Second Chances

by Celestina Van Helsing

When a young woman starts hearing voices, she finds a book containing a photograph of herself, and two of her dearest friends inside it. The discovery sends her on a journey to find out why the subjects were murdered, and how she stops history repeating.

5. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

The next morning, sunlight streamed softly through the bay window, bathing the room in a warm, bright light. The warmth was a pleasant, and welcome sensation for the two sleepers on the couch in the middle of the living room. The younger of the two stirred, opening her eyes slowly at first, allowing them to acclimatise to the brightness, before opening them fully, taking in her surroundings. She was naked, she realised upon looking down at herself, save for a blanket protecting her modesty from the open air. She rolled over carefully, holding the blanket around herself, to look at the young man lying beside her, who was also covered in a blanket. She smiled as she gently brushed her fingertips across his sideburns, remembering the events of the previous night.

"Good mornin'," she greeted as he opened his eyes, "I was wonderin' when ye would wake up."

He smiled. "Hi," he greeted in return, "Sleep well?"

She leaned over and kissed him. "Very well," she replied, giggling as she pulled away. "But I think we should get dressed before the others wake up and find us like this. Ye know, in the altogether?"

"Yeah, gettin' dressed is a good idea," he agreed, "The fellas seein' the both of us naked, however, is not."

Gathering up her clothes, Aisling headed for the bathroom. "I'll be back in a few minutes," she called over her shoulder. "Unless ye want to join me?" she added, stopping in the doorway and taking a look back at him with a sly smile.

"I may have to take you up on that offer, babe," he said with a grin, "If you don't get in there fast enough."

Aisling laughed. "In that case, I better get in there as quick as I can, eh?" she said, stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind her.

Mike sat up on his elbows and looked around at his clothes strewn across the room. His wool hat had somehow made it onto Mr. Schneider's head, which made the wooden dummy look interesting, to say the least. Getting up with a sigh, he knew he needed to hurry up and get dressed, or risk being caught with his pants down, so to speak, and risk getting an ear-full from Peter about taking things too fast with Aisling. But it didn't feel like they'd taken things too fast, not when he took everything Aisling told him as the truth, and if she was right about them, they'd been together, as Radha and Gareth, for a very long time. Long enough, he reasoned, that they'd fallen in love, married, and probably even consummated their relationship, not necessarily in that order, before they died. To him, it was almost like they'd played out Radha and Gareth's entire relationship in one day, except the only thing he hadn't done yet was propose marriage! But while Mike did love Aisling, marriage was the one thing he wanted to leave alone for a while until they were sure they were both ready for it.

Aisling was fully dressed and drying off her hair with a towel when she returned from the bathroom. She looked at Mike, still picking up his clothes from the floor, and grinned. "The bathroom's free, whenever ye want it," she said. "And I'd hurry up and get in there, if I were you."

"Yes Mom," he replied, walking over and kissing her. He carried his pants and his shirt in one hand, while he held the blanket around himself with the other.

"Do ye want some help with those?" she asked, gesturing to the clothes in his hand, "I could go upstairs and get ye some clean clothes while ye take a shower?"

Mike looked at her hesitantly. "I'm not sure if that's a good idea, babe," he said, "They might figure out what we did last night, and I kinda don't want them to know about that yet." He sighed. "I don't want Peter to think we're moving too fast."

"But we're not really moving too fast, are we?"

"Of course we're not," he replied, sensing her concern, "But the others..."

"Aren't in love with you," she said bluntly, her voice quivering as she spoke. "At least not how I'm in love with you."

He looked at her apologetically. "I know. I'm sorry." He kissed her on the forehead. "I love you too."

Aisling sniffled, then smiled sadly. "Oh, go get in the shower before I chase ye in there, ye rotten sod," she said, giving him a playful swot on the backside as he went past. She walked over to Mr. Schneider, and picked up Mike's wool hat off of the dummy's wooden head. The thought of how it got there, while she and Mike had been 'in the throes of passion', made her smile. She'd thrown the hat, not knowing where it would end up, when they'd decided they were wearing too many clothes and needed to get out of them as fast as they could. "Do ye think my relationship with Mike is goin' to last, Mr. Schneider?" she asked, before adding wistfully, "Or will it die a slow horrible death regardless of whether we want it to or not?" Reaching behind him, she gently pulled the rip cord, waiting for the dummy to answer her question.

"It is better to have loved and lost," it said mechanically, "Than never to have loved at all."

Aisling sighed. "I guess all relationships go through that. One way or another." She frowned. "If you can call what I've got with Mike a 'relationship'."

"Sure it is!" a voice said beside her, causing her to jump with fright, "It just hasn't been a very long one!"

It was Micky, having slid down the banister of the tornado staircase while she was distracted.

"Geez, Mick," she said when she recovered her composure a little, "Ye scared the bejesus out of me!" She eyed him suspiciously. "How long have you been there?" she asked.

"Long enough... to know that Mike's bed wasn't slept in last night." He grinned, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. "By either of you."

"Oh." She blushed. "Ye won't say anythin' to Peter or Davy will ye?"

Micky shook his head. "No. What you and Mike do to, I mean, with each other is your own business."

"Thanks Mick," she replied with relief. "Em, Mike kinda wants to keep things quiet for the time being. Ye dig?"

"I dig."

"Groovy."

Despite her better judgment, Aisling trusted Micky to hold his tongue around Peter and Davy regarding what he knew about her and Mike's 'activities' from the previous night, and she especially didn't want him to let Mike know that he figured out what happened as soon as he woke up and found Mike's bed empty, with no visible evidence that it had been slept in. But she also didn't want Micky to taint her memories of the beautiful experience she'd had by broadcasting what he knew for everyone to hear. Thankfully, Peter and Davy emerged from their bedroom before she had the chance to approach the subject.

"Mornin' fellas," she greeted.

"Morning Ais," Peter replied, giving her a hug. "Sleep well last night?"

Aisling smiled, blushing a little without realising it. "I slept very well, thank you."

"Where's Mike?" Davy asked.

"Right here," said Mike, coming out of the bathroom clad in a bathrobe. "I woke up earlier than usual today, so I thought I'd take a shower."

