End

He glanced at the clock in the living room. It was still early and Micky was most likely still in bed. Davy wasn't yet hungry for breakfast, so he sat down on the couch.

"Okay, then, just where are you?" he thought aloud.

Peter awoke to find (with some surprise) that he was not cold. In fact, he was rather warm. He opened his eyes and looked around him. A heavy, warm quilt covered him. He saw he was indoors now. He started to sit up, confused, but began to cough. Peter found himself suddenly hit with a fit of coughing so bad, he was forced to lay back down.

'Guess I'm sick,' he thought to himself once the coughing had subsided. 'But where am I?'

The door to his right - which he hadn't even noticed before then - opened, and a woman entered. From the back, Peter could see only her long blond hair cascading down her back. She shut the door, and turned to face him.

"Oh good, you're awake," Fiona said before he could speak. "Feeling any better?"

"A little," he replied somewhat hoarsely. "Fiona - how did I get here?"

She set the tray down on a table next to the bed and helped Peter to prop himself up with a few pillows. "Not with out difficulty," she told him. "It's a long story - my aim's a little off."

"I can imagine," he replied, as he began to sip the tea. "Is Mike here, too?"

"Sleeping like a baby," she replied. He nodded. Peter looked as go he was going to say something more, but he began to cough again. "You'd better get some rest," she told him when he'd finished. He nodded, sneezing violently. She handed him a tissue.

"Thanks, Fiona," he told her as he relaxed back into bed and blew his nose. "I really appreciate it." She nodded and smiled as she left the room, leaving Peter to drift back to sleep.

Nicole entered the Pad shortly after ten A.M. Micky was eating a bowl of Frosted Flakes, which he picked up and carried across the Pad when she walked in.

"Hey, what's up?" he asked.

"Where's Davy?" she asked without preamble. "I'm going to see Thomas, and I thought he might wanna come."

Micky nodded, and gestured towards the couch. Davy, barely noticeable, was sitting perfectly still, unmoving, with his eyes shut. He was still wearing his pajamas.

"He's been there all morning," Micky told her. "I don't have a clue as to what he's doing, but I sure ain't gonna bother him."

"Wouldn't be surprised if he's lookin' for Mike and Peter," Nicole declared.

Before Micky could respond, Davy's eyes opened. He looked a bit stunned for a moment, but shook his head, shaking it off. He looked up at them. "Yep," he replied, standing up.

"Well? Where are they?" Micky asked.

Davy shrugged and headed for his bedroom. "I don't know," he called from the bedroom.

Micky and Nicole exchanged glances. "You don't know?" Nicole asked. "You've been looking all morning and you haven't found them?"

Davy emerged a moment later, buttoning his shirt as he walked. "I have a vague idea," he explained. "I know they're safe, and I know they're with a friend. But I don't know much more."

"That's better than nothing," Micky replied optimistically. Nicole nodded.

"You comin' ?" she asked Davy, heading for the door. "I've got other stuff to do this mornin', so if you ain't comin' now, you ain't comin' at all."

Davy smiled. "I'm coming," he replied, winking slightly at Micky as he passed. Both could tell she was agitated. She was dropping g's and gaining an accent the way Mike always did when he got upset. Micky grinned back at him, and chuckled to himself as the door shut behind them.

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