"Heather this was an excellent meal," Ronda said as she collected the dishes for washing up.
"Thank you Ronda!" beamed Heather. She had received some sort of praise from the whole group and it was making her feel so happy.
Ronda moved over to the sink to wash the dishes and the pot Heather had used, Davy coming over to help her out.
"Man, we should play some tunes tonight," Micky suggested, wandering over to the little alcove where the band kept their instruments.
"I'm not sure…," Mike began but Heather cut him off.
"Oh please! That would be so wonderful!" Heather exclaimed. Isaac shot her a look, warning her not to push anything.
"I think Micky's right," Peter agreed. Mike gave him a smile, pleasantly surprised. He and the others had noticed the positive change that was happening to Peter. He was more talkative, more interactive.
"Well shucks, I guess we'll have to play now," Mike grinned. Heather cheered and sat down, cross-legged, at the base of the alcove.
Micky bent down behind his drum kit, rummaging around back there to find his sticks. It took him a moment, but he found them eventually and then sat down. Peter scurried over to the alcove as well, getting out his bass. It had been awhile since he had properly played his guitar, properly played it with the love any instrument deserved to be played with.
Davy and Ronda finished drying the dishes and putting them away. With that finished, Davy went into the downstairs bedroom, which was now the Monkees collective bedroom since Heather, Ronda, and Isaac slept in the upstairs one. Meanwhile, Mike got out his gretch guitar. Shortly Davy came back with three maracas.
"Sorry, sorry, I couldn't remember where I left them," Davy apologized as he leapt up onto the alcove platform. Isaac and Ronda settled down on the two chairs that they had turned to face the alcove.
And so the band began to play. At first they each did their own little thing, in a warming up sort of way, but eventually they fell into a rhythm, which turned into a familiar song they all remembered. Once they fell into a song they all recalled, the vocals were thrown in. The first song they played, Micky sang. Then Mike sang a little tune, improvising in one section where he forgot the lyrics.
All in all they played five songs, Micky singing two, Mike singing one, and Davy singing the last two. After each one, Heather burst into applause, gushing about how amazing this was and that was. Ronda and Isaac joined in at the end. It wasn't that they didn't enjoy the music, it was just that Heather seemed to be enraptured and she needed this moment more than them.
"You guys are so amazing! Like the guitars were… so groovy and then the singing! Wow!" Heather exclaimed as the guys packed up their instruments. Well, alright, as Mike and Peter put away their guitars and Davy went back into the downstairs bedroom to put away his maracas.
"Thanks Heather, I'm glad you dug our tunes," Micky grinned.
"You boys are very talented," Ronda said. Mike nodded his head in acknowledgement to Ronda's compliment.
"You should play again tomorrow! That was so amazing!" Heather gushed, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
"Aha, well maybe we will," Davy chuckled as he came out of the downstairs bedroom. Heather threw her arms into the air and cheered.
"Well, I think for the night, we should all get some shut eye," Mike said, feigning a yawn. It was late. Heather and the gang needed their sleep.
"Aw, really?" pouted Micky.
"I think Mike's right," Heather agreed. Isaac gave her a curious look.
"You don't wish to stay up?" he asked, a smile playing on his lips.
"Well… I don't know, if Mike says it's bedtime, it's bedtime… it'd be the same if you or Ronda said so," Heather shrugged, her cheeks colouring pink a little.
"I'm bushed, so I'm off to sleep anyhow," Davy called from the downstairs bedroom.
"Goodnight Davy!" the three remaining Monkees, Heather, and Isaac chorused.
"Goodnight fellas," Davy replied.
"Let's head upstairs then, Heather," said Isaac. Heather took ahold of his hand, squeezing it tightly.
"Goodnight Micky, Mike," she said, turning to look at each Monkee respectively. Then she turned to Peter and said, "Goodnight Peter, thank you for helping decide dinner tonight."
"Night Heather… it was no problem," Peter responded in a quiet voice.
Heather grinned and released Isaac's hand, going over to Peter to embrace him in a large hug. Peter patted her back and then Heather pulled away. With that finished, Ronda, Isaac, and Heather made their way upstairs, with Mike and Micky calling their own goodnight's after them.
"Seems like you've taken a liking to Heather, huh Peter?" Micky smiled, wrapping an arm around Peter's shoulder.
"Yes, she's very… nice," Peter confirmed.
"Glad Micky was idiot enough to bring strangers back to the pad," Mike teased. Micky rolled his eyes.
"I feel bad for Heather. She's very young, she doesn't deserve any of this," Peter commented, his voice sounding distant.
"Well she's alright Peter. She's got Isaac and Ronda, and us!" Micky tried to comfort him.
"Yeah man, she's got us to give her the best sorta life she's gonna get," Mike agreed. Peter looked down at his bare feet. He wiggled his left big toe.
"I guess that's good enough," he murmured.
"Sure betcha it is!" Micky exclaimed.
The trio shuffled into the bedroom then. Peter changed his shirt while Micky slipped off into the bathroom to change into pajamas. Davy was already in Peter's bed, sound asleep. The sleeping arrangements of who slept with who varied every night. Mike settled down in Davy's bed.
When Micky came back into the room, Peter asked, "Micky, can I sleep with Mike tonight?" Micky shrugged his shoulders.
"Sure, I don't see why not," he said, clambering into Peter's bed, settling down with his back to Davy.
"Do you mind Mike?" Peter questioned.