"So what do we do now?" asked Aisling, walking over and embracing him, eager to hear what they were going to do next. "Have breakfast?"

"I gotta get dressed first," he said, stroking her hair, "But yeah, we can have breakfast now."

Peter smiled. "It's my turn to make breakfast today," he said happily, "But I promise, it won't be anything like my 'Cream of Root Beer' soup!"

"I hope not," she replied, her face turning slightly green, "The last thing we need right now is for one of us to get sick. No offence."

"None taken."

"But isn't that goin' to be a bit of a problem, Peter?" she asked, pointing to his bandaged hand. "I can help ye, if you'll let me?"

Peter nodded. "Okay, Ais."

Micky and Davy, who had been suspiciously quiet in the past few moments, suddenly made a break for the bathroom, both of them trying to get there before the other. Micky almost won, but Davy's height gave him the advantage, ducking under Micky's arm and slipping through the doorway, quickly shutting the door behind him.

"Oh man!" Micky groaned, "The midget's gonna be in there FORVER!"

"That just means ye need to move a little faster," Aisling said, slightly amused by her friends antics. "Ye might win once in a while if ye do."

"You'd think, after living in a house full of girls, I'd have learned to get to the bathroom faster," he grumbled. "But living with Davy makes no difference."

Aisling grinned. "You have my sympathy, Mick."

Micky smiled. "Thanks, Ais."

"Well, I better get upstairs," Mike announced, giving Aisling a quick peck on the lips. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Don't take too long," she whispered.

"I won't."

Reluctantly letting him go, Aisling watched him head up the tornado staircase and disappear into his room. Part of her wanted to follow him, to let him take her in his arms again, to let him do the things that made her feel warm, and safe, and loved. She wanted him to make her feel happy. But instead, Aisling chose to practice her restraint, turning and following Peter to the kitchen.

"So," she said, taking a seat at the kitchen table, "What is for breakfast today, anyway?"

Peter shrugged. "I haven't figured that out yet," he replied as he searched though the cupboards, being careful so he didn't aggravate his injured hand. "I think we've got some bacon around here somewhere, if it's any good, that is. What do you think about bacon and eggs?"

"Bacon and eggs sounds lovely," she said as she rubbed her stomach absently. She actually felt a little nauseous, but for some reason, she couldn't figure out why. "But what are we going to do if you can't find the bacon, or if it's gone bad?"

"Then we have cereal," Peter said, turning to look at her. "Which is becoming more likely by the minute." He frowned. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked, "You're looking a little green."

"No, I'm fine," Aisling replied, smiling weakly. "I think." Her smile brightened. "You're such a sweetheart, Peter. Always taking care of me."

"I like taking care of my friends," he said, "Because they take care of me, and I think that should be returned in kind."

Aisling grinned. "Ye never cease to amaze me, Peter. I always knew you were smart, no matter how hard you try to hide it, but I never knew ye felt that way!"

"Why shouldn't I feel that way?" he asked, "You're all my friends, and I want you all to be happy, so I'll do whatever it takes to make it happen."

"That's nice," she replied, feeling someone putting their hands on her shoulders. "Hey Mike," she said without looking up.

He drew her hair back as he leaned down and kissed her neck. "Hey," he greeted, "How'd you know it was me?"

"I know what ye feel like," she said, breathing in deeply. "And now, I know how ye smell. I like it."

Mike grinned. "I'm glad to know you do."

Peter looked confused. "What are you two talking about?" he asked, "Did something happen last night?"

"Nothing ye need to worry yourself about," Aisling reassured him. "Just forget about it, sweetie."

"Yeah, Pete," Mike agreed, "It's nothing."

"All right," Peter said with a nod, choosing not to argue. Something deep down told him that Mike and Aisling's 'nothing' was a special kind of 'nothing', the sort of 'nothing' that he had no place in questioning. He'd been worried that his two friends were taking things too fast, but he knew that they were both adults, and as adults, they could take their relationship whatever speed they wanted to take it. He opened his mouth to say something, deciding to change the subject, but he stopped when there came a sudden pounding on the front door.

Mike and Peter exchanged a knowing look. "It's Babbitt," they said at the same time.

"Your landlord?" Aisling asked, turning and looking up at Mike. "What does he want?"

"I can think of a couple of things," Mike growled, "Neither of them good."

"Well we're not goin' to get in trouble, are we? He doesn't have rules about guests stayin' the night, does he?"

"He doesn't," said Peter, "But it might not be a good idea if he sees you."

"Why not?"

"He doesn't have rules about guys stayin' the night," Mike explained, "But he does have rules about girls stayin' the night."

Aisling flinched as Mr. Babbitt pounded on the door again. "Oh." She pointed to Peter and Davy's bedroom door. "Do ye want me to hide in there?"

"No."

She looked at him in confusion. "What do ye mean 'no'?"

"Ais, Davy's still in the bathroom. If he comes out and tries to go straight to his room while you're in there..."

Aisling made a face as she stood from her seat, beginning to understand what he was talking about. "I might get an eyeful." The look on her face changed from a grimace to a cheeky grin. "Now, ye see, if it were a different Monkee," she cast a meaningful glance at Mike, "And I liked what I saw," she curled his fingers in her hair, "Then I might not have minded the possibility of gettin' an eyeful!" Mr. Babbit pounded the door again. "I'll go upstairs then," she sighed, "But I'll hide myself as much as I can and watch from the landing." Before Mike could protest, Aisling kissed him, then made her way upstairs.

"NESMITH!" Babbitt roared though the front door, "IF YOU DON'T ANSWER THE DOOR IN FIVE MINUTES, I'LL..."

"You'll what?" Mike asked in annoyance when he answered the door. "Evict us?"

"Don't tempt me, Nesmith, " Babbitt threatened. "You boys are behind on your rent. AGAIN!"

"But we paid you already!" Peter protested.

Babbitt snorted. "That was for December... last year!"

"Look," Mike began, "We've got a gig coming up and we'll pay you as soon as we get paid, all right?"

Luckily, Babbitt seemed to accept this. "I expect the rent, in full, as soon as you've got it, or you're all out of here!"

