"Drop 'em," Marissa said, and everyone turned, stunned, to where she was holding a gun in her small hands, she had shot the gun straight out of Pointy's hand.

Pointy gaped. "Donny!" He said. "She has your gun!"

"I-I can see that, boss," Donny stuttered. "I saw it was missing when they crashed through the wall, but there was so much dirt I couldn't look for it, and-"

"SHUT UP!" Pointy yelled before having to cough again. "How on earth did she get it!?"

"You're stupid," Marissa told Pointy with a small giggle. "You gagged me up but you didn't tie my hands. Now." She cocked the gun again and aimed it straight at Pointy. "Everybody, drop 'em!"

They all hesitated.

"DROP THEM BEFORE SHE SHOOTS ME!" Pointy shouted. They all dropped their guns.

Howie smiled and stepped forward, taking the gun from Marissa and taking over keeping Pointy covered and cowed. "Nice shot, Mousie," he said. "Where'd you learn to shoot like that?"

Marissa shrugged. "I watched a cowboy movie last week," she said. "It was easy to figure out."

Agent Agent began tying up the thugs one at a time as the Monkees ran over to untie Peter, talking over each other and asking all at once if he was hurt or not.

Once they got the gag off, he smiled. "I'm fine," he said as they helped him up. "I was more worried about you guys. Pointy said it was a trap."

"Yeah, well, Pointy didn't account for us knowing it was a trap and setting up a new trap ourselves," Micky said.

"Wait a minute," Peter said with a frown. "There were two traps?"

"Well, we knew it was a trap so we didn't fall for it," Howie explained. "If we hadn't known it was a trap, it would've been a trap. But we knew it was a trap, so it wasn't a trap."

"Oh," Peter said. "...What?"

"Never mind that," Mike said. "Are you sure you're fine?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah," He said. "I'm just tired."

"Right," Howie said. "Let's get out of here."

"What should we do with these scum, boss?" Agent Agent said, having finished tying up all the Black Rose members.

"Hmm..." Howie said. "Just a second." Turning to Marissa, he knelt down. "Marissa," he said. "This is very important, and I want you to answer me truthfully. Did anyone hurt you at all while you were with them?"

"Nope," Marissa said happily. "They gave me a room of my own and a nice bed and all the milk I wanted and Donny made sure I ate all my vegetables. Donny said I was too little to understand what was happening anyway. I let him think he was right."

Howie smiled. "Good," he said. "Did you glean any important information?"

Marissa nodded. "Donny has a sister up in Canada," she said. "And a niece. She's my age, and we look a lot alike."

"That's my girl," Howie said.

"What are you gonna do to my sister?" Donny said hoarsely, staring at Marissa in shock and dismay. "And my niece? Are you gonna hurt 'em?"

Howie stood back up and turned around. "No," he said. "You took care of Marissa, I'll do the same for your niece."

Donny let out a sigh of relief, and Howie continued.

"I could've been very angry," he said to the group of Black Rose members. "But as it is, you guys have nothing to worry about. Besides jail. For life."

"Well, Pointy might have something to worry about," Micky stated.

"What's that?" Peter asked.

"This," Micky said with a smile before turning around and hitting Pointy squarely in the jaw. Peter looked on, stunned, as Pointy fell to the ground with a yell.

"That's for kidnapping Peter and betraying his friendship," Micky said angrily. "And you call yourself a man. You're nothing more than a lying weasel. You oughta be ashamed of yourself!"

"You done?" Davy asked, watching in amusement.

"Yeah," Micky said dismissively, turning away. "Now let's get out of here."

"Agreed," Howie said, picking up Marissa. "Let's leave these jokers down here for the police to find. That map'll take care of it."

"You're just gonna leave us here?!" Pointy said fearfully. "Alone?!"

"Yep!" Agent Agent said. "There's barely enough room for all of us in the dune buggy as it is. We can't take you with us."