"Course not, shotgun," Mike shook his head, scooting over a little. Peter hopped into bed.
"Lights turning off!" Micky announced before the room was plunged into an almost comforting darkness. The three men exchanged goodnight's once more and then the room fell into a silence.
Peter reached out towards Mike and found his hand. The bassist gently took hold of the Texan's hand and promptly fell asleep. This left Mike in a situation, one that was neither uncomfortable or comfortable. It just was. Sure it would be better for him if he pried Peter's hand off of his, but at the same time Mike didn't have the heart. And so Michael fell asleep wondering what he should do.
The night went by without any incidents. Heather woke up and tried to go back to sleep, but she couldn't seem to get herself to drift off. She knew it was early because both Ronda and Isaac were still fast asleep. Usually Heather woke up last, unless Micky wasn't on morning rounds that day, then it was Micky who woke up last.
But today it seemed Heather would possibly be one of the first awake. Seeing as she wasn't going to be going back to sleep, Heather quietly rolled off the bed and tiptoed out of the room. Trying to be as silent as possible, she crept downstairs. No one else was up. Heather wondered if she should go back upstairs and just lay in bed until Ronda or Isaac woke up.
She wandered over to the kitchen and then was heading back to the stairs when she noticed that the patio door was unlocked. A frown creased Heather's brow and she made her way over to the door. It was a bit chilly outside, but it was nice. The sun was shining and seagulls were crying. Heather went over to the railing on the porch and looked down. Sitting on the beach, near enough to the surf so that his toes got wet every time a wave came in, was Peter.
He was alone, as far as Heather could see. Shouldn't he be following the strict buddy system? Heather decided she wouldn't let Peter get in trouble with Mike or Ronda, and so she made her way down the wooden stairs to the beach and then padded over to Peter.
"Good morning," she greeted. Peter whirled around, body tensing.
"Sorry! Oh gosh, did I scare you?" Heather gushed, plopping down next to Peter.
"No, no, it's okay, it's okay," Peter wheezed, hand on his chest.
"Sorry," Heather repeated, "I just saw you down here alone, and you aren't supposed to be alone, so I didn't want you to get in trouble, so I came down here to make sure that, um, you didn't get in trouble with Michael or Ronda or anything."
Peter smiled at her briefly before turning to face the ocean.
"Thanks Heather, that's rather sweet of you," Peter said.
"Well I just thought it'd be something you'd do for me so…" Heather shrugged.
There was a moment of silence between the two of them, the only sound between them being the crash of the waves and the occasional gull.
"Why are you down here alone, Peter?" Heather spoke finally.
"Usually Micky's sitting up on the porch," Peter admitted, "But this morning I thought I'd wake up before he did so I could have a moment alone to think."
"You do a lot of thinking," Heather began but paused, digging her left foot into the damp sand underneath her.
"Everyone thinks a lot," Peter countered.
"I asked Isaac why you don't talk much," Heather blurted. Peter glanced at her.
"What?" he frowned, confused as to what she meant.
"Well, I was wondering why you didn't talk much, like around everyone and stuff, and he said that you and Mike and Micky and Davy, you guys all had to see some tough stuff before you guys were able to get the pad all nice and stuff… and I'm sorry you guys couldn't help your neighbors or friends or anything," Heather rambled slightly.
Peter laid back on the sand so that he could look up at the sky.
"I guess Mike told Isaac then about everything," he sighed.
"I think so, yeah," Heather confirmed.
Peter gave no indication of replying. Heather laid down next to him, laying on her side so that she could look at him.
"Isaac also said that you must have seen something awful for you to not talk like you did," Heather began, gently trying to broach the topic that she wanted to.
Again, Peter gave no indication of replying. Heather waited a moment before saying, "My mom and dad died in a car accident. I'm almost sad they died of that instead of the disease, because then it means that if none of this happened, they'd still be dead."
"I'm sorry to hear about your parents," Peter said sincerely.
"I was really upset about it too, until I came to the conclusion that they died for a reason. If they hadn't died, I wouldn't have met Isaac or Ronda, or even you and the guys. I would have probably been worse off than I am now. I realized that, maybe my parents aren't here, but they wouldn't want me to mope around and be sad. They'd want me to be as happy as I can, and start a new family for myself. And that's exactly what I did with Isaac and Ronda and now you guys," said Heather, at length.
Peter rolled over on his side, so that he was finally facing Heather.
"I'm glad Micky and Davy brought you guys back here too," he smiled, which Heather returned likewise.
"I know Davy cries sometimes because his family is over in England and he doesn't know if they're okay or not. I know Mike doesn't know about his family either, but he didn't like most of them to begin with so he's alright, because he has us to be his family. I don't know about Micky or you…," Heather prompted.
"What do you mean, know about us?" Peter frowned.
"Well you know… you're background story I guess… I mean I only know bits and pieces, I'm sure Isaac knows more and he just doesn't want to tell me because he thinks I'm a baby, and wants to protect me from bad things," Heather explained.
"You aren't a baby, you're very strong," Peter offered. Heather nodded acknowledgement to the compliment.
"Yeah, I know," she said, "So maybe you'll tell me what your guys's story is."
A gull cried and the waves crashed and Peter Tork chewed on his bottom lip, mulling over whether or not to say aloud what Heather wanted to know.
"Alright, I'll tell you," Peter finally said, running a hand through his hair as he flopped back onto his back.