With the threat of eviction lingering over Mike and Peter's heads, Mr. Babbitt turned on his heel and left. Aisling stood from her hiding place, gazing down at them from the landing with a look of anguish in her eyes. She couldn't understand why the man thought he needed to make threats just to get his money. From what little she knew about Mr. Babbitt, it was like he took pleasure in putting others down, particularly anyone younger than him, who wore their hair long and wore beads and generally looked different. She didn't hate him, because the notion that she shouldn't hate anyone had been ingrained in her mind ever since she could remember. Instead she thought about what she would say, if she could offer her friends any help to pay their rent, to help them get it up to date so they wouldn't become homeless. But she realised that the issue with the Monkees' rent could quickly be resolved when they played their gig, the gig where she was going to take Peter's place.

Mike met her at the foot of the tornado staircase. "Is he always like that?" she asked quietly, "Does he always threaten to throw you out when you can't pay your rent?"

"Yeah," he replied, "But we're used to it by now, and we usually get it fixed before he can carry out his threats." He kissed her gently. "You don't need to be concerned about it, babe. You worry about what we're goin' to do when we get to Kansas."

Aisling frowned. "Thanks for remindin' me," she said. She smiled slightly. "But at least I've got you to distract me when things become too overwhelmin'." She sighed. "But it does put things into perspective for me, though."

"How?"

"Whether or not Mr. Babbitt gets his rent payment is less important than what we have to do in Kansas, at least to me," she replied. "But at the same time," she continued, when Mike began to protest, "Making sure Mr. Babbitt does get your rent is just as important to you as helping me is important to you."

After what had seemed like an eternity, Davy finally came out of the bathroom. "Was Mr. Babbitt just here?" he asked.

"Yeah," said Peter, "He says we're behind again, and he made his usual threats."

"He did?"

"He did."

Davy nodded glumly. "Well, I'm done in there," he said, pointing to the bathroom door with his thumb. "So you or Micky can go next, if you want. I'm going to get dressed."

"Right."

Micky stuck his head out of his bedroom. "Did someone say the bathroom's free?"

"Yes, Micky," Peter called, confirming Micky's suspicions. "Go ahead."

With a whoop of joy, Micky raced out of his bedroom and slid down the banister of the tornado staircase, nearly knocking Aisling down. Or he would have knocked her down, if Mike hadn't pulled her out of the way at the last minute. He ran into the bathroom, ignoring the death glare Mike gave him on his way past.

Mike was not impressed. "Geez, Micky!" he cried, "Watch where you're goin, will you!?!"

"Sorry Mike!"

Aisling smiled. "Ye got me out of the way in time, love. I'm fine. Ye don't need to bite his head off!"

"Sorry Ais," he sighed. "I just don't want to see you get hurt, even by accident."

"I know," she replied, kissing him tenderly. "Come on, let's help Peter with breakfast before he destroys the kitchen."

Mike nodded. "And then, afterwards, we're goin' to take a walk on the beach. Just the two of us."

"I'd like that."

"Then," he continued, "We'll have another rehearsal."

Aisling sighed. "And then you'll take me home?"

"And then I'll take you home."

* * *

The day went by quickly, far too quickly for Mike and Aisling's liking, and, although she didn't really want to admit it, Aisling was beginning to dread the trip home. She knew it had to happen eventually, but the thought of being separated from Mike, even for just one night, made her miserable. It wasn't that Aisling didn't love her mother, or that she didn't want to see her, but she felt like something was going to happen that night, another dream, or maybe a nightmare, neither of which she needed or wanted. Mike picked up on this while driving Aisling home, knowing that whatever affected her also affected him.

"Are you okay, babe?" he asked, making sure he kept his eyes on the road.

Aisling shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "This is probably goin' to make me sound like a terrible daughter, but.."

"But what?"

"I don't want to go home," she admitted, moving closer to him, "I want to stay with ye. With everythin' that's happened these past few days, I feel safer when I'm in your arms." She looked at him sadly. "Does that make me a terrible daughter?"

"No," Mike replied, "Of course it doesn't."

"Then why do I feel so scared about leaving ye?"

Mike frowned, trying to think of the best way to answer. "I don't know," he said at last.

"Oh."

The rest of the drive was spent in silence.

When they pulled up along the sidewalk out the front of Aisling's house, Aisling wondered if she should ask Mike to come inside with her and meet her mother properly. He'd told her that he spoke to her mother on the phone, so they at least knew what each other sounded like, but she thought it might help set her mind at ease about coming home if she kept Mike with her for as long as time would allow them.

"Well, here we are," said Mike, bringing the car to a stop. "You're home."

"Yeah," Aisling agreed, "Guess I am." She took a deep breath, deciding that if she was going to ask Mike about meeting her mother, she needed to do it now. "Do ye want to come inside?" she asked, "Meet me Mam?"

Mike looked at her in surprise. "Are you sure about that?"

"Of course I'm sure!" she cried, "Do ye think I'd be askin' if I wasn't?"

"All right. I'll come."

With a squeak of delight, she leant forward and kissed him, happy that she'd get to stay with him just a little longer. He accepted the kiss eagerly, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. Neither of them realised that Bridget was watching from the window, a pleasant, loving smile on her face. She always knew that Aisling had feelings for the wool-hatted Monkee, but she also knew that her darling daughter was completely and utterly terrified that he'd reject her. So seeing them together, looking completely and totally in love with each other, was the most wonderful surprise she could have ever received. Whatever had brought them together, Bridget was glad that it did.

"Come on," said Aisling as they ended the kiss. "It's time you met my Mam."

Mike got out of the car, then turned around held out his hand to Aisling. "May I help you step out of the car, my lady?" he asked.

Aisling giggled, and took Mike's offered hand. "Aye, kind sir, you may," she replied, allowing him to help her out of the MonkeeMobile. Once Aisling remembered to pick up her backpack from the middle bench seat, the two of them were ready to go to the front door.

When Bridget answered the door, Aisling couldn't help feeling a little nervous, since it was the first time that her mother would see them together before they went away. She'd introduced former boyfriends to Bridget in the past, and those meetings had gone smoothly, but then those relationships had fallen apart soon afterwards with little warning or any reason why, although she did suspect that all the time she spent with Jesse and with the Monkees made her past boyfriends jealous enough that they decided breaking things off was the easiest option.

