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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 9"



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 Nine

In Which Conversations Are Held With The Grieving Parties For Various Lengths, And The Author Gets Her Chapter Title Groove Back. She Will Consider Gluing It To Her Head From Now On



That Saturday afternoon, Peter went to bed and didn’t move until Tuesday afternoon. He didn’t eat or sleep, and he barely moved, just lying his side and staring at the wall. His friends did everything they could to get Peter up, but nothing worked. They even attempted to get Sophie to come over to talk to him, but Myrtle reported that she had disappeared on Saturday.


“Oh, don’t worry….She used to disappear all the time. She’d get really upset over something and go away for a few days, usually coming back smelling like she had swam in a liquor still,” Myrtle explained.


Peter only got up Tuesday afternoon because he had made a decision. After the initial shock of having his heart broken again, by the same person no less, Peter had spent his time in bed thinking. He came to the conclusion that he loved Sophie very much. He realized that if he didn’t love her, her leaving would not affect him this badly. He also realized that he could not ask Sophie to stay.


By and large, Peter was a very unselfish person, never wanting to put himself first. In this instance, he knew that asking Sophie to stay would require her to give up a recording contract (something all musicians strived for) and he simply wouldn’t do that. However, if she wanted to do that he wouldn’t argue with her staying.


Having reached all these conclusions, Peter decided to pull himself out of bed, took a shower, and went downstairs for lunch.




Of course, Peter hadn’t been the only one thinking. Myrtle and Hilda had ganged up with the other three Monkees and over the past couple of days they had come up with a fool-proof plan to keep Sophie at home.


As Tuesday evening came around, Peter found himself inexplicably deserted. All at the same time, his bandmates had made excuses to go out. Davy claimed to need to do a load of laundry, but left without any clothes. Micky said he needed to pick his sister up at the train station, but left with out the car, the nearest train station at least ten miles away. And Mike said he was going grocery shopping, although he had been to the store the day before.


Peter didn’t ask any questions, actually preferring to be by himself at the moment, so he was surprised by a knock at the door and he opened it to see Myrtle and Hilda there. Myrtle had a friendly sort of smile on her face and Hilda was scowling.


He let them in, mentioning that Michael and Micky were out. “That’s okay, Peter. We’re here to talk to you,” Myrtle and Hilda had pulled chairs up so they were sitting right in front of the couch. Myrtle motioned for Peter to sit on the couch.


“What do you need to talk with me for?” He asked while sitting down. Myrtle didn’t answer immediately; instead she opened a Christmas tin Peter didn’t realize that she had been holding. “Cookie?”


“Sure. Thank you.” Oatmeal, conveniently Peter’s favorite.


“Hilda made them,” Myrtle said friendly, as Hilda continued to glare in such a way that made Peter want to check and see if the cookies might be poisoned.


“Now, Peter, the reason we wanted to come and talk with you was because of Sophie….” Peter had been afraid of that.


“What about her?”


“Well, she doesn’t always know what’s best for herself, and we were worried that she may have made the wrong decision here.”


“I thought she wasn’t going to decide until she got back from Chicago.”


Myrtle nodded sadly. “That’s what she said, but I think she’s already made up her mind. However, if someone were to ask her to stay….” She looked at Peter pointedly.


“Me? I can’t do that! This is a big break for her….”


“You know Sophie, she doesn’t believe in big breaks or anything like that! Hell, she’ll probably go up to Chicago, not sign and just decide to move there; that’s the sort of thing she does. She hangs around a place until something bad happens and then she moves. She blames herself for you getting beat up so she’ll run and hide in Chicago. That’s simply what she does.”


“What? But that wasn’t her fault….”


“I know it wasn’t. I am just explaining how Sophie is feeling. I tried to ask her to stay, but she told me that I was a married woman now and I didn’t need her. Hilda tried, but she said that now Hilda has a good-paying job, we didn’t need three people at the house anymore. You are the last person who might need her to stay here, so you have to ask her.” Myrtle and Hilda both looked at him pointingly, daring him to argue with them. Peter was reminded of a time when he was at school and he had stuck some gum in this girl’s hair. His principal and his mother had both ganged up on him in the office, both looking the same way at him.


“I-I’ll try,” Peter promised, knowing it would be useless. There was no way she would pass up Chicago for him.


The girls stood up, Hilda glaring a little extra harder. “You’d better,” she said, the only words she spoke during the whole trial, and then they left.




Meanwhile, the other three Monkees had walked to club Sophie worked at. Myrtle had assured them that even though Sophie had probably gone out on a three day drinking binge, she would most certainly still show up at work on Tuesday evening.


Sure enough, as they walking in through the second floor door, there she was, standing slightly unsteadily on the platform, but still playing as well as ever.


“Alright, men, everyone remembers the plan?” Mike asked and the other nodded. They began to make their way back the little side room just as Sophie introduced Old John, slurring somewhat. When they made it back there, it was to find Sophie stretched out on three chairs she had lined up and was now lying on. She looked up when she heard them and groaned.


“Please don’t make me get up,” she pleaded, obviously still hung-over.


“We won’t,” Mike assured her. “We just came by to ask you….”


“To ask me if I’d be willing to stay? Myrtle set you guys up to this, didn’t she?” Sophie asked, draping her arm over her eyes. “The answer is no. I wish I could stay, but I really don’t think I can.”


“Why not,” all three asked at the same time.


Sophie chuckled. “Can you guys give me a reason to stay?”


Again, they all three answered at the same time. “Peter.”


Sophie thought for a moment. “Can you prove he really wants me to stay? I’ve caused him a lot of pain….” She paused, her throat working as if fighting off tears. “He probably hates me.”


“Sophie, you need to get a hold on yourself. Peter doesn’t hate you; he’s spent the past three days holed up on his bed, miserable that you’re leaving. If he hated you, he’d be happy.”


Sophie moved her arm and glared slightly at Mike. “Now, look here Nesmith….I’m not going to be bullied that way into staying. Has anyone considered that I might want to go?”


“So you want to leave? You have no problems at all leaving Myrtle behind, even though you’ve lived with her for almost ten years?”


“Myrtle’s a big girl, she can take care of herself. Besides, our lives don’t have to revolve around each others anymore; she’s married now.” Davy and Mike glared at Micky slightly, who jumped guiltily. And then Mike turned back to Sophie.


“And then what about Peter? Have you just been leading him on, making him think you like him….” Sophie glared at Mike again, although this time he actually backed off; something in her eyes told him he had gone too far.


“I like Peter very much,” she said, her voice catching slightly. “But I’m still going, and the only way you are making me stay is by tying me to a tree.”


The three Monkees shared a look that Sophie caught. “You wouldn’t dare….”


Had Old John not finished his set right then, Sophie may have well found herself on a tree.




The girls and the Monkees met up that evening at the girl’s apartment to discuss the meetings that they had had.


“Sophie is still pretty adamant about going,” Davy said, sitting on the couch. “Is Peter going to ask her?”


Myrtle shrugged. “He may. I think he’ll try, I just hope he tries hard enough to convince her….”


“So, Sophie’s staying is depending on Peter’s ability to give a good argument?” Micky asked. Mike sighed and looked out the window.


“She ain’t never coming back.”






I Met a Girl Who Sang the Blues P10 I Met a Girl Who Sang the Blues P8