bouncing away.

A few minutes later, she called out, "Hey! Peter needs y'all boys!"

Mike shrugged at me and went over to Peter with the other Monkees.

Anya and the other girls walked over to me.

"I asked Peter if he and the band would play a few songs," Anya announced.

"I hope they say yes!" Veronica squealed.

I looked over at the boys. They had moved over to their instruments.

"There's your answer," I said, pointing to the boys.

We all went over to watch them play.

This had been a great day, I thought as they started playing "Not Your Stepping Stone".