"Hi Mam," she greeted, smiling nervously, "Mike told me he called ye. I hope ye weren't worried about me last night."

Bridget smiled. "I wasn't worried, Agra, at least not after he told me you'd fallen asleep and didn't want to disturb ye." She stepped out of the doorway and started to wave them inside. "Come in, both of ye, before it gets cold."

Aisling grinned. "Ye always say that, Mam, but it doesn't get THAT cold in California!" She laughed. "Besides, it's Spring!"

"Then explain to me why he," Bridget pointed to Mike, "wears that woollie hat, when it doesn't get that cold in California?"

"Oh, that's easy, Bridget," said Mike. "My Mom made this hat for me, before I left Texas and moved here, " he explained, "I wear it to remind me of her."

Bridget smiled. "That's sweet of you."

"Aye, it is," Aisling agreed, moving closer to Mike. "I can hope someone feels the same way about me one day."

"We'll just have to work on that, won't we?"

Bridget noticed Aisling turn away, blushing madly, but with a wide smile on her face. It didn't take much to figure out what she was thinking about, but it worried Bridget that they might be taking things too fast, not thinking about the consequences of their actions before they did anything they might regret later.

Aisling took a deep breath, then looked up at her mother. "Wouldn't it be better if we continued this inside?" she asked, "I didn't think we'd spend so much time chatterin' in the doorway."

Bridget nodded. "Of course."

A few hours later, after making up a plausible story explaining the events of the past few days, carefully omitting anything that Bridget might think a little strange, the time came for Mike to leave. With a heavy heart, Aisling lead him to the door, following him outside. Despite the new plateau they'd reached in their somewhat brief relationship, the air between Mike and Aisling was unusually tense and stale.

"I'll see ye tomorrow, then?" she asked, drawing circles in the dirt with the toe of her shoe.

Mike nodded. "Yeah," he replied, "The doctor wants to see us about Peter's hand in the morning, then we're goin' home to rehearse afterwards. Then there's the gig tomorrow night."

"Then the trip."

"Yeah."

"So, do ye want me to meet you back at the Pad?"

"Actually, I was wonderin' if you wanted to come with us. To the doctor's, I mean."

She nodded. "Okay."

He smiled. "Good."

"Kiss me. Now." She took a step towards him, a pleading look in her eyes. "Before I fall apart where I stand."

Mike relaxed, walking towards her, and closing the gap between them. Without a moment of hesitation, he took Aisling in his arms and kissed her. Although they knew they'd see each other in the morning, the few hours that would pass during the night seemed like an eternity, and they held on to each other tightly. Neither of them wanted to let go, like the ground itself would split open and swallow them up if they did.

"I'll see ye tomorrow," Aisling whispered as she broke the kiss. "I love you."

"I love you too."

Kissing her one last time, Mike turned and headed back to the MonkeeMobile. As she watched him leave, Aisling slowly walked to the curb, the warmth of Mike's kiss lingering on her lips, and sat down. With every minute, the trip to Kansas was drawing nearer and nearer, and, even though Mike and the others were going to be there with her, she couldn't help feeling terrified. Anything could happen, and she was going to try her best to not let anyone, or anything, stand in her way.

She just hoped she'd be able to live up to her expectations.

* * *

The clock in the hall chimed midnight as Aisling settled down to sleep. It felt strange to sleep alone, especially so soon after being with Mike, so it took a while to get comfortable, at first, but once she drifted off to sleep everything felt better. At least it did, until she began to dream.

Aisling found herself standing in a bedroom, wearing a gown of the most luxurious green velvet. She looked around for anything that could give her a clue to where she was, but, despite how hard she tried, she couldn't find anything useful. She felt a odd sense of familiarity about the room, like she'd been there before, but she couldn't figure out how.

"Are you all right, Radha?"

'Radha?' she thought as she turned around, 'Who on earth would call me... Oh dear lord!'

"Radha, you look like you've seen a ghost!" said Gareth, leaning against the doorframe. "Are you all right?" he asked again.

"I'm, uh, I'm fine," Aisling replied, when the shock wore off and she finally found her voice again. "Why shouldn't I be?"

"Because you're looking at me like my head's fallen off."

Aisling tried hard to suppress the urge to laugh, failing miserably when she dissolved into a fit of giggles. She collapsed on to the bed, still giggling and wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. "I'm sorry, Gareth," she apologised, "I don't know what came over me!"

"It's all right, dear one," Gareth replied, walking into the room and sitting down beside her on the bed. "You're probably just worried about the next shipment of 'cargo'."

She swallowed. "Aye, that's it. I'm just worried about the next shipment of 'cargo'."

"It's understandable that your worried," he continued. "What with the shipments going missing every so often."

Aisling frowned. This revelation about the 'cargo' going missing was new to her, and new did not necessarily mean good. "The shipments are going missing?"

Gareth looked at her in surprise. "Yes, they've been going missing for months now!" He frowned. "Don't you remember?" he asked, "You were completely distraught after the first one."

"Of course I was. I must've forgotten about it."

"Now that, my love, is not like you."

Aisling decided to try something. "Do we know where the shipments are going?"

"No, we don't," Gareth replied with a sigh. "But Finn's trying to find out what's going on, so hopefully we should have some news soon."

For some reason this did not fill Aisling with a lot of confidence. "Finn's trying to find the shipments?"

Gareth nodded. "He's been making enquiries about them ever since the first one disappeared."

"How many shipments have disappeared since the first one did?"

"Three or four. They're disappearing so fast it's getting difficult to keep track of them."

Aisling stood abruptly. She realised if she wanted to learn more, then she needed to talk to Finn. "Do ye know where he is?" she asked. "Please, Gareth, I really need to know!"

"Don't tell me you forgot that too!"

"Forget what, Gareth?"

"He's not here, Radha, he's taking another shipment to Mexico!"

Aisling's heart sank. "Do ye know when he'll be back?"

"Not for a few days," Gareth replied, standing up beside her. "What's so urgent you need see him?"

Aisling froze, trying desperately to think of a good excuse. 'Why do I need to talk to Finn?' she thought to herself, 'Because I need to find out about the missing slaves.' She sighed. "I guess I just miss him," she lied, hoping that she sounded the slightest bit convincing, "I didn't realise he left again so soon."

