Notes: Merry Christmas! And yeah, I know it's not actually Christmas yet, but I always get into a Christmas mood around this time of year, so I went with it.
I actually don't know much about amplifiers or drum sets, so if you do know about such thing, and I get some information wrong here, please feel free to point it out to me so I can change it. I want to make my stories as realistic as possible. Even if it is the Monkees. XD
Ventura, CA, three years and three months prior:
It was officially wintertime in Ventura, and Peter shivered as he walked the six blocks from the hotel to the music store. He finally had enough money for the amplifier, and he was going to buy it. At least, that's what he kept telling himself. He had been saving his money for this very purpose, he wanted an amplifier. He was tired of not playing any music.
But as he reached the music store, he sighed, reminded of the reason he was having second thoughts about the amp. Christmas decorations covered the inside of the store, he could see them through the window. As he went inside, he could hear an old Connie Francis Christmas record being played on the record player behind the counter.
"Hello," the cashier said, coming up to Peter. "Here to buy a record for someone, they make nice gifts!" He said cheerfully. Peter opened his mouth to say "No, I want to buy an amplifier all for myself!" But instead ended up choking back the words. Trying again, he said "No, I'm just looking around right now."
The cashier nodded. "Well, if you need anything, let me know," he said before walking up to another customer.
Peter nodded and browsed around for a while, looking through the records and drifting slowly over to where the amp was. It was the one he'd been watching for the past three months, the display model, now the last one in the store. Every other amp had been sold.
He walked over and looked at it, admiring it. It wasn't exactly the best quality, but still, it was an amp, and he could put up with a few kinks, he just wanted to be able to play his bass again.
But every time he went to tell the cashier he wanted to buy it, he kept thinking about Micky.
He wanted to get Micky a Christmas present. And not just any Christmas present, he wanted to get him something really nice. It hadn't taken long for Micky to become Peter's closest friend.
In fact, Micky was the closest friend he'd had in a long time. You didn't exactly make life-long friends hitch-hiking across the country. Usually, you were lucky to strike up a friendship that lasted more than a couple of days.
Peter didn't know whether or not Micky felt the same way about him, in fact, he actually didn't consider himself very high on Micky's list of friends. Micky had grown up in Ventura his whole life, he had school friends that had practically grown up with him, in fact, he was out with some of them right now.
But it didn't matter what Micky thought of him, Peter was going to get a nice present for Micky.
Having made up his mind, Peter left the store without looking back, so that he wouldn't be tempted by the amplifier. He still had no idea what to get Micky, but he'd think of something soon.
Micky tip-toed up to the music store, looking around as he did so, making sure no one saw him. He had told Peter that he was going out with some school friends, but he had just said that so Peter wouldn't be suspicious. Really, he was there for a very specific purpose.
He was going to buy Peter an amplifier for Christmas.
He knew that his friend missed playing his bass, sometimes he would just look at it with so much longing that it almost made Micky want to become a musician, just so he could feel that way too.
But Micky had heard that this music store was selling amplifiers, and so here he was, ready to buy one.
Fortunately for Micky, he peeked into the window before he went inside, for there was Peter, walking around aimlessly, casually glancing at some of the records as he wandered.
What was he doing here? Micky watched as Peter slowly drifted over to the back of the store, where the amplifiers were sure to be kept.
No... He thought. Oh no, please, don't tell me...
Peter was going to buy an amplifier. Micky was sure of it. Now he would have to think of a whole new present.
And this one would have been perfect...
In the three months that they had been room-mates, Peter had quickly climbed up the list of Micky's close friends. In fact, Micky might even go so far as to say that Peter was one of his closest. There was just something likeable about him, you couldn't not be his friend if you knew him.
Wait, what's he doing now?
Micky looked as Peter walked away from the amplifier, then walked back, then walked away again. He looked to be indecisive about something. He looked behind him one more time, and then clenched his fists and turned towards the door.
Oh no, he's coming out!
Micky turned and ran across the street, ducking down behind a newspaper stand right as Peter walked out the door and began to walk back towards the hotel. Micky sighed with relief, he had almost been caught.
