Jeff Brownstone sat hunched over on his bed, gripping the back of his head and neck with his large hands. He was a very big and muscular guy, with close-cropped hair, much the opposite of the style, and green eyes like his sister, Abigail. He, however, was nothing like his sister. Jeff was a tough, ruthless man who had just lost a personal possession. His girlfriend, Cara Lovelace. When the relationship started, it was fine. Nothing bad happened, until Cara decided that she wanted to have a brain of her own. That was when things went downhill. Jeff had finally found someone who could do his bidding—make his food, fold his clothes, give him all the physical time and sex he wanted. He knew how to set her straight when she didn't want to do anything; a little smack here and there would make her think straight. He wanted her all to himself, for his personal trophy on his arm, and with her gone, who knew what that stupid little slut was up to or on top of.
Jeff brought his hands down and clenched his fists. He would keep looking for Cara, no matter how long it took or what he had to destroy to get to her.
Quietly, Cara crept down the stairs early in the morning, already dressed in a pair of light blue jeans and a dark green babydoll style top. Yesterday, she had wanted to cook breakfast as a thank-you to the guys for taking her in, but got distracted with the clothes situation. So, naturally, she figured she'd make something this morning. Maybe some pancakes…
Once she got into the kitchen, started to search around in the fridge and pantry. There wasn't much inside, but she found what she needed in moments. As she was taking mixing bowls out of the drawer, she turned around and saw something that made her gasp and clutch her chest for about two seconds, before she realized it was just a fat, really scary-looking redheaded dummy with glasses…why the guys kept that think in their kitchen, she'd never know. Brushing off her shock, she went back to work.
Meanwhile, upstairs, Peter was awake and lying in bed, thinking. He saw how smooth Davy was with Abigail…why couldn't he be the same with Cara? Granted, Davy failed miserably with Cara, but still. Davy knew all the little tricks and Peter didn't know squat. He had a feeling that Cara might like him a little, but he couldn't be too sure. He wondered if Davy would mind if he asked him for some advice. But then he'd start acting like Davy…Peter knew that Cara would never take him if he started acting like a Casanova himself. But just because he asked Davy for help didn't mean he had to act exactly like him…
Clad in orange pajamas with a rather large bunny on the front and a matching nightcap, got up out of bed and walked down the hall to Davy's room. When he got to his door, he stopped to think twice, but then realized that if he did he'd never get around to asking, and then knocked on the door. A few seconds later, a sleepy-looking Davy wearing striped pajamas answered the door. "It better not become a trend for you to knock on my door in the wee hours of the morning."
"Sorry…" said Peter. "It's just…I need your help."
"It's cool," said Davy. "Whatcha need?"
"It's Cara…" said Peter. "I was wondering, do you have any tips for me? I really like her a lot."
"Well first off if ya wanna get a lady to like you I'd never wear those pajamas around her, mate—ever," said Davy.
"Hey, yours aren't exactly designer," retorted Peter.
"Pete, do you want my advice or not?" asked Davy.
"Yes," said Peter submissively.
"Okay then," said Davy. "Start off with some complements, like 'Cara, your eyes are like two chocolate cupcakes, floating in a sea of sour cream!'…"
"Sour cream?" asked Peter, looking disgusted. "Davy, that's gross!"
"Well, you asked, mate," said Davy, shrugging. "Wait…doesn't Cara have a psychopath boyfriend who she's on the run from who could find her any day and beat the living shit out of anyone who got in his way, let alone date her?"
"Yeah, but I don't care," said Peter dreamily. "I think I'm in love."
"Oh, we all can see that," said Davy. "But…aren't you worried mate? I mean…from what Cara told us Jeff's a pretty scary guy. He'll kill ya if he sees anyone with his girl."
"But Davy, you said it once yourself!" said Peter. "Come on, 'A man in love has the strength of millions,' remember?"
"Yeah, I do but…that was me," said Davy.