Gareth looked at her suspiciously. "Are you sure you're all right?" he asked again, "You've been acting very strange today." He grinned. "Maybe this will make you feel better," he said, then he kissed her.

Aisling resisted as first, then melted into Gareth's arms, kissing him in return. 'He even kisses like Michael,' she thought, starting to feel a little guilty. 'I shouldn't be doing this, I'm not his wife! Not now, at any rate!' As hard as she tried to rationalise what she was doing, Aisling couldn't help feeling like she was betraying Mike just being in the room with Gareth, let alone kissing him! 'This is just a dream,' the little voice in her head told her, 'This is just a dream and you're going to wake up at any minute and everything's going to be fine.' Ending the kiss, Aisling stepped back, trying to put enough distance between Gareth and herself to avoid the temptation of kissing him again.

"I... I..." she stammered, "I am not your wife, Gareth. I'm not Radha."

Gareth stared at her, folding his arms in front of his chest. "Are you playing jokes on me again?"

Aisling inwardly groaned. It made sense to her that Radha would play silly jokes on people, because she would often do the same, particularly if Micky or Jesse were encouraging her. "I'm not playing jokes," she insisted, "Please, you've got to believe me when I say I'm not your wife!"

"So, if you're not Radha," Gareth said with a sigh, deciding to play along, still thinking she was playing jokes. "Who are you?"

"My name is Aisling, and, uh, in a roundabout way, I'm a friend of your wife," she explained. "See, she came to me, I mean, I heard her voice at the library, and since then I've been through quite a lot of weird things."

"Like what?"

"I, uh, I see ghosts, and not too long ago I had a dream. That dream showed me things about Radha, and Finn, and you, and while I don't know the whole story, I know that what I'm getting is important."

Gareth looked intrigued. "The whole story?" he asked, "The whole story of what?"

"About your de - " she began, stopping herself before she could say, "About your death." Instead, she looked down at the floor and said, "I can't tell you. It wouldn't be right if you knew."

"What don't you want me to know?"

"I can't tell you!" she repeated angrily, "I'm sorry, Gareth, but I can't!"

Aisling closed her eyes, willing the dream to come to an end with all her might. She thought about Mike, and the gig, and everything waiting for her out in the real world. When she opened her eyes again to find Gareth still standing before her, a bemused expression on his face, she almost burst into tears. Hitching up her skirts, she took off at a run, to Gareth's surprise, never stopping once for breath until she made her way outside to the hill that Radha had shown her in her previous dream.

"WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO, RADHA?" she yelled to the sky. "WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?" Aisling sank to the ground, muttering to herself, "I can't do this, I can't do this, I can't do this!"

"What can't ye do?" a soft voice asked, a hand gently shaking her shoulder. "Aisling, darlin', what can't ye do?"

Aisling took a deep breath, then looked up as the world around her shifted out of focus, until she saw her mother swim into view, hovering over her with a concerned look in her eyes. She sat up, realising that she was awake, the dream over for the time being.

"I woke up and heard ye shoutin'!" Bridget said. "I found ye tossin' and turnin', so I thought I should wake ye up to see if ye were okay."

"It's okay, Mam, I had a bad dream or nightmare, I think," Aisling smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I'll be fine. Ye don't need to worry."

Bridget nodded reluctantly. "All right, Agra, go back to sleep. I'll see ye in the mornin'."

Once she was gone, Aisling lay back on her bed and closed her eyes, trying to get back to sleep, but all she could think about was the new information she learned from her dream. Slaves had been going missing, about three or four shipments, according to Gareth. Aisling wondered if Radha, Gareth, and Finn's deaths were connected to the slave's disappearances, and, if they were connected, how were they connected?

With a heavy heart, Aisling rolled over and slowly drifted off to sleep, the questions turning over in her mind left answered.

But they wouldn't remain that way for too much longer...

* * *

The next day, after Peter's doctor's appointment, Aisling and the Monkees gathered for one final rehearsal before the gig later that night. Although Peter still couldn't play yet, he was pleased to find out that the worst of his cut had healed enough that the stitches could come out, then the rest of it could be covered by a couple of band-aids until it was completely healed.

"That's great, Peter," said Aisling when he told her. "I won't regret being out of a job when you're all better. It wouldn't be 'The Monkees' without you, after all."

Peter blushed. "Thanks, Ais. But you'll still do a good job, even if it's just for tonight."

"Well, I know she can do it," said Mike, sitting down beside Aisling on the edge of the bandstand.

This time it was Aisling's turn to blush. "Ye didn't need to say that!" she cried, before adding, "Besides, I wasn't about to let you fellas give up your gig because Peter hurt himself."

Mike grinned. "And I'm glad we didn't have to." He stood and picked up his guitar. "But if we're goin' to be ready for tonight, we gotta have one more rehearsal."

Micky groaned. "Awe, Mike! Do we HAVE to rehearse everything again?" he whined.

"Yeah, Mick. We gotta make sure we stay on top of things, don't we?"

"I guess so."

"And we need to work out the set list, don't we?"

Micky sighed. "Yeah, that too."

Aisling stood up, kissed Mike on the cheek, and then took her place behind the keyboard. "So, what are we goin' to start with today, oh fearless leader?" She glanced at Micky, who had his mouth open as if to say something, then she added "And if ye say 'I'm a Believer' one more time, I will shoot ye, Micky."

"And I'll let her," said Mike. "So I'd be careful if I were you, Mick."

"You two are no fun!" Micky grumbled.

"Oh we're fun, Mick," Aisling said, grinning and sharing a knowing look with Mike, "But we know when to rein ourselves in!"

"And I don't?"

"No, Micky," said Peter, "You don't."

Micky turned to Davy. "I know how to behave, don't I?" he asked.

Davy smirked. "Of course you know how to behave, man! You know how to behave badly!"

Aisling laughed. "I swear, Micky, sometimes you act like a little kid!"

"But I'm a GOOD little kid, aren't I?"

"Sometimes."

"Anyway," said Mike, trying to steer the conversation back to what song they were start with. He looked at Aisling, "What do you think we should start with, babe?"

