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DISCLAIMER: This site is in no way affiliated with the Monkees or personal relations thereof. All fan fiction and fan art is intended for entertainment purposes only and no defamation of character is intended whatsoever. To break it down one more time: It's all just for fun, folks.


"I Met a Girl Who Sang the Blues - Part 7"



Title: I Met A Girl Who Sang The Blues
Author: Boo_Coo_Blue

Genre/Pairing: Peter/OFC, Micky/OFC, Mike/OFC, Davy/OFCs. Gen/Rom/Com
Rating: PG-R, nothing very graphic happens
Warnings: Mild language, mild violence, suggestive themes, sexual situations
Disclaimer: I do not own the Monkees, or any of the characters from the show. I only own my OCs.

Summary: When two girls move in close to our boys, will the effect cause happiness for all, or will every thing be torn apart?
Author's Note: This is the first Monkees fiction I wrote. As such, it is not the best thing I’ve ever written, but it remains in a special place in my heart none the less. Some of you may remember this from Monkees Fic on Livejournal.



Chapter Seven

In Which The Author Runs Out Of Creative Chapter Names, And Simply Decides To Name This Chapter ‘Frank’



Peter was sitting in the chair in the living room, reading a magazine. Davy was out, already abandoning his pledge to swear off girls by sitting on the beach, flirting with all passerby. Mike had gone out to do a load of clothes at the Laundromat. Micky was still out where ever he had gone the night before.


Someone knocked on the door. “It’s open,” Peter called, thinking it must be one of the other Monkees. When he looked over the top of the magazine, however, it was to see Sophie standing in the doorway.


Peter’s mouth fell open when he saw her. Her hair fell loose around her shoulder, where it was usually pulled back out of the way. At first glance, Peter thought she was wearing a long red dress, but a closer look reveled that it was simply a wrap around robe. She was clutching it shut near the top.


Sophie closed the door behind her as she walked in. “Are we alone,” she asked, walking slowly across the room towards Peter.


“Uh, as far as I know,” Peter answered, his eyes not leaving her, his mouth going dry.


“Good,” she whispered as she reached the chair. She let go of the front of her robe to put her hands on the armrests of Peter’s chair. He realized why she had been holding the robe shut; she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Peter gulped nervously and tried to keep his eyes on Sophie’s face.


She straddled him in the chair, putting her knees on either side of his hips. She cupped his face in her hands and brought his face to hers. Peter had tightened up when she had sat in the chair with him, but as soon as her lips touched his he relaxed. He allowed himself to be swept off by her; the feel of her body against his, her hair soft in his hands, the wonderful smell that he had come to associate with her.


She loosened the belt of her robe and he led his hands in, running over the smooth skin of her back, over her shoulders, to the warm, soft area of her chest. She moaned into his mouth, then softly spoke his name. He kissed her again.


“Peter….” Now her voice was louder, deeper and the accent had changed slightly.


“Peter….” Now even more changes. Peter opened his eyes….


And he was in his bed, curled up in the sheets. It was Mike who was saying his name, leaning over the bed with his hands cupped around his mouth.


“Peter, man, you are never this hard to wake up. What time did you get in last night?”


Peter groaned into his pillow, trying to remember. “Five-thirty. What time is it now?”


“Two in the afternoon.” Mike looked down at him pityingly. “How are you feeling?”


Peter thought about how best to describe the feeling of having your heart crushed and then the best dream you had ever had being ruined by your best friend. “Not very good.”


“Well, if you want to hurry, you can come with me and Davy to the store. But if you just want to hang out here today, I’ll understand.” Peter nodded.


“Thank you. Micky still isn’t back?” Mike shook his head.


“No. If he hasn’t called by this evening we’ll start worrying.” By looking at Mike’s face, it was obvious that he was already worrying.


“He’ll be fine, Michael.”


Mike nodded distractedly. “Yeah….”


“Do you need me to do anything while you’re gone,” Peter asked, his face still half buried in the pillow. Mike shrugged.


“Wash the dishes, if you get the urge, I suppose. I’ll see you later, alright?”


Peter nodded, and Mike left. Peter waited until he heard the front door slam shut and then he pulled himself out of bed, grabbed some clothes, and jumped into the shower, making the water as cold as he could possibly stand it.


Peter’s day passed uneventfully. He washed all the dishes in the sink, then moved on to cleaning the kitchen, which in turn led to cleaning the living room and the bathroom. When Mike and Davy walked in, they were very surprised.


