As the group of travelers settled in for the evening, Kate and her daughters were a-bustle in the kitchen, preparing dinner. Taking his surprise visit and the extra company into consideration, Mike was quick to join them, offering as much help as he could, while the other boys and Shug relaxed in the den.

Kate worried over a stew pot, continually stirring at her homemade chili stock. She took a taste of it and made a dissatisfied face. "It needs a little somethin'… If someone could hand me th' salt, please?"

Mike had no sooner turned around when he was nearly bowled over by Sugar, who immediately skipped to the cabinet across the way. She had barely opened the door when Kate spied her. Aunt Kate stood with her hip tilted to the side, expression stern as she glared at Shug from her station at the cook stove.

The girl clutched onto the kitchen salt shaker with both hands. "I was just… I thought I'd…y'know, thought I'd help."

"Now, Sugar, while I don't mind the help, I don't like strangers nosin' around in my kitchen," the older woman declared. She pointed her spoon at the taller female, then waved it toward the living room. "You go on an' sit with your friends."

Sugar drew in a breath and held it a minute or so, her lip protruding in a severe pout. Her eyebrows knitted together angrily as she headed out the kitchen door. She left the salt shaker on the counter near her brother, who made sure his head was hidden behind a cabinet door. He waited, reading and re-reading the ingredients list on a bottle of ketchup, until he was sure that tense little moment had passed.

Mike closed the cabinet door, only to find Sugar's face right behind it, which gave him a start. He put a hand on his heart, as it thumped extra-hard in that instance.

"I'm a stranger in my own home," Shug whispered through gritted teeth.

"Give her time, hon'." Mike did his best to sound reassuring. "You know how Aunt Kate is sometimes."

"But Miiiiiike," the girl pleaded.

"It'll work out," he insisted. He gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze. "Don't fret none, okay?"

"Fine." Letting out a perturbed scoff, the dejected twin retreated to the living room to join her friends. That left Mike with his cousins and his aunt, all situated under a fog of ill-at-ease emotions.

"Hey, Aunt Kate?" he chanced. "She's not a bad cook, y'know."

Kate held her ground at the stove, giving the pot a stir while Lucy dumped in a bowl of freshly-cut spring onions. "Michael, you know how I feel about strange people in my kitchen. They snoop around, they move things an' put 'em where they ought'na be…"

"She brought me this." Mike held the salt shaker aloft before presenting it to the elder woman. "That oughta tell ya somethin'."

Kate looked at the little container contemplatively, her lip curled to the side, then glanced up at her nephew. Letting go a slightly flustered sigh, she turned her attention back to her chili, but not without first adding that necessary dash of salt.

"There's somethin' about her I don't like," Lucy said with a snort. "She's got…I dunno, one of those faces."

Mike narrowed his eyes at his blonde cousin. "Whaddaya—One of those faces? Lucy, what is one of THOSE faces? Define that for me, would ya please?" She rolled her eyes and stuck her nose in the air, suddenly very preoccupied with cleaning her mess from the counter.

"I'll take that to mean that even you don't know," Mike groused and shook his head. In all those years, Lucy hadn't really changed at all. Still aloof. 'Too pretty for her own good' was how his uncle had phrased it once, many years ago.

As Mike resumed his quest for condiments and serving dishes, he felt a hand pat him on the back. He turned to see Clara, smiling, and carrying a plate of biscuits in her opposite hand.

"Don't pay her no mind." She gave a rather perturbed glance at her older sister, then directed her eyes back to her cousin. Her face softened. "I kinda like her. She reminds me of you, for some reason."

Having just taken a portion of biscuit into his mouth, Mike promptly began choking.

Clara frantically pounded the boy on the back. "Michael? Don't die on me, you just got here!"

At last, he was able to swallow the bit of pastry, though he still coughed a few times. "What—koff koff—What makes you say that?"

"We talked about chasin' lizards and hidin' 'em in our cousins' dresses," Clara snickered. "And about summers in th' country. She said she misses 'em. I do too when I'm away at school."

Mike couldn't help smiling over what was another shared memory with his sister. Lucy would chastise him and Clara for getting themselves almost knee-deep in the creek while they looked for tadpoles. As payback, the two of them would catch lizards and sometimes hide them in Lucy's nightgown. This usually resulted in screams and crying, plus a good spanking from Aunt Kate, but Mike and Clara always agreed it was worth it. All they wanted was for Lucy to play with them, but she would have no part of it. The fact that she still distanced herself from them was disheartening. That was just Lucy's way.

Clara's voice brought Mike back into the present. "I showed her around th' place," she continued. "Shug seemed awfully interested in your old room." She raised a suspicious eyebrow at the boy. "You two ain't…sparkin', are ya?"

Again, Mike had a mouthful of biscuit. Again, Mike choked, this time sputtering crumbs everywhere.