"Why are ye askin' me? It's your band, your choice."

Mike nodded. "In that case, how about one of mine? Papa Gene's Blues?"

Micky grinned. "Sounds good to me!"

Mike counted off and the group launched into the song. The lyrics took on a new meaning for Aisling, before then she would have just interpreted them as a man talking about his love for a girl, how he made her feel when they were together and how he knew she loved him in return, but now... now Aisling knew, in some small way, that he was talking about her. She looked at him while he sang, and smiled when their eyes met, their voices blending as they sang the chorus. They sang to each other, pouring all of their love into the music.

"That sounded really great, guys!" Peter cried when they finished, "You've got to play that one first!"

Aisling smiled. "I agree, that was the best I've heard you sing it, Mike."

"Thanks Ais," Mike replied. He put down his guitar and walked over to her. "Guess I was just waitin' for the right girl to come along," he whispered in her ear. "You helped give my song more meaning."

"I'm glad I could help," she whispered back. "I love you."

A few hours later, the rehearsal was over. Peter went to change his band-aids, while Micky and Davy went to the beach, leaving Mike and Aisling together in the living room. They sat together on the edge of the bandstand, discussing Aisling's latest dream.

"He told you that shipments of slaves were going missing?" Mike asked.

"Yeah," Aisling replied. "I'm beginning to wonder if Radha, Finn and Gareth's deaths and the disappearing slaves are connected."

"Maybe someone thought you needed to know about it," said Peter as he came out of the bathroom. "So when we get to Kansas, you can find out what the connection is."

Aisling frowned. "That's probably what I'm goin' to have to do," she said, "But I'm afraid of what I'm goin' to find."

Mike put his arm around her. "You don't need to worry about that, Ais, Peter and I are goin' to protect you."

"I know ye will, both of ye, I don't doubt it for a minute that ye wouldn't."

"So what was Gareth like?" asked Peter. "Was he anything like Michael?"

Aisling swallowed. "He was... nice," she replied. "A total gentlemen. I understand why Radha loved him. He knew her so well." She rest her head on Mike's shoulder and took him by the hand. "It made me want you actually, because he reminded me of you so much."

"You think I'm a gentleman?" Mike asked.

"Aye, but that's because your Mom raised ye well."

Peter looked thoughtful. "Why does this feel like the calm before the storm?" he asked. "How come it feels like everything's about to wrong?"

"Probably because it is," Aisling replied. "This is probably goin' to be the last time we're together, happy as clams, before everything starts falling down around our ears."

"We'll be there to catch you, Ais, when it does," said Peter. The determination in his eyes surprised Aisling, so much so, that she felt no doubts about his intention to live up to everything he said. "All of us."

Aisling smiled. "Thanks, Peter," she said, "I just hope you're right."

And, for all their sakes, she really did hope he was.

* * *

It was the night of the gig, and Aisling was nervous. She was terrified that something was going to go wrong, despite all the rehearsals, and despite all the help that Peter had given her to prepare her for the show. She sat in the dressing room, staring at herself in the mirror and chewing her nails. But it wasn't just the gig making her nervous. It was the fact that with every passing moment, the trip to Kansas was looming nearer and nearer. She picked up a tube of lipstick and started to apply it, dabbing it carefully so it didn't smudge. Normally she loved putting on make up and making herself look good, because it was a necessary part of her life when it came to her ballroom dancing, but to do it at the moment made the action feel more like a chore. She grabbed a couple of tissues from the box underneath the mirror and blotted her lips with them to get rid of the excess lipstick. She looked up when she heard the sound of a door opening and closing come from behind.

"Hey Aisling," Mike greeted, walking over and wrapping his arms around her. "Ready for your debut as a honorary Monkee?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," Aisling replied, "I'm a bit scared, but that's normal, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it's normal. But you don't have to worry, 'cause the fellas and I are goin' to be right there with you."

"Where are the others?"

"They're setting up. Peter's trying to help, but we've told him to be careful."

"That's good, we don't need him getting hurt again." Aisling giggled. "I didn't agree to multiple engagements, thank ye very much!"

Mike pressed a kiss to her hair. "You don't really mean that, do you?"

"It depends what kind of engagement we're talkin' about," Aisling replied, smiling shyly. "But I'm not goin' to press the issue."

"Have you had any more ideas about your dream?"

"I still don't know what to make of it. I think our best chance of learnin' anythin' is to get to that winery."

"What do you think we'll find when we get there?"

Aisling sighed. "I don't know, Mike. I really don't know. I've gone through all the books I borrowed from the library... TWICE! And not once do any of them mention slaves disappearin'!"

"Do you think there might have been some sort of cover-up?"

"If there was, then it's a pretty good one. There's absolutely nothing about it."

"It must be important though, because you wouldn't have had that dream if it wasn't."

"That's true."

"Anyway, the fellas are waitin' for us to help them set up, so we better go."

Aisling nodded. "Okay."

She followed Mike out to the stage area, where Micky and Davy were setting up the drum-kit and the microphones. Peter, on the other hand, was setting up the keyboard next to his bass guitar. He was putting the sheet music on the stand so it was easier for Aisling to see them. When he was satisfied, he turned, smiling when he saw Aisling and Mike approach them. He waved, and Aisling could see the beginnings of a scar on his hand where the stitches had been.

"Hey Ais," Peter greeted, "You look great!"

Aisling did a little twirl, showing off the dress she'd chosen to wear. "Thank you, I thought this was the only thing I could wear that matched your shirts," she replied. "I didn't want to look out of place, not anymore than I already do."

"You won't look out of place!" said Micky, "Not when all the girls are going to crowd around Davy!"

"But I'll still look out of place, Micky, because I'll be the only girl in the room NOT crowdin' around Davy. I'll be sittin' behind the keyboard, checkin' out the funny, yet ridiculously handsome, guitarist wearin' the wool-hat, and thinkin' that I'm the luckiest girl in the world!"

Davy snorted. "So what am I?" he asked, "Chopped Liver?"

"Of course not!" Aisling replied with a laugh, "It's just that I only have eyes for Mike. I have nothing against ye what so ever!"

"Want to test that theory?"