But more importantly, Peter hadn't bought the amplifier! Briefly, Micky wondered why, but shook the thought out almost as soon as he'd gotten it. Who cared why Peter hadn't bought it? What mattered was that he didn't, and now Micky could.
Running across the street and into the store, Micky almost ran into the cashier, but stopped himself just in time. "Ah!" The cashier yelled, startled, but then calmed himself and turned to Micky."C-can I help you?" He asked. Micky nodded. "I'm here to buy an amplifier for a friend of mine," he said. "But I don't really know anything about 'em. Can you show me what you've got?"
The cashier nodded. "I'm afraid we don't have much," he said. "Our store is closing down soon, we're on a clearance sale. Everything must go!" He chuckled nervously as he led the way to the back of the room.
"This is our last one," he said, indicating the amp. "It's the display model, so it isn't exactly new, and it's a rather old model anyway. I'm prepared to sell it for almost anything, otherwise, it'll just end up going into storage."
Micky smiled. "Well, how much is an amplifier like this worth?" He asked. The cashier looked at it and scratched his chin. "Usually, I sell amplifiers for around 200 dollars, but like I said, this is an old model, it's the display model, and we're having a clearance sale, so... how does 50 dollars sound?"
"Sounds great!" Micky said. "Tell you what, I don't have that much money with me, but can you hold this for me, I'll go and get some money and then I'll come and get it!"
"Sure, I can do that for you," The cashier said. "Groovy, thanks!" Micky said before speeding off back to the hotel.
Humming a little, the cashier took out a small sign that read "SOLD" and set it down in front of the amplifier. He loved the holiday season.
As Micky rounded the corner, he suddenly registered that Peter was standing there. He skidded to a stop, and managed to slow down enough to not bowl Peter over like he had when they first met, and instead just knocked into him. "Whoa, sorry-" Peter began instinctively, turning around. When he saw who it was, however, he shook his head. "Micky," He said, smiling. "You really should stop running everywhere you go, one day you'll run into someone other than me, and they might get mad."
"Yeah, well, you should really stop standing on street corners," Micky said, pretending to get defensive. "Maybe people won't run into you so much." Peter blinked. "You know, I'll bet you're right," he said. "Course I am!" Micky said. He needed to think of a way to keep Peter away from the hotel, so he could bring the amp here.
"So," he said. "What'cha up to?" Peter put his hands in his pockets. "Nothing," he said. Micky looked up at him. The face he was making was a new one to Micky. Peter was staring straight ahead, lips pursed, as he stood, slightly rocking back and forth.
"You've got a secret!" Micky guessed. Peter looked down at him. "What?" He said. Micky chuckled. He hadn't meant to say that out loud. "Nothing," he said. "It's just, the face you were making, it looked like you were hiding something."
And now Peter looked guilty. Yeah, he was definitely hiding something. Micky smiled. He just hoped his facial expressions weren't as visible, or he'd have a hard time trying to convince Peter to clear out.
"Eh, I must be imagining things," he said. "Anyway, you hungry?" Peter looked relieved at the change of subject and nodded. "Uh, yeah, I guess so. Want to go get dinner?""SURE!" Micky yelled, running to the hotel as fast as he could. "Hey, wait!" Peter called, confused by Micky's behavior. He started to run too, but he wasn't as fast as Micky.
Micky burst through the hotel doors and tore through the lobby into the kitchen. "Oh!" Aunt Franny exclaimed as Micky came speeding in. She dropped her dish towel and put her hand up to her heart. "Micky!" She said. "Don't come tearing in here like that! You nearly gave me a heart attack!"
"Sorry, but I need you to keep Peter distracted while I buy his Christmas present and hide it upstairs!" Micky said quickly. "I had to be fast, he's right behind me!"
"Oh," Aunt Franny said as soon as she processed Micky's speed talk. "Well, of course dear! Consider it done!"