"No, no," he wheezed frantically. "OH GOD NO."

Kate threw her hands in the air. "For th' love of—Mike, did you forget how to chew?"

Clara set a plate full of biscuits onto the coffee table. "I'm sure Momma won't mind if I bring these in here," she chimed. "Figured you could appreciate a home-slung biscuit after bein' on the road for so long." She plopped onto the sofa next to Davy, who seemed perplexed by the small, round baked goods. She watched as he took one in his hand and simply peered at it, examining its edges and layers. He pinched at it, almost surprised at its texture.

"That's not a biscuit," he declared. He peeled it apart, watching the steam rise up from its center.

"That is so a biscuit," Shug argued. She stuffed a good portion of one in her mouth.

Davy shook his head. "No, luv, it isn't. Biscuits are firm and crunchy. You have them with tea."

Sugar finished chewing and swallowed hard, anxious to continue the food debate. "We call that a 'cookie'." She slid back on the loveseat, crossing her legs in what was a rather unladylike fashion until Peter gave her a slight nudge with his elbow. Alarmed, she wasted no time correcting her posture. "Anyway," she carried on, "you're always gettin' food names mixed up. What is it you call potato chips again?"

"Those are crisps." The little Englishman wagged a finger at her. "And before you start in on those fried potato bits, I'll have you know those are called chips back home." Davy had another look at one of the biscuit halves in his hands before succumbing to his curiosity and tasting the thing. His thick eyebrows raised in astonishment. "Oi, y'know what? That's not bad. It's like a squishy scone."

Clara crossed her arms and snickered. "We may win you over yet, Lil' Britain."

"While England will always be home, the truth is I do so love the Colonies," Davy beamed. He happily began nibbling on the other half of his biscuit.

Dinner was a mostly uneventful affair, much to the relief of the Monkees. Aunt Kate's chili was a hit with everyone and because Davy had developed a sudden liking of American biscuits, Clara had to whip together another batch so there were still enough for everyone to get their fill. Conversation was pleasant and at times funny, which was typical for the boys. Mikey marveled at his new friends' tales of thwarted robberies and broken spy rings, as well as the occasional fun heckler at a gig.

Sugar spent quite a bit of time simply sitting quietly, pinching off pieces of biscuit and dropping them into her chili before eating it. She wondered if Kate had put a bit of extra spice in her serving to help fend off that little bout of sniffles. Bless her, it was exactly how she remembered it.

It was after dinner that the quintet and the Nesmith ladies gathered in the living room for light dessert and some genuine relaxation. Kate reasoned that the group needed it after their long drive. She passed in front of the sofa with a coffee carafe and cups on a wooden tray.

Mike eyed the tray and gave his aunt a smirk. "You saved that thing?" He chuckled. "That was a terrible shop class project!"

"What 'terrible', Mike?" Kate smiled warmly as she poured a couple of cups of coffee. "That's still the prettiest peacock I've ever seen."

"Awww, widdle Mikey is an artist," Micky goofed, leaning against Mike enough that he was almost in his lap.

Mike shoved him back upright. "Cut it out, wouldya?"

In the love seat across from Mike and Micky were Lucy and Davy, while Clara perched herself on the arm of that same love seat. Sugar and Peter were in soft, plush chairs next to each other and at the far end of the coffee table. Mikey sat on the floor, further away from the group as he fed Clara's pet goat a few leftovers. Kate situated herself on the couch on the opposite side of her nephew, taking a moment to hand the second cup of the caffeinated brew to Sugar, who kept gaping at it, baffled.

"I saw you brought your guitars," the elder woman mused, taking a sip of her coffee. "Think I could talk you boys into playin'?"

Mike feigned whining. "Ehh…"

Micky playfully cuffed Mike behind the ear, knocking his hat off his head. "Hey, you do what your Aunt Kate says!"

"Don't do that!"

Kate never looked up from her cup. "Y'all boys behave now or else I'm gonna have to get a switch after ya." She followed up with a low snicker.

"She don't mess around, eh?" Davy laughed, excusing himself from his seat with the Nesmith girls. He approached Micky and gave him a solid rap on the head. "I'd hate to see what she'd do to you two. I've already seen what she does with trespassers and bandits!"

"P'shaw, she wouldn't hurt us," Micky scoffed cheerfully. "We're family! Isn't that right, Aunt Kate?"

The older, wiser woman took another sip of her coffee, expression never changing. "Don't push your luck, Fuzzy."

Mike couldn't hold in the laugh that escaped him. He reached over and gave Peter a quick pat on the knee. "C'mon, Shotgun, let's go. If the lady wants a song, she gets a song." Peter nodded and was on his feet almost instantly, a few steps behind Mike as he marched down the hall to the guest rooms. Davy and Micky followed, leaving Sugar alone with Mike's family.