"Look," said Peter. "I'm willing to do anything to win this girl over. How the hell did you do it with Abigail? Just look at her? I mean come on! It just isn't fair."
Davy put a hand on Peter's shoulder (with a great amount of effort to reach it of course). "Aw, come on big Pete, I'm sure it'll all work out. We all just have different ways of doing things. Cara didn't even like me, remember? It'll be alright."
"I hope so," said Peter. The two walked downstairs, soon followed by Mike and Mickey who had woken up during Peter and Davy's talk ("Do ya'll have to talk so loud guys?" complained Mike on the way down). A sweet smell filled their noses as they got to the kitchen. Cara was still there cooking chocolate chip pancakes and scrambled eggs for the boys.
Cara turned around, startled to see them down so early. "Oh! Good morning guys! I made breakfast!"
"Wow Cara, you are great!" exclaimed Mickey, excited to have someone else cooking. "Smells fantastic!"
"Thanks!" said Cara, piling the pancakes onto a plate and finishing up mixing the eggs. "I thought I'd do it as a thank-you for letting me stay here. Pay you guys back a little."
"Well we certainly appreciate it," said Peter, trying to think of something nice to say to Cara. There was a slightly awkward pause before Peter finally said, "Your shirt goes really well with your eyes—like a tree or something!"
"What, Peter, a tree, seriously?" asked Mike. "The hell does that mean?"
Cara laughed. "Oh, it's okay, I get it, my shirt's green and my eyes are brown, like a tree," she said. "Thanks Peter. Those are groovy pajamas."
Peter gave Davy a look that silently said, "Ha! She does like them! Told ya so!"
Davy looked back at Peter and shrugged as if to say, "Ah well, you got lucky this time…"
"Thanks Cara," said Peter.
"Oh, and by the way guys…" said Cara. "I know you all probably have a good reason for it, but what in the world is that." She pointed over to the freakish dummy sitting in the corner of the kitchen.
"Oh, that's just Mr. Snyder," said Mickey.
"Ah…" said Cara. "And what is he, exactly?"
"Our dummy," said Mickey.
"And what's his purpose? Just asking…he kinda scared me this morning."
"Nothin'," said Mike. "He's just our dummy."
"I see…" said Cara. "Oh well, I guess everyone has their quirks. Anyway boys, food's ready! I'll serve!"
"Alright!" exclaimed Mickey as three huge chocolaty pancakes and a scoop of eggs were piled onto his plate. "This looks great!"
"I hope it is," said Cara. "I've always liked cooking, until Jeff made me grab every little snack for him. I figure if I do it for someone else—ya know, someone who won't beat me if I add a little too much flour or something—that I'd start to like it again." She served the other three breakfast and then finally herself. They guys, being guys, dug in right away and were stuffing their faces. Cara smiled to herself and took a bite of her cooking. Needless to say, she had not lost her touch.
"Wow Cara, you sure are a great cook," said Peter in between bites. "I don't think I could have done it better!"
"That's cause you couldn't, Peter," said Davy.
"Aw, don't be so mean," said Cara. "I'm sure Peter has some stuff up his sleeves."
"Yeah, what was that crap you always make, cream of root beer soup or something?" asked Davy, suppressing laughter. "And who do you think you are Cara, our mother?"
"Davy Jones, be quiet and eat your food before it gets cold, you'll get sick," said Cara without missing a beat, causing Mike, Mickey, and Peter to break out into laughter, leaving Davy looking bewildered, offended, and thrown off.
"Gosh, you are really funny Cara!" said Peter.
"Thanks Peter," said Cara. "You sure are sweet this morning."
Peter glanced over triumphantly at Davy, who just smirked, sighed, and rolled his eyes. "Oh, but Cara, isn't he always?" asked Davy sarcastically.
Instead of playing along with Davy's joke, Cara beamed, looked at Peter, and said, "Yeah, always." Peter couldn't really figure out how to say anything; he just went red and grinned like a goof, his heart going a mile a minute. She thought he was sweet! He felt even better when he saw Davy's flabbergasted look, wondering how in the world Cara went for an idiot like Peter but turned Davy down! Peter was beginning to think he finally had it down, no matter what Davy would tell him later.