“Whoa, Peter! I don’t think this place has looked so clean since we moved in….” Davy sat the grocery bags he was carrying on the newly shined kitchen table. Peter shrugged and looked around.


“Thank you. I got a little bored while you were gone…”


“Did you hear any from Micky?” Mike asked, also setting down bags.


Peter shook his head no, and then the horribly inevitable happened. There was a knock on the door and when Mike opened it, Sophie and Hilda stood there. Peter froze, waiting for Sophie to shoot him angry glares, or to start yelling. Luckily, none of that happened.


“Oh good,” Mike said, upon seeing the girls. “Have you heard from Micky?”


“Well, sort of. We heard from Myrtle…They’re still two hours out.” Sophie seemed to stall, looking towards Peter. “Do you mind if we wait for them here with you?”


Mike let a huge breath of air out. “Thank God, I thought maybe something awful had happened. Sure you can wait here.” He stood back and let the girls come in, smiling a bit shyly at Hilda as she walked past.


There was an uncomfortable silence in the room after Mike closed the door. “Er….I believe I am going for a walk on the beach. Would anyone care to join me?” Davy began walking towards the newly gleaming balcony doors.


“Oh, I have not been on the beach in a long vile. I vill go with you. Michael?” Hilda held her hand out to him and he grabbed at it.


“Yeah, I’ll come,” he said, and all three were out the door in the blink of an eye. Peter and Sophie were quite suddenly alone together. Silence filled the room before Sophie broke it.


“Our friends are very subtle, don’t you think?” She smiled a bit at him. He didn’t return the smile.


Sophie sighed miserably and sat down on the chair, her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. “I’m sorry I ran out last night before explaining myself, Peter. I shouldn’t have done that, it wasn’t fair.”


Peter sat down on the couch as she spoke, and nodded. “I’m sorry, too.”


She looked up at him. “What for? You didn’t do anything wrong….”


“I didn’t do anything right either,” Peter interjected. Sophie didn’t say anything, but looked away. They both sat silent for what seemed like a long while. Sophie broke the silence again, now sounding more resolved, as if she had been using the time to think up what to say.


“You have to understand that, before I came to live here, I was with someone else. I was with this person for a very long time, but, as you can imagine, it didn’t work out. Since then, I’ve been more….cautious about seriously dating people.” She ran out of steam here and sat for a moment starring at the floor, thinking.


“I like you, Peter. You have to know that. But maybe we’re too different, or maybe….something turns out wrong, I don’t know. I like being your friend, and, for the time being, I don’t want that to change.” She stopped there, and Peter glanced over at her. She was still looking down at the floor, her hair covering most of her face.


He sighed. “I guess….I don’t want that to change either.”


She looked up at him and nodded. She leaned forward with her hand outstretched. “Friends?”


Peter wiped his palms on the knees of his pants and shook her hand, a deal sealed. “Friends.” They sat in a more comfortable silence until Mike, Davy, and Hilda came back in from the beach.




Micky and Myrtle were running late, and this was worrying some of their friends. Mike was pacing back and forth pausing only to glance out the window. Sophie was bouncing her knee nervously, and occasionally telling Mike to calm down. Peter, Hilda, and Davy were casually enjoying a game of Scrabble at the table.    


Suddenly Mike gasped. “They’re here! Quick, everyone act natural!” He threw himself down on the sofa and picked up a magazine, not realizing it was upside down. Davy rolled his eyes at this, and set down his last word. “Scruples. Twenty points.”


Hilda and Peter both looked down at the board in amazement. ‘Scruples,’ they mouthed at each other.


Just then, the door opened and Micky and Myrtle walked in, their arms wrapped around each other and laughing at something one or the other had said. Mike’s plans for acting naturally were forgotten as he and Sophie both shot up.


“Where have you been?”


“- worried out of our minds...”


“-you could’ve crashed,….”


“-lying dead in a ditch, waiting to be eaten by vultures….”


“-couldn’t have bothered to leave a note….”


Myrtle started flapping her hands. “Oh, be quiet, Mom!” This shut Sophie and Mike up, not knowing which of them she was referring to.


“Now, if you’d all like to sit down, Micky and I have something to tell you.” Myrtle shooed Sophie and Mike back to the couch and the others left the table to sit in the living room. Micky and Myrtle stood together in front of them all.