Alone.

With them.

Sugar wrapped her hands tightly around her coffee cup and took another swig of the stuff. As she did so, she made sure to avoid eye contact with Kate or Lucy. Clara didn't seem nearly as frightening, though friendliness had always been one of her strongest traits. Besides, the goats had approved of Shug and that was enough to satisfy the bespectacled girl.

Lucy and Aunt Kate were another story, however. Shug found herself mentally cursing at the boys as time seemed to slow to a snail's pace, the seconds moving like hours. If she stayed quiet and just kept drinking her coffee, things would be fine. She brought the cup to her lips for another sip.

Having fed Barbara, Mikey patted her between the horns and stood. He stretched and scratched at his stomach, sort of rocking on his heels. "Miss Kate, you didn't tell me your nephew had himself a twin."

It was then that the comfort of coffee quickly turned into liquid sabotage, as a small dose of the stuff crept down Shug's windpipe. She spat and choked in a vain attempt to catch her breath. It was only when she felt someone solidly pound an open hand on her back that she could even attempt a wheeze.

"M'sorry," she squeaked while wiping tears from her eyes. After a few short gasps, she found herself able to breathe again, though a slight rasp remained till she cleared her throat. Sugar took a glance to her side, noting it was Clara who had come to her rescue and who still had a hand on her back. She managed a smile and the other dark-haired girl returned it.

Clara shook her head, bemused. "You an' Mike must've been hangin' around each other too long. Can't neither of you make your way around anythin' you're s'posed to eat or drink." She gave the ailing girl a hug around the shoulder.

Sugar gave Clara's hand an appreciative squeeze, then turned back toward the other two women, intending to offer an apology for the outburst. Widened eyes stared back at her; they almost looked offended.

"Twin? What's this 'twin' business? Mike's an only child," Lucy snorted derisively. Leaning forward in her seat, she squinted at Sugar. "Just where'd you come from, anyway?"

Sugar held tighter to the coffee cup, for fear her nervous shivering would cause her to drop it. It wasn't like she could simply say 'It's okay, my best friend split me in half and surprise! Now you have a new cousin!' She had to fumble her way around an excuse. A story. Something. If there was any other talent that she shared with her brother, it had to be the ability to improvise things on the spot.

"I sorta popped in one day," she said, voice very low. Well, that much was true.

Sitting up much straighter, Lucy folded her arms across her chest. "Is that so? How do you just 'pop in' and claim you're someone's twin? That ain't right." She threw a look at her mother, who remained eerily quiet, but kept her gaze firmly locked on Sugar. The sassy blonde persisted in her interrogation efforts. "Been here a whole afternoon and we don't even know your full name!"

"Ev-everyone calls me Sugar." If she held onto that cup any tighter, she knew she would shatter it.

"You ain't Cher, honey," Lucy quipped. "You ain't one of them good-fer-nothin' Cartwheels, are ya? What's your last name?"

"Lucy, that's enough," Kate said firmly.

"Well?"

"Lucille, you settle down right now!"

Shug finally broke. "It's Nesmith." Oh God, why did she say it? Smith would have done just fine. Even something as ridiculous as Hodstetter. But nope, she had to open her mouth and stick her foot square into it.

The room went silent, save for the sound of Barbara's tail swishing over the carpet. Lucy slowly sank back into her seat, her temper deflating. Kate calmly set her now-empty cup on the coffee table and took a moment to smooth out the tail of her skirt before raising her eyes back up to focus on Sugar. "Well, that settles that."

Mikey remained rooted in place, his young face full of worry. "I'm sorry, Miss Sugar. I didn't know that—"

"It's okay." Shug's voice was still quiet, but also kind. "Don't you worry about it."

Clara remained next to Sugar after the choking incident had long passed and had not once loosened her grip around the new girl's shoulders. Her face brightened. "It's a nickname!" she blurted jubilantly. "I know there cain't be that many Nesmiths out in California, so no wonder he calls you his twin!"

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard." Lucy crossed her arms again and looked away, swinging her head fast enough to make her blonde locks billow out before settling back on her shoulders.

"It is not," Clara argued. She gleefully gave her new friend a full and proper hug, chattering about how much it meant for her cousin to have some kind of family connection that far away from home. As she pulled away, still grinning and giggling, she looked Shug right in the eyes and there came an awkward pause. There was something in the way Clara quickly scanned her face. Her pupils dilated and she held her breath.

Recognition.

It was faint, but it was there. Shug couldn't decide if she wanted to beg for forgiveness from her family or run.

Clara shook her head, as if to clear the clouds from her mind, then looked at Sugar again before giving her another, even more solid hug.

Micky emerged from the hall, confused by the scene before him. "Did we miss something?" The rest of the boys soon followed, with Peter and Mike hauling their respective stringed instruments.