"Besides," Howie said. "You deserve it. You've had it in for my family since the moment we started up this gang. And even if Peter wasn't related to me, you still would've hurt him. That whole thing with Jumping Jack Jerry happened on your watch, after all."

Pointy groaned. "I knew I shouldn't have trusted an information retrieval to that joker," He said.

"No kidding," Mike said. "He was a miserable gang boss."

"Yeah, he left us with Tony and Bruce," Davy said. "We barely had to convince them to untie us. They were dim."

"His moniker really wasn't all that threatening," Micky said. "It was almost as bad as Knotty Dean."

"Knotty Dean?" Pointy asked. "I didn't know he was stationed on that job."

Peter nodded. "He kidnapped us at gun point," He said.

"Well..." Pointy said. "That was knotty of him."

Everyone looked at him in contempt.

"What?" Pointy asked defensively. "These are the jokes, people."

"...Let's go," Agent Agent said.

So they all climbed into the dune buggy and drove back through the hole in the wall. Then, consulting the map on how to get back to the lumbermill, they drove off to see what had become of all the other Agents.

When they emerged from the trap door, they were met by Psychedelic Llama, who had a black eye, but seemed otherwise fine. "You found 'em," She said, smiling at Marissa in relief.

"Yes we did," Howie said. "How are things up here?"

"The situation has been stabilized," Agent Psychedelic Llama said. "All Black Rose scum have been knocked out or otherwise detained. We have several wounded, but nothing serious. One of the seven decoy cars was shot up and wrecked, but the driver is fine. We've won the battle!"

"Forget the battle," Howie said. "We've got Mr. Thorn tied up in the cellar. We've won the war!"

Agent Psychedelic Llama smiled. "You mean," she said. "The Black Rose gang is out of business?"

"Indeed, it is!" Howie said. "Now then, do you happen to know the situation at my house?"

"I sent a security detail as soon as we finished up here," Agent Psychedelic Llama said. "They should bring word as soon as possible."

"Excellent!" Howie said. "Let's get things here all wrapped up as soon as possible, I want to make sure Polly's okay."

"Yes sir," Agent Psychedelic Llama said. "Now, if you'll all come with me, I want Agent Bobsled to have a look at those rope-burns on Peter's wrists."

They all looked down at Peter's wrists, and Mike whistled in awe. "Yeah," he said. "That has to sting. How come you didn't mention it?"

"I didn't notice," Peter said, and it was the truth. He'd been so caught up with everything else, that he hadn't even noticed the raw red skin caused by the ropes. He held his hands out and looked at them, then noticed that Mike was frowning down at them in confusion.

"Mike?" He asked. "What's wrong?"

Mike blinked a couple of times. "Nothing," he said. "Just... deja vu. Has this ever happened to you before, Peter?"

Peter thought. "No," he said. "I mean, We've all been tied up before, but I've never got rope burns."

"Huh..." Mike said. "Oh well. Let's go."

Agent Psychedelic Llama led them to one of the three cars, which had been set up as a temporary nurses station, Agent Bobsled was there tending to some of the minor injuries the Agents had sustained.

He was currently wrapping Agent Cupcake's arm in a bandage, and as the Monkees all walked up, Howie hissed in sympathy. "What happened?" He asked.

"Oh, it's just a flesh wound," Agent Cupcake replied. "Bullet grazed my arm. Not the worst I've got, believe me, boss."

"Aw, Sammy!" Marissa said sympathetically, running over and climbing on his lap. "I'm sorry you got hurt," she said.

"Don't worry about a thing, princess," Agent Cupcake said. "Old Uncle Sam's gonna be just fine. I was more worried about you! Are you alright?"

"Yep!" Marissa said with a smile. "I shot a gun straight out of Mr. Thorn's hand!"

"Wow, that's amazing!" Agent Cupcake said. "I'm so proud of you!"