Just then Peter rushed into the room, panting. "Micky," he said. "Why... why'd you run? I don't... I don't know why you have to run everywhere!" "Oh, gee, you're right, Pete!" Micky said quickly. "Walking'll get me where I'm going just fine, I don't really need to run anywhere!" Peter nodded. "Yeah," he said. "That's right- Hey, where're you going!?"
"I'm gonna go for a walk!" Micky said, walking over to the door as quickly as he could without running. "Don't wait for me, you go ahead and get your dinner. I'll be back before you can say meatloaf!"
The door swung closed and Aunt Franny handed Peter a plate. He looked over at the door and sighed. "Meatloaf," he said, walking over to the table.
Micky stopped walking as soon as he was sure Peter wasn't following him. He tore up the stairs to his room and grabbed fifty dollars from his special hiding place, and then he tore back down the stairs, through the front doors, and down the six blocks to the music store.
"Why, hello," the cashier said, after getting over being startled by Micky's entrance. "You here for the amplifier?" He asked. Micky nodded. Even though he ran all the time, he was beginning to tire out.
"Well, here you are!" The cashier said, handing Micky a box. Micky took it and handed the man his fifty dollars. "Here you go," he said. The man counted it up and put it in the register. "Do you want a receipt?" He asked. "No," Micky said. "He might find it, and then he'd know what I was getting him!"
The man nodded. "Alright," he said. "It was a pleasure doing business with you, have a nice day, and happy holidays!"
"You too," Micky called over his shoulder, already running through the door, this time with a semi-heavy box.
When he got to the hotel, he ran up to his room and set the amp down on the ground. He looked at it, smiling. Peter would be so happy.
"Micky?" Micky gasped as he heard Peter coming up the stairs. He had to hide it, he had to hide it... but where? Their room was small, not a lot of hiding places. Pulling one of the sheets off his bed, Micky draped it across the amp and sat down on the couch right as Peter opened the door.
"I thought I saw you coming in," he said. "What's going on, why are you acting so strange?"
"Strange?" Micky squealed. "I'm not acting-Ahem!" He cleared his throat and continued talking, lowering his voice. "I'm not acting strange," He said. "You're the one acting strange, what with your questions and all that! Why are you acting strange?"
Peter frowned, confused. "Huh?" He asked. Micky rolled his eyes. "I'm talking about your behavior, mister!" He said, standing up. "Hanging around street corners, following me around, asking ridiculous questions! And you call me strange!"
Peter continued frowning, trying to make some sense of what Micky was saying. "Well, gee, Mick, I'm sorry," He said finally, his smile coming back. "I didn't mean to do any of that stuff, I'll stop acting strange."
"That's all I ask," Micky said graciously. Peter smiled and then noticed the amp with the blanket over it. "Well hey, what's that?" He asked curiously.
"There you go asking more of those ridiculous questions!" Micky exclaimed, rushing over to the amp and sitting on it before Peter could move the blanket.
"Why, don't tell me you've never seen a, uh..." Now what were those chairs called again, his mom had some in her living room, simple square chairs, pretty low to the ground... "Ottoman!" He yelled out. "Don't tell me you've never seen an ottoman before!"
Peter blinked, and then shrugged. "Actually, I haven't," He admitted, still smiling. "what is it?"
Micky laughed. "What is it?" he repeated. "What is it, the boy asks!" He laughed some more and looked around at an imaginary audience before addressing Peter the way one might speak to a child who didn't know what a fork was. "What it is, Peter, is a chair. You sit on it."
Peter nodded. "Alright," he said. "Sorry I didn't know, I've just... never heard of it before."
"Well, you've heard of it now!" Micky said, launching into a salesman's speech endorsing the ottoman he was(n't) sitting on.
"It's the one piece of furniture every living space needs, it's small, easily stored out of sight to make room for parties, or bridge games, or dancing!"
He jumped up and did a few steps of some weird dance he was making up.
"It's also comfortable, it's been endorsed by all those TV personalities you've come to know and love!" He grabbed Peter's shoulders and shoved him towards the amp, pushing him down to sit on it.