Abigail was lying down on the couch in her living room when the door opened. It was Jeff, coming back home after another day of searching. "Any luck?" asked Abigail routinely, desperately hoping he had not found Cara anywhere.
"Not at all," said Jeff. "I swear, when that little bitch turns up she's gonna get it…"
"Jeff, that's enough," said Abigail sternly, sitting up. "She obviously doesn't want anything to do with you anymore."
"Any why the hell would she not want to have anything to do with me, huh?" boomed Jeff.
"Because brother, you beat her, force her to do senseless things for her, abuse her, you keep her locked away from anything and everything the world has to offer," said Abigail, very agitated. "I'd say good for Cara that she finally got some balls and standing you up!"
"Shut up, bitch!" screamed Jeff. He swung his open palm and slapped his own sister in the face hard and loud. Abigail screamed and cowered. "Try modeling with that red mark on your face!"
"I'll cover it up," said Abigail menacingly, trying her hardest to hold back her tears. There was no way she was going to cry in front of a brute like Jeff.
"Whatever," said Jeff. "You know, Abigail, you're my sister, which means you're supposed to be on my side, not on my slut girl's side."
"She's not a slut, you'd never let her be," said Abigail. "You're horrible, you know that?"
"And I know you know where she is," said Jeff. "I checked in her room and the clothes that were there when she left are gone now, and she couldn't have been here. You're hiding something and I know I'm going to find out."
"You wish, asshole," said Abigail through gritted teeth. The red mark from where Jeff slapped her was getting sorer by the second, but she bit her pain back. No sign of weakness was going to be shown here. "Cara's my best friend, and brother or not, she's safe with me."
"We'll see about that. I'm leaving again," said Jeff. "You better not be helping that bitch out sis." The big man lumbered over to the door and walked out, leaving Abigail alone in the empty room again. She had to get over to Cara…just had to get away from living with that douchebag, her brother. She waited a few minutes until she was sure Jeff was far enough away that he would not be able to follow her anywhere, and then she herself was out the door and driving to the Monkee's pad.
Cara and the guys were crowded in the living room playing Scrabble. She was kicking everyone's butt and she knew it—she'd never even played the game before, but she had caught on fantastically. "Alright boys, cower in the majesty of the Almighty Cara, Champion of Scrabble!"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," said Davy. "Game's not over yet honey." Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.
"Ah man, how many Goddamn knocks is this door gonna take?" asked Mike, agitated. He got up to answer it and saw a distressed-looking Abigail.
"Abigail!" shouted Davy, rushing to the door as soon as he noticed the large red mark across her face. "What happened love?"
"Jeff happened," said Abigail walking in. "I stood up for Cara and he slapped me."
"Oh man," said Mickey.
"Yeah, what a brute," said Davy. "Some brother, eh?"
"Yeah, great guy," said Abigail, brimming with sarcasm.
"So I take it you're on the run too?' asked Mike.
"I just need some time away from him," said Abigail. "I'm not gonna be bunking here like Cara, but at least I know I have a place to run to."
"Well you're welcome to stay anytime you need," said Peter.
"Yeah Abigail, we understand," said Davy. "Just as long as he doesn't follow you here."
"Oh, he won't," said Abigail. "He figured out that I knew more than he thought before, but I'll never let him find out where Cara is."
"You're great," said Cara. "And thanks for standing up for me…you didn't have to, I mean, you got hurt for it, but thanks all the same."
"No problem," said Abigail. "You can always trust me to help you out. You're more family to me than Jeff is."
"I'd hope so," said Cara, ginning. They invited Abigail to join their game, which she did. Of course, Cara won, and gloated like she had never gloated before, because she knew that no one in that room was out to get her. The feeling of free was the best feeling she had felt in a very long time.