"Thanks," Marissa said with a laugh. "It was fun."

"Fun?" Peter asked. "You're only four years old! You should be playing with dolls, or blocks! Not shooting guns!"

"Relax, Petah," Marissa said with a smile. "I can play with dolls and blocks when work's over."

All the nearby Agents laughed, while Peter looked at the rest of the Monkees in dismay. Mike couldn't blame him, he was a bit put off by Marissa's apparent lethal playtime as well.

"Oh, that's too funny..." Howie said, taking a deep breath to steady his laughter. "...Alright. Well, the cops are probably on their way here, what with all the racket we made. I want the scene wiped clean and everyone dispersed in ten minutes. Clear out all the business fronts, and pack it up. We're moving headquarters down to Waterbury temporarily while we look for more permanent housing. And Agent Psychedelic Llama, take the boys and Marissa back to the house, the boys are leaving on the first train to Malibu."

"Thank you," Mike said. "I mean, I don't mean to be rude, but it's time we went home."

"It's nothing, Mike-and-Ike," Howie said. "I'm gonna be leaving too, for Waterbury. We can't stay here in Kent, not now that the police are gonna find Mr. Thorn. That rat'll squeal our family name for sure."

"Alright, boys, if you'll follow me," Agent Psychedelic Llama said. "We'll have you home in no time."

The boys all piled into the car, Davy riding shotgun while Micky and Mike sat in the back with Peter, who insisted on having a window seat. He held Marissa on his lap, and fell asleep before the car had even started. The others didn't disturb him, and the ride to the house was a quiet one.

When they got there, they had no choice but to wake Peter up, but he didn't mind. Polly was overjoyed to see them, and she hugged them both hard and cried for several minutes, while Mike, Micky and Davy went to the guest room to begin packing.

After a few moments, Peter came in and sat down on the edge of his bed with a sigh.

Mike, Micky and Davy all looked at each other before going over to the bed and settling down next to Peter, Mike and Micky on either side, Davy sitting on the floor in front of them.

"How ya doin', Shotgun?" Mike asked, putting his hand on Peter's shoulder.

"I'm fine," Peter said. "Just... how come bad stuff like this always happens to us? I swear, we're the unluckiest guys in the universe."

"Oh, not the universe," Mike deadpanned. "I'm sure there are plenty of really unlucky people out there, who could put our measly efforts to shame."

Peter chuckled, which was exactly what Mike had been going for. "The world, then," he said. "We've gotta be the unluckiest guys in the world."

"I hear ya there," Micky said with a dramatic sigh. "Seriously, this whole trip was a disaster from day one."

"It wasn't all bad," Peter said thoughtfully. "I mean, dinner after Marissa and Meg gave us all makeovers was fun."

Everyone chuckled at that thought.

"Yeah," Micky said. "And having coke and cookies at Joe's Diner, that was fun!"

"And the carnival was fun, even though it kinda ended on a bad note," Mike inputted thoughtfully.

"That gig we did in Hazard was pretty fun," Davy said. "And hey! When Micky found that note from Peter's teacher!"

"Oh, yeah," Mike said. "That was pretty funny."

"Oh, and we met Kate and Johnny, don't forget about them," Micky said.

"Who?" Mike asked in confusion.

"Oh, uh," Micky chuckled. "You know, just... some people we met on the train to Clarksville, while you were asleep."

"Oh," Mike said, but the looks on the other Monkees faces made him suspicious.

"Anyway," Davy said, changing the subject. "So we did have a lot of fun on this trip. It wasn't a total disaster!"

"You're right," Peter said. "It wasn't. I'm glad we came, I got to see mom and Howie again, I got to meet Marissa, and even though I don't like that Howie's a gang boss, at least now I know."

"That's the spirit, Pete," Micky said.

"And one more thing I know now for sure, even though I never doubted it for a second," Peter continued. "Is that no matter what happens, you guys'll always be there for me. That's what makes our friendship so strong. Even when it turns out my family is a national gang bent on ruling the country, you guys stick with me."