"Not on your life, midget."

Peter, Micky and Mike looked at each other in stunned silence, then burst out laughing at the way Aisling had answered Davy's proposal. Sensing this, Aisling turned to face them, smiling and taking a small bow.

She turned and looked at Davy apologetically. "Sorry Davy, but I'm nothing like the girls that are interested in ye. I never have, and I probably never will be, so don't feel bad when I tell ye I'm not interested in ye, it's just that I'm interested, very interested," she turned and gazed up at Mike lovingly, "in someone else."

"Yeah," Davy replied, "I know. I was just testing you. Because we've all been hurt before, the fellas and I, and I just wanted to be sure your intentions were good."

Aisling looked stunned. "Ye were serious about testin' me? Even after ye told me that ye were going to try and get Mike and I together?" Her face darkened with anger. "I thought ye were me friend, Davy."

"I am!"

"Obviously not a very good one!"

"Aisling, I... I'm sorry."

"Are ye? Are ye really?" she scoffed. "Ye didn't trust me, Davy! For all I know, ye still don't!" She took a deep breath, trying her hardest not to burst into tears in front of the guys. 'What is wrong with you!?!' the little voice in her head yelled. 'First the sound and smell of food makes you nauseous, now you're getting angry about the tiniest most insignificant thing! Sure he tested you, but it was only because he didn't want Mike to get hurt. You both want the same thing. You both want Mike to be happy, and you both know that the one thing that's going to make him happy... is you.' Aisling swallowed. "I'm sorry I went and bit your head off, Davy. I've been feelin' strange the past couple of days, with everythin' goin' on, so sometimes I say things I don't mean."

Davy shook his head. "It's okay, Ais, I shouldn't have done it. You were right to get angry."

"No, I wasn't." Aisling turned to Mike, "Em, I think I'm goin' to go back to the dressin' room for a bit. Could ye come get me when ye want me?"

Mike looked concerned, but nodded in agreement. "Okay, Ais. I'll come get you when we're ready for the first set."

"Thanks, love," she replied, "I'd kiss ye, but I don't want to ruin me make-up." She grinned. "But that just means it'll be better later!"

"I bet it will, Ais," he said, kissing her on the forehead.

When Aisling got back to the dressing room, the first thing she did was run straight to the bathroom. She couldn't understand why she suddenly began to feel nauseated, but as soon as it happened, she knew she needed to get to the toilet as quickly as she could. "It was just somethin' I ate," she said, trying to convince herself it was the truth, "It was somethin' I ate that didn't agree with me, that's all." Spending her time hugging the toilet bowl was not how she envisioned part of her first, and only, performance as a member of the Monkees, so Aisling couldn't help feeling awful in more ways than one. Grabbing some toilet paper from the roll nearby, she wiped her face, knowing that she'd need to reapply her lipstick before Mike came back for her. She felt someone hold back her hair, as the urge to be sick overcame her once again.

"Are you okay, Aisling?" Micky asked quietly, holding her long hair away from her face. "I thought you might need someone to do this. I have got three sisters, you know."

Aisling gulped. Her first instinct was to ask him what he was doing following a girl into the bathroom, particularly when the girl in question was not his sister, or his girlfriend. Instead she chose to ask, "Are you insinuatin' somethin', Mick?"

"Well, I think you're pregnant," he replied. "If that's what you think I mean."

"If I'm pregnant, and I'm not... at least I hope I'm not..."

"I'll do anything I can to help, Ais," Micky said. "Just tell me what you want me to do."

Aisling thought for a moment, considering his words. "Don't tell Mike," she begged. "That's all I want. Because I don't want him to think anything bad about me, and I'm scared that he'll think I planned things this way if we find out that I AM pregnant."

"You sure we should keep this a secret, Aisling?"

"Only if it's necessary," she replied, grabbing more toilet paper to wipe her mouth with, then turning to look up at him, "Look, as soon as we get back from Kansas, you can take me to the doctor's and get the proper test done. We'll figure out where we go from there." She looked at him sadly, "Just don't tell Mike."

Micky looked down at Aisling, his loyalty torn between both of his friends. "All right," he said reluctantly, "I won't tell him, not until you want me to, and not until we know for sure."

Aisling stood as she wiped her mouth. "Thanks, Micky. For everything."

"But I haven't done anything yet."

"Ye will. Maybe not now, but ye will."

Silently, Aisling followed Micky from the bathroom and back to the dressing room. While Micky waited, she took a few moments to reapply her lipstick and touch up her make-up so she didn't look as worn out as she felt, then she sat down and closed her eyes, taking deep breaths and hoping everything, the gig, and the trip, turned out okay. She opened her eyes when there was a knock on the door. "Come in," she called.

It was Mike. "Hey babe, we're just about ready to start."

"Okay, thanks love."

Mike frowned. "Are you okay?"

"She's/I'm fine!" Aisling and Micky cried at the same time.

"I'm fine now," Aisling repeated, "I was feelin' a little bit sick, so I just needed time to breathe. Micky decided to keep me company."

"Yeah, that's all," Micky agreed.

Mike looked at the two of them suspiciously, like there was something they were trying very hard not to tell him. "Is there something else you want to tell me?"

Aisling frowned. "No, not right now."

"Okay, but," he sat down beside her, then kissed her on the cheek, "Let me know if you start to feel sick again, so we can have a break whenever you need it."

"Hopefully I won't need it, but..." Aisling smiled, "All right. I will." She stood. "Now, I seem to remember that there's a diminutive percussionist, and an adorable bassist out there, waiting for us to join them." She held out her hand to Mike, "Shall we?"

Mike stood and took Aisling's offered hand. "Let's go, c'mon Mick."

Micky nodded. "Okay, Mike."

The three of them walked back to the stage area, ready to perform the best gig of their lives.

* * *

The gig went off without a hitch. While he wasn't able play his bass, or play the keyboard, Peter still managed to have an active role by singing back-up and acting as page-turner for Aisling during the songs she didn't know from memory. For some reason, he couldn't help feeling like Aisling was a little distracted by something. She was still playing and singing like there was nothing wrong, but there was something that was making her hold back a little, which was disconcerting, especially after how open she'd been about almost everything that had happened to her during the past few days.