"Lucy had herself a tantrum," Clara hissed, releasing Shug from her grip. "Scared poor Sugar here."

"It was not a tantrum," the blonde girl defended. "I just wanted some answers is all." She lowered her head, tucking in her chin. "Bringin' weird girls into mah house…"

Kate rolled her eyes. "Manners, Lucille."

Mike's face blanched. He propped his guitar against the back of the love seat and hurried to Shug's side, leaning down close to her face. He kept his voice at a whisper. "You okay, Baby Sister?"

Sugar took a deep breath and nodded. She blinked and it seemed like Peter appeared out of nowhere, doing his best to pry the coffee mug from her hands. He placed it on the coffee table, then held tightly onto her fingers as he kissed the top of her head.

"We were only gone a minute," he whimpered.

"It was a long minute, Shotgun," she answered, voice still quaking. She caught Clara's surprised expression, which was quickly followed by a smile.

"So that's who you're sparkin' with," the younger cousin beamed happily. Peter looked at her, his face fully revealing his lack of comprehension at such a phrase. Clara's cheeks flushed and she wasted no time turning back toward Sugar and muttering. "Oh my. He's really kinda pretty."

Shug felt sudden warmth in her own face and she finally allowed herself to smile again. "Yeah," she said as quietly as possible, "he, um, he kinda is." She was slow to release Peter's hands as he pulled away to retrieve his banjo from its temporary resting place next to Mike's guitar. As he threw the strap over his shoulder, he returned to stand near his girlfriend. Clara moved back to her position on the arm of the love seat, though the happiness on her face was hard to miss.

Mike got his own guitar and had barely sat down when Clara bounced to her feet again. "I almost forgot!" She ran down the hall, calling over her shoulder, "I got somethin' you need to see, Michael!"

"Does she ever sit down for more than two minutes at a time?" Davy quipped, taking his place next to Lucy.

"If I remember right…no," Mike laughed.

"Well, I guess you can see nothing's changed since you saw her last," Kate offered. "Regular ball of energy. She's got school, interns with th' vet, then still has time to take care of th' goats an' whatnot. I don't know how she does it."

Lucy continued to grump. "Showoff."

"A good raisin', that's how," Mike said, ignoring his cousin's complaints. He had begun tuning his blonde twelve-string when Clara reappeared in the den, an antique acoustic guitar in hand. Involuntarily, he fumbled with his own guitar, pointing and slack-jawed suddenly. "That's-that's-"

"Jack's guitar," Kate finished. Tears played at the corners of her eyes. "He loved that thing. Wasn't bad at it, either."

Mike set his instrument aside and took the older guitar from Clara. He ran his fingers over the frets, which were worn from years of use. The finish was still scratched and the wood stain faded where his uncle had played it so much. "Uncle Jack's th' one who taught me how to play."

"What happened?" Micky ventured.

"When Jack got back from th' war, he got very sick," Kate answered, voice low and level. "Thing is, he didn't say much about it on account he didn't want t' worry us." She picked at the design on her dress. "Hid it for a long time, that stubborn old man."

"Gosh… I'm…I'm sorry, Kate."

"It's alright, Micky," she answered warmly, dabbing at her eyes. "He did leave me with a nice place to live an' two perfect little girls, an' somehow managed to pass on some of that gentlemanly nature to Michael here."

Mike looked up from the old guitar's strings, blushing. "Now, Kate, you know I ain't no Jack." He allowed a little smile. "But I appreciate the thought."

Sugar watched as her brother plucked at the instrument, knackering out a couple of chords at a time. She remembered how careful Uncle Jack was in his instruction: Hold the guitar this way, do this to tune the strings, always take good care of it… The part of her that held that memory still missed him. With no father around, he was the closest thing she could have hoped for in those days.

A nudge at her elbow brought her back to the present. Mike sat the guitar in her lap. She stammered, completely taken aback and he gave her hand a pat.

"Jack wouldn't mind."

Shug could have cried right then. She curled her fingers around the neck of the instrument, positioning them onto the frets to form those first few chords Jack had taught.

"So," Mike said, sniffling only a bit as he strummed at his own guitar, "what should we play?"

"Somethin' cheerful," Sugar suggested, still running her hands lovingly over the antique guitar. "I think it'd suit just fine."

"Right, then." Not waiting another moment, Mike played one chord, then flew into the opening notes of one of his more country songs.

Peter had no trouble picking up and playing along, though it was the first time they had ever included a banjo in that arrangement. As Shug joined in, the harmonies became thicker and the smiles wider. Lacking in proper percussion instruments, Davy improvised by putting his hand over the top of the candy dish and rattling it in time, as Micky used a spoon to tap out a Latin beat on the side of the coffee carafe. It wasn't long before Clara and Kate were clapping on the downbeat and even Lucy caved and joined in the revelry.