"Well?" He said dramatically. "Tell me, sir, that you are in agreement with all those haute couture somebody's, those who judge comfort on a day-to-day basis! Those great minds of our time!"
"Actually, it seems a little hard," Peter said. Micky paused. "Well, like I said, great minds..." He said, before continuing.
"There's no end to the never-ending abilities performed by the ottoman! Why, it even makes a good drum!" He ran over and rapped his hands on the amp in a fast beat, keeping time with his foot.
"Say, you're actually pretty good!" Peter said, his eyes wide.
"Yeah, I know, I get it from my mother," Micky said, believing Peter to be talking about his impersonation of a salesman. Peter smiled. "Wow," he said. "And here I though you weren't much into the whole music scene."
"Music!?" Micky asked, confused. When did they get on music? Peter nodded and Micky shrugged. Better to not question Peter's odd comments. They usually made some semblance of sense to Peter, but nobody else.
"Ah well," he said. "Like I told you before, when I get old enough, I'm going to move out to LA to be discovered. My name will be up in lights, and everybody will come from miles around to see me perform!"
Peter nodded. "Well, you definitely need practice," he said. "And some equipment. But you'll definitely make it, I think you've got some real talent there!"
Micky wasn't sure whether to be offended or flattered. He'd been practicing his impressions all his life, and how much equipment did one need to perform a comedic routine?
"Uh, thanks..." He said. "Anyway, I'm starving. I know you already ate, but I'm gonna go get some dinner. Whatever you do, don't take the cover off the ottoman! It ruins the stuffing something awful!"
Peter nodded and Micky left, feeling pretty good about how everything had gone down.
Peter looked at the ottoman for a second and then shook his head. It really was an awful chair, it wasn't comfortable at all. Micky had told him not to take the cover off, but he really had been worried over nothing. Peter had no intention of doing anything with that ottoman.
It had given him an idea, however. Grabbing the money he had been saving for the amplifier, he went down to the lobby and peered into the kitchen door to make sure Micky was there.
He was there alright, laughing with Aunt Franny and saying something about a blanket. Peter smiled as he left. If Micky was telling one of his stories, than Peter had plenty of time to go down to the store and get what he needed.
When he reached the music store, the cashier came up to him and smiled. "Well, decide to buy something after all?" Peter smiled. "Yes," He said. "I want to buy a set of drums for my room-mate. What do you have?"
The man sighed. "I'm afraid I don't have a full set," he said. "We're closing down the store soon, and I've been selling everything I can. The last drum kit I have is missing a snare drum, it was a display model and got broken."
Peter frowned. "Well, can I see the set? I might be able to get another snare somewhere else." The man nodded. "I suppose you could do that," he said. "Follow me."
He led the way through a door in the back of the store, and Peter saw some boxes stacked up against one wall, and a drum kit stacked up next to them. He walked up to the set and picked up one of the tom-toms.
It definitely was a low-quality set, and used. The black paint coating the set was chipped in a few places, and the drum itself was fairly weak, but it was an alright set for a beginner. Micky could learn to play on these, and maybe one day they could buy a nicer set.
"How much is it?" He asked. The man thought for a moment. "Let's see," he said. "Damaged display model, low quality set to begin with... I'll give it to you for 35 dollars." Peter smiled. "35 Dollars!?" He said. "I'll take it!" He was about to pull the money out of his pocket when he paused. With the drum set being so cheap, he could probably afford the amplifier as well.
"I'd also like to buy an amplifier," he said. "Where do you keep those?" "Oh, oh dear..." The man said, the smile on his face fading to an apologetic look. "I'm afraid I sold my last amplifier today. I'm so sorry..."
Peter tried to not look disappointed. "Oh, that's alright," he said. "It's not your fault someone beat me to it." He pulled the money out of his pocket and counted out 35 dollars.
"Here you go," he said. "Say, my place is kind of small, I can't hide a drum set in there without my room-mate finding it. Is it alright if I leave it here, and I'll come get it a few days before Christmas?"
