( First, PLEASE DON'T KILL THE WRITER! I'm sorry. I asked Timespace64, yes I'm calling you out again, for a word and she gave me the word Journey and this happened.

I don't own The Monkees.

Thank you to Murdock Calavicci, BohemianBeatle and Maristar for your reviews on the last chapter.

This has been looked over by the wonderful Timespace64.

I hope you like it.)

"Mike," Micky said softly, looking at the taller of the two men. Mike looked out the window at the beach.

"Yeah Micky?" Mike asked, looking at his friend, turning his back from the seen below.

"Can we talk?" Micky asked.

"Yeah, I think it's safe," Mike said. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Mike, where do we go when we die?" Micky asked. Mike sighed, wondering what he should say.

"I don't know Micky," He answered, voices made him pause as the bedroom door opened.

"As you can see there's a larger bedroom upstairs." Mr. Babbitt said as a small family walked in to look around. The woman went over to the closet and opened it up to look inside.

"Hey, get out of there!" Mike snarlled.

"Spacious." She said, ignoring Mike and going over to the window instead. "Oh Richie, look! Sue can see the beach from the window."

"I can?" The little girl said, running over on chubby legs to try to look out the window.

Her mom smiled and picked her up and pointed. "See, down there, that's the beach."

Micky got off the bed and moved over to where Mike was standing, leaning against the wall with one leg crossed over the other. The father joined the mother and daughter in the bedroom.

"Mike, Babbitt is trying to rent out the house again," He said in a whisper, although he knew the family couldn't hear him.

"I know Micky," Mike said watching the family still.

"If we put up some curtains and touch up the paint and get rid of that bed," She gestured to the bed Micky had gotten off of. "I think it'll be perfect. What do you think?"

"I think it sounds lovely," the man said, "What do you think Buttercup… Think you'll be happy here?" He asked, looking at the little girl.

"I think so," Sue answered. "Mommy, can I go down to the beach?"

The woman looked at her and smiled. "Maybe later, sweetheart."

"We'll take it, Mr. Babbitt," the man said, smiling. Mike pushed himself off the wall and looked at the people as they walked out.

"Great, we'll go back to my office and sign the papers and you can move in on the first of the month," Mr. Babbitt was said, closing the door behind him as the family left the room.

"I like them," Micky said. "They'll be good for it, I think." Mike smiled, nodding slightly.

"Yeah," He adjusted the green hat on his head and sighed.

"Well Mick, are you ready to journey into the unknown?" Mike asked as a soft white light started glowing.

"Ready as I'll ever be," Micky smiled as he looked at the light as well. Already he could hear Davy grumbling about Peter's Cream of Root Beer Soup.

"Let's go then, they're waiting for us." Mike said and as the sun went down over the ocean, making the room glow orange with the setting sun. Micky Dolenz and Mike Nesmith walked into the light, vanishing from this world.

On the way back to their old apartment, Francie and Richard talked quietly as to not wake their daughter.

"I don't know Rich, I mean it seems kind of seems to big order to be moving into their house," Francie whispered.

"They have been dead for a year, Fran. I don't think any of those boys would be hanging around. And if they were, they must like us," Rich said. "You heard what Babbitt said, all the other times he showed the place, odd noises would be heard and drum sticks would be tossed at people. None of that happened to us." Francie sighed and nodded. He had a point and the house was cute and a great deal for being right next to the water. Yes, they were going to be happy in that house.