He wondered if he should ask her about it, in private, but he realised that she'd probably end up spending the rest of the evening with Mike, talking about what they were going to find when they got to Kansas and wherever Aisling needed them to go. After the gig was over, and when everyone, including Jesse, who had joined them after their last set, was ready to go, they packed everything they had into the MonkeeMobile, and soon they were on their way, beginning the three day journey to Kansas.

"What did you tell your Mom about the trip?" Mike asked as they drove. "I don't want her to think that anything bad might happen to you while we're gone."

Aisling sighed. "I told her that this trip is a research trip for my history essay, and that you guys offered to come with me so I wasn't alone, and so you could look after me, if the necessity arose."

"Let's just hope that it doesn't."

"I know you'll protect me," Aisling replied, smiling slightly. "I know ye all will."

"What do you think we'll find when we get to the winery, Ais?" asked Jesse.

"Well," she began, "from what I've read, it's still a working winery, but it's also a museum dedicated to the work Radha, Gareth and Finn did with the Underground Railroad. I think they have guestrooms too, so we'll be able to stay there while we figure out what's goin' on." She frowned. "As to what we'll find, I don't know. I've seen Radha's ghost, so I suspect that we'll encounter Finn and Gareth's ghosts at some point." Aisling shivered. "And I am not looking forward to THAT, let me tell ye."

"Neither am I," said Mike, "Who knows what might happen if you DO see them."

"For all we know they might be trapped there, I mean their bodies won't be there, obviously, but if they died at the winery, their ghosts might be trapped there somehow. Unfinished business."

Peter swallowed. "And you have to figure out what that unfinished business is?"

Aisling nodded. "Uh huh. Among other things."

Jesse raised an eyebrow. "What other things?"

"I can't say," she replied. "Not yet, at least."

The conversation tapered off after this, and, after deciding that they'd switch drivers every so often while the others slept, they continued to drive through the night.

* * *

As Mike drove, Peter found the smooth movement of the car sending him to sleep, and, like Aisling and Mike before him, he began to dream. He dreamt that he was standing in a cellar, surrounded by barrels and other winemaking paraphernalia. He looked around, realising that he wasn't alone. A beautiful girl with long red hair, teal green eyes, and wearing a long white gown, stood across the room from him. She smiled at him, then walked towards him and pulled him into a hug.

"So you finally made it," she said, "Just like the others."

"What others?" he asked, even though he had a fair idea of who she meant.

"You know who I'm talking about."

"Aisling and Mike."

The girl smiled again. "Do you know who I am?"

"Yes."

"Name me then. I won't hurt you."

Peter swallowed. "You're Radha Crane, and you're Aisling O'Callaghan."

"Correct. On both counts."

"Why'd you bring me here?"

Radha shook her head. "I didn't bring you here. You're starting to remember the places and things that were important to you when you were..."

"Your brother."

"That's right."

"But how come this stuff is coming to me now?"

"Because you need to know. When you get to my former home, a dangerous game will be set in motion, and all the players must know their parts."

"What's my part?" he asked. "What am I supposed to do in all this?"

Radha looked at him sadly. "Your part, while not the biggest, is most certainly the hardest. At some point during your stay in my former home, I don't know when, you will lose yourself and another shall take your place, assuming your form. When this happens, you will do terrible things. You can't stop them from happening so you must fight your replacement at every opportunity."

Peter looked at her in alarm. "What am I going to do!?!" he asked, "I'm not going to hurt my friends, am I?"

"You will hurt your friends, unfortunately, but the damage can be minimal as long as you fight. That's all you can do."

"Can I warn my friends?"

"No. They need to go through this just as much as you do." She smiled sadly. "I'm sorry, Peter, but it's a necessary evil."

"Isn't there anything I can do to protect my friends before it happens?"

'There's nothing you can do. Fighting him is your only option."

"Fight who, Radha?" Peter asked, blinking back tears, "Who am I supposed to fight?"

"Me," said a voice behind him. The voice sounded identical to Peter's own, except there were the faintest traces of an Irish accent as well.

Radha's eyes widened, as if she didn't expect to see the owner of the voice quite so soon, if at all. "Finn," she breathed, "What are you doing here?"

Finn smirked. "Thought I'd check out my temporary home before I move in." He walked around Peter, circling him like a vulture circled a carcass, his bottom lip curling into a snarl. "He does look like me, so I guess I can work that to my advantage. At least I won't have to work on gaining their trust."

"I won't let you take him," Radha said angrily, "Not now. Not before it's absolutely necessary."

"Don't I get a say in this?" Peter asked, his eyes wide with fear. "I don't want to hurt my friends!"

"Don't worry about that," Finn replied, a cruel smile forming on his lips, "You won't be the one hurting your friends."

Peter relaxed a little.

"No, the one hurting your friends will be me. In your body. While you watch."

Peter turned to Radha, looking at her with tears in his brown eyes. "You lied to me. You said I wasn't going to hurt my friends!"

"I have been nothing but honest with you, Peter," she replied. "And so is he. That's why you have to fight him, to decrease the damage that he will cause."

Finn clucked his tongue disapprovingly. "Telling him to fight, Rara? Now that's not fair!"

"You think warning him about you and what you're going to make him do isn't fair!?!" Radha cried. "How, in heaven's name, do you know what's fair and what isn't!?!"

"I don't," he replied. "But I'm not particularly inclined to argue." He sniffed. "Not with you, anyway."

"So leave then," Radha snapped. "Leave Peter alone for the time being, so I can prepare him for your..." she looked at Peter with his hands in front of his face, shielding himself from their sight, "occupation."

Finn nodded. "All right, I'll go, but first..." He drew close to Peter, whispered something in his ear, then smiled evilly at the look of horror on the blonde bassist's face. With a triumphant look in his eyes, Finn disappeared, and once again Radha and Peter were alone.

Radha swallowed. "Peter, what did he say to you?"

The horrified look on Peter's face dissolved into a fit of tears as he told her what Finn had told him. "If I breathe a word about any of this to my friends," he sobbed, "My life is forfeit."

In other words, if Peter tried to get a warning out to any of his friends, Aisling and Jesse included, he would be killed.

* * *