"Of course," he said. "Would you like a receipt?" Peter nodded and followed the man up to the register to get it. After he got the receipt, he walked back to the hotel. He would have to get a snare drum before Christmas, but at least he had the majority of Micky's present ready for him.
Christmas morning dawned bright and clear, and Micky woke up with the sun, excited for the day. Today, he would give Peter his amplifier, and then they were going to have a Christmas breakfast with Aunt Franny.
After breakfast, they were going to work a half-day at the hotel, because even though Christmas was the busiest time of the year for them, Mr. Spiner never made anyone work a full day on a holiday. After work and a light lunch, they were going to join Micky's family for a day of celebration.
Micky had told his mom about Peter, and how he was from Connecticut and didn't have anywhere to go for Christmas. His mom had promptly insisted that Micky bring Peter to their house, as she believed that no one should be alone on Christmas.
At first, Peter had been reluctant to accept Micky's invitation, but the younger boy had finally convinced him to go by telling him that he always brought friends over to his house for Christmas. This wasn't entirely true, but Peter wouldn't have known that, and what Peter didn't know wouldn't hurt him.
So, the day was planned, and Micky was ready to get started, despite the early hour. Sitting up in bed and getting ready to wake up Peter, he stopped. The entire room was filled with Christmas decorations.
Gold and silver garland hung from the ceiling, there were wreaths hung on the window and the door, a row of about sixteen red and green wool stockings was stretched along the kitchen counter, and in the corner, there stood a large tree.
It was decorated with tons of gold, red, and silver bulbs, reflecting the light from a string of white Christmas lights. There were small crystal snowflakes hung amidst the bulbs, and a layer of silver tinsel was gracefully draped over the lot of it, causing the tree to sparkle.
On top of the tree was a large metal-wrought star, glittering brightly. It was gold and silver itself, and it matched the rest of the decorations perfectly.
But what really surprised Micky was the set of drums in the middle of the room. They were set up already, and even though Micky hadn't ever really played the drums before, seeing them there amidst the pretty decorations gave him a little bit of a thrill. He got up and walked over to them, reaching out with his finger to touch them and see if they were real.
They were, and the feel of the shiny black side felt nice and cool. He walked around and looked at the set. They were all black, except for one drum, which was a glittery gold color, like the rest of the decorations. He smiled.
But the question remained, what were they doing here? And not just the drums, all the decorations, the tree, everything. How had it gotten here? It certainly hadn't been here when he went to bed.
He knew it wasn't his mom, there was no way she would have snuck into his apartment in the middle of the night just to decorate the place.
It couldn't have been Aunt Franny, she never went up stairs. It hadn't been Mr. Spiner, Micky knew he had his own holiday tradition, which required he spend the night out on the town, not at his own house or at the hotel.
And he hadn't believed in Santa Claus since he was 8 years old and had seen his mother wrap his presents and hide them under the tree. That left only one person.
He looked over at Peter, who was dead asleep on his bed. He was still dressed in the clothes he'd been wearing the day before, shoes and everything, and he had tinsel in his hair.
Micky laughed. Of course Peter had stayed up all night to surprise him with the decorations. In the three and a half months since he'd known the boy, Micky could tell that Peter was that kind of person.
He turned back to the drums. They were probably Peter's present to him, which meant that somehow, Peter had gotten the idea that Micky wanted them. Micky wasn't exactly sure how Peter had gotten that idea, but it was a nice present.
He was used to getting sweaters from his mother and sweets from his sister, it was nice to get something that wouldn't be either something to wear, or something to eat.
Besides, the more he thought about drumming, the more he liked the idea. He did have a pretty good sense of rhythm, and he'd always liked hearing the percussion on any records he heard.
Yeah, he would learn to be a drummer! Now thoroughly psyched about the drums, Micky wasted no time in sitting down and picking up the drumsticks. He held them in his hands for a moment, not really having any idea how to play.
"Well," he said to himself. "It can't be that hard."
After a few moments of randomly hitting the drums, he heard Peter wake up. "Micky!" He said, "What are you doing!?" Micky grinned. In just the few moments he'd played, he already wouldn't trade the drums for anything in the world. It was like he'd found a piece of himself, a piece that he hadn't even known was missing.