“Well, we took the car to Vegas….,” Micky tried to begin, but was instantly barraged by comments from Mike and Sophie.


Myrtle picked up a string of beads sitting on the table and shook it at them. “These are the Talking Beads! Only the person with the Talking Beads can talk.” She shook them some more, glaring at Sophie in particular, who leaned back on the couch, scowling but not saying anything.


Myrtle handed the beads to Micky. “Thank you. Now, we went to Vegas, and well, we….” He looked down at Myrtle, suddenly regretting his decision to be the one to tell their friends. “You do it.”


“We decided to elope.” There was a stunned silence, as everyone stared at the couple facing them. A moment passed. “Oh, someone say something already,” Myrtle begged.


Sophie spread her arms, as if asking ‘how can I?’. “Oh!,” Myrtle exclaimed and snatched the beads out of Micky’s hand and tossed them to Sophie.


Sophie got up and hugged her friend. “Congratulations, honey.” Myrtle let out a huge sigh.


“Oh, thank God! I was afraid you were going to be mad.”


Sophie lightly smacked her friend on the back. “Hell yeah, I’m mad! You up and disappeared on me…..You’re grounded for a month.”


The two girls laughed, but then Sophie caught a glimpse of Mike’s face out of the corner of her eye. He looked positively livid. She began to lead Myrtle towards the balcony, beckoning to Hilda to follow them. “Let’s celebrate out here. Let the guys have some….guy time.” Sophie shook her head and made a weird face, as if not enjoying exactly how lame her last statement was.


As soon as the girls were outside, Micky suddenly felt like he was in front of a firing squad. Mike and Davy were both glowering, and Peter, sitting between the two, had sunk down into the sofa as if trying to avoid the bad vibrations. Micky nervously shifted his weight from foot to foot, waiting for the first shot to be fired. It was from Mike.


“Is she pregnant?”


“No!” Micky shook his head, but then as an afterthought in a low undertone, “I hope not….”


“Is she moving in here with us or are you going in with her?” This one was from Davy.


“I don’t know, we haven’t really thought….”


“Yeah, Mick, that’s really obvious! What sort of idiot marries someone after only knowing them a month? You hardly know her, she could be some sort of….of fiend or criminal!” Mike began pacing.


Micky stared at the floor, for a while, collecting his thoughts. “Look, I know I can be a little girl-crazy from time to time….” The other three snorted. “Fine, fine, maybe that’s understating it, but this isn’t like that. Myrtle isn’t some chick that I really like, she’s a wonderful woman who I love. I didn’t want to let that go, so I made sure it wouldn’t. And if she hadn’t felt the same way, she wouldn’t have said yes. So….” He stalled, losing his steam. “Deal with it.”


Mike and Davy shared a look. “Micky, you know I like Myrtle, she’s swell, but say you both decide to get a place together. And then she does have a baby, and then you have to support a family of three….I get the same salary as you do, man, and I can barely support myself.”


Micky glared at Davy. “What’s your point?”


“You’d have to leave the group, get a real job and have a real life….”


“That’s what you’re worried about? You all know I’m not cut out for a real job; music is the only thing I’m really good at. As long as we’re still getting gigs, I’m still in the band. You know, as long as you’ll have me.”


Davy breathed a sigh of relief, his worries with the marriage dissipating, and he clapped Micky on the back. Mike still looked a bit peeved.


“Man, I hope this all works out for you….But, case it doesn’t….”


Micky interrupted. “It will.”


Mike smiled. “Well, if you’re so sure about it, I guess it’ll be alright.”


“It will,” Micky repeated himself, and then turned to Peter. “Hey, Big Peter, you’re being awfully quiet….”


“I’m glad for you, Micky.” Peter smiled weakly at his friend, not realizing how out of character his lack of enthusiasm was. Davy explained what had happened the night before in a whisper to Micky.


“Oh….Hey, don’t worry about it, babe, she’ll come around.” Peter nodded a bit and then looked out the balcony window for what he thought must have been the millionth time. The sun was setting, streaking the sky orange and red. The three girls were watching it, but then just as Peter had looked out the window, Sophie turned her head and looked back at him. Her expression was unreadable for a moment, but then she smiled at him and waved.


Peter sighed and looked back to his friends. “I certainly hope so.”







I Met a Girl Who Sang the Blues P8 I Met a Girl Who Sang the Blues P6