Mike chuckled. "Well, Shotgun," he said. "I guess you're stuck with us forever."

"Like glue," Micky said.

"No matter what happens, no matter who your family is, we'll always be best friends," Davy said eloquently.

"Like glue?" Peter asked, looking at Davy with a slight smirk in his eye.

Davy blinked. "...Alright," He said. "Like glue."

"Good," Peter said. "I love you guys too."

Mike, Micky and Davy all smiled, and then Mike stood up with a sigh.

"Well," He said. "We'd better get packing so we can skip town before the cops catch up."

The other Monkees stood up and looked at Mike, amused, while Mike sighed again. "Remind me to never say that again in my life."

"Hey Mike?" Micky asked.

Mike raised his eyebrows, knowing what he was about to walk into but deciding to do it anyway. "What is it, Micky?" He asked.

"Don't forget to never say that again in your life," Micky reminded him.

Peter and Davy laughed as Micky took a few bows in front of an imaginary audience, reminding them to tip their waitresses, and Mike turned away, allowing himself a half-smile in the corner of his mouth.

Ridiculous and dangerous road trip/gang war aside, they were safe. They were all safe, they were all together, they were all happy, and that was all that mattered.

As the Monkees waited for the train that would begin their hopefully uneventful trip home, Marissa sniffled and shed a few tears.

"Don't worry, Marissa," Peter said. "I'll come visit again one day."

"Promise?" the girl said with a pout, raising her arms to be picked up.

Peter smiled and lifted her up, giving her a tight hug. "Promise," he said. "It might not be soon, it might not be for a long time. But I promise, I'll see you again."

Marissa sighed. "Alright," She said finally. "But I'm gonna hold you to it."

Peter chuckled and then set her down, as Polly came over for a hug herself.

"I'm gonna miss you, Peter," She said. "Take care of yourself."

"I will," Peter promised.

Polly laughed. "I doubt it," she said, pulling out of the hug. Then she turned to the other Monkees. "Thanks for taking care of Peter all this time," she said. "I sleep a whole lot better now, knowing that he's with friends as good as you."

With that, she gave each of them another strangling hug, as Howie walked up from the ticket counter.

"Well, I arranged for you boys to have free fare home," he said. "Don't worry, not illegally," He amended, seeing the look on their faces. "I just, I paid for it in advance. And you should be safe the whole trip home, I own these railways. Nobody will bother you at all, for fear of the Good Guys Gang. And if you ever need a favor, you can always contact Agent Storm Cloud, he's my trusted subordinate in charge of the greater Los Angeles area."

"About that," Peter said. "...Howie, I can't join the gang. I'm sorry, I just can't make a life out of this. I have to do what's best for me, and this isn't it."

"Don't worry, Peg-leg-Pete," Howie said, smiling sheepishly. "I've learned my lesson. You're a musician, not a thief. I can't try and turn you into something you're not. Go live your life, Peter. You have my blessing."

Peter grinned. "Thank you," He said. "That means a lot to me."

"You made a horrible gang boss anyway," Howie joked. "It's just not in you to be one."

"I'm glad you finally see it like that," Mike said.

"No kidding," Micky said. "Imagine, Peter trying to be a gang boss."

Howie laughed. "Well, the world will have to live without Junior Best," He said. "It'll just have to be patient, my heir has some more growing up to do before she can begin the family business."

Everyone blinked.

"You mean... Marissa?" Peter asked in dismay.

"Yep," Howie said, as Marissa ran up and climbed into his arms.

"I'm gonna be a mobster when I grow up," she announced happily. "I'm gonna be Baby Girl Best!"

"Oh no," Peter moaned. "Even my baby sister!"

"Don't worry, Pete," Micky said, putting his hand on Peter's shoulder. "You've got years to try and talk her out of it."