"I'm playing the drums!" He said happily. "This is amazing! Thanks, Peter, I love 'em!" Peter smiled. "I'm glad you like them, Micky," he said. "But you really shouldn't be playing them right now. You'll wake up the guests."
To say Peter was surprised to find that the uncomfortable ottoman was really the amplifier he had wanted was an understatement. After he had explained to Micky about the decorations (The cashier at the music store had given them to Peter free of charge, as the store wouldn't be opening again and he didn't need them), Micky had jumped up and ripped the blue sheet off of the square box and gave it to Peter to open.
Peter had been entirely speechless for the rest of the morning, and had sat smiling and staring at his new amp while Micky chattered endlessly about his new drumset and all the fun they would be having that day.
Aunt Franny served them a wonderful breakfast of cinnamon pancakes and sausage and eggs and fresh fruit. Micky was disgusted to see Peter pour maple syrup on everything, not just the pancakes, but Peter convinced him to try it out, and it actually tasted pretty good.
They had an easy day of work, because even though the hotel was very busy, all the guests were touched by the magic of the Christmas Spirit, and were pleasant, patient, and happy.
After work, they took off for Micky's house. "Are you sure it's alright that I come?" Peter asked nervously as they walked up the walkway to the front door. "Of course it's alright," Micky said. "They're gonna love you!"
Without knocking, Micky opened the door and stepped inside, and the two of them were blasted with the sounds of Christmas music and the smell of turkey, as well as a voice yelling "MICKYYYYY!" A 13 year-old girl came running around the corner, and tackled Micky in a bear hug.
Micky laughed. "Hi, Jenna," he said. "Merry Christmas!" "Merry Christmas!" She said back before taking off to another room. "Mom! Dad!" She yelled. "Micky's here!"
Soon Micky's parents came out to give their son a hug, and Micky's mom gave Peter a hug as well. "It's nice to meet you, Peter!" She said. "Micky's told us so much about you!"
Peter grinned, no longer feeling quite so nervous. "Thank you," he said. "He's told me a lot about you as well!" "Well, isn't that nice!" Micky's mom said. "What kinds of things has he told you?" She looked at Micky who smiled nervously. Peter shrugged. "Just the usual stuff," he said. "He says you're a great cook." Micky's mom smiled. "Well, not to toot my own horn," she said. "But he was right. Come into the dining room, dinner's almost ready!"
Peter had a great time, he fell in love with Micky's family, and they absolutely fell in love with him. After dinner, they went Christmas Caroling, and Peter discovered that Micky had a great singing voice, and that he had inherited it from his dad. When they got back to the house, they all sipped hot cocoa and opened presents while Peter watched.
He was having a grand time just watching, he hadn't expected any of them to get him anything, which was why he was surprised when two packages were handed to him. He looked at them for a second, just staring at his name written on them. "They're for you, silly," Jenna said. "Open them already!" He felt his smile slip onto his face as he opened the first, which was a brown paper bag filled with salt-water taffy from Jenna.
"Thanks," he said. "How did you know I liked salt-water taffy?" Jenna smiled. "I didn't," she said. "I just bought an extra bag when I got Micky's share." Micky, who'd already opened his presents, nodded, his cheeks bulging with the sweets. "Well, thank you!" Peter said before turning to the other present. Opening it, he found an ivory colored sweater, with gold braiding going down the front.
He turned and smiled at Micky's mom, who was glowing herself. "Thank you, Mrs. Dolenz," he said. "Oh, please!" The woman said merrily. "Just call me mom. That's what all of Micky's friends call me." Peter's smile turned into a grin. "Alright... mom..." he said, trying it out. "Thanks, I love it!"
As the night went on and Micky's family all talked and laughed and had a generally good time, Peter couldn't wipe the smile off his face. Today had been the best Christmas he'd had in a long time, and although the amplifier, the taffy, and the sweater had all been great presents, he felt that he'd gotten an even better gift. He had a new family.