Peter sighed. "I guess you're right," he said.

The train whistle blew, and it was time to leave. Peter said one last goodbye to his family, and they all climbed onto the train. They found a nice empty compartment to sit in, and the train pulled out of the station.

"Well, that was an adventure," Davy noted, earning a dry laugh from the others.

"You could say that again," Peter said, leaning against his seat. "I'm really happy I got to come out to Connecticut and see my family, and meet up with old friends, and see the place again, but I'm glad we're on our way home now."

"Speaking of home," Micky said, sitting up. "Let's all agree, we're never gonna contact Agent Storm Cloud. I don't ever want to get involved in this gang again!"

"This gang!?" Davy said. "Why not all gangs? I think we should all agree to never enter any gang, ever."

"Let's write this down," Mike said, pulling out a piece of paper and a pen. "And sign it as an agreement."

"Good idea," Micky said. "Never join any gang, never contact Agent Storm Cloud, and, um... never play the duck pond?"

Mike thought on that. "Alright," he said. "I accept. Never play the duck pond. You never know which gang might be operating it."

"You should also add never take a night train," Peter said. "Because that's when the ghosts come out."

"Yeah," Davy said. "And let's never go back to Muskogee. That was complicated."

"Agreed," Mike said. "Never go back to Muskogee. I don't ever want to get mixed up with that brute Cal Sanders again."

"Anything else?" Micky asked as Mike finished writing it all down.

No one had any more suggestions, so they all signed their names on the paper, and Mike rolled it up and stuck it in his pocket.

They all leaned back against their seats and watched as the scenery went by.

"Hey," Micky said suddenly. "Let's end this story with a song."

"Now, that is a great idea," Mike said. "Good thing I brought my guitar as a carry on."

"I've got my banjo," Peter said with a smile.

"And I've got maracas," Davy said, reaching into his bag to pull his instruments out.

"Well, unfortunately, I didn't think I'd need my drums in the car," Micky said with a sigh. "But I've got my voice, so I'm game.

"What should we play?" Peter asked Mike, who was now absently picking at his guitar and looking absently out the window at the rolling scenery.

"I'm thinking... The Door into Summer," He said, and the other agreed that it was a good choice.

So they began to play, and Mike led them into the song.

"With his fool's gold stacked up all around him
From a killing in the market on the war,
The children left King Midas there, as they found him
In his counting house where nothing counts but more.

And he thought he heard the echoes of a penny whistle band,
And the laughter from a distant caravan,
And the brightly painted line of circus wagons in the sand
Fading through the door into summer

With his travel logs of "maybe next year" places
As a trade-in for a name upon the door."

Micky came in with a soft echo, "He threw it all away..."

"And he pays for every year he cannot buy back with his tears," Mike continued.
"As he finds out there's been no one keeping score."

Then they all chimed in for the chorus again, singing in harmonies that were beautiful to hear.

"And he thought he heard the echoes of a penny whistle band,
And the laughter from a distant caravan,
And the brightly painted line of circus wagons in the sand
Fading through the door into summer!

Yes, he thought he heard the echoes of a penny whistle band,
And the laughter from a distant caravan,
And the brightly painted line of circus wagons in the sand
Fading through the door into summer..."

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Ohmygosharooney, I'm so sorry! I can't believe how long it's been since I updated... and this is the last chapter too. I don't know how I got stuck so bad. But DON'T UNFOLLOW THIS FIC YET! I've got an epilogue coming in (hopefully) soon, followed by a list of the names of all Agents and Others and what those names mean to me.

Thank you to everybody who followed this story, thanks to Crystal Rose of Pollux for letting this fic be in her series, and thanks to Saiken2009 for being such an awesome friend. XD Most of all, thanks to Michael Nesmith, Peter Tork, Micky Dolenz and Davy Jones, respectively, for being the Monkees in the first place. Couldn't'a done it without you.