A Friend In Need...

Thomas grinned back, but he wasn't interested in chatting with his friend. He was used to having a famous father. He was also used to the teasing that came with it.

He turned off the main street, his younger sister trailing after him as they walked towards the beach.

"You're a famous person's kid?" Joanne asked him. He looked down at his sister.

"Yeah, and so are you," he reminded her. Joanne had a tendency to forget things easily. Even things that you didn't think could be forgotten.

"Oh yeah," she replied, grinning slightly. Her impish smile showed him that she really hadn't forgotten, and he laughed, shaking his head in disbelief.

They turned on to their street and continued along towards the house. It was a modest two-story house that his parents had managed to buy just after he had been born. Next to it was the slightly more impressive beach house his adopted uncles had dubbed "the Pad."

For now the Pad was eerily abandoned, as it had been at this time last year. This tour was longer, however, and that was why it was nearly October now and they were not yet home.

"How long 'till they get back?" Joanne asked her brother as they walked past the Pad.

Thomas shrugged. "I dunno. Another week I think," he replied. "Mom would know." Joanne nodded, and the two continued on to their own house in silence.

Thomas opened the front door and walked through the living room, heading for the kitchen. He paused in the doorway for a moment and studied the room, trying to make sure it hadn't been cleaned. His mother had a tendency to clean the floor at strange times.

But the floor appeared dry for the moment, so he entered the kitchen, strolled to a cabinet, and began to get himself some cookies for an after-school snack.

"Oh, good, you're home," his mother said, entering the kitchen. Joanne was following close behind her. "I left Darrin and Amber and Robert at Mrs. Johnson's for the day. Get some things together."

"Where are we going?" Thomas asked.

"I've decided that this house is to small for all of us," she replied. "There are some construction workers coming to do preliminary measurements, and I've asked Mr. Babbit if he'll assist them."

"Mr. Babbit?" Joanne asked, shuddering. Mr. Babbit was their uncles' landlord, and he was not the world's friendliest person. To say the least. He gave Joanne and Thomas the creeps.

"He'll know what he's doing," Nicole replied simply, not giving her children a chance to complain.

"Where are we going?" Thomas asked again.

"I didn't want us to get in the workers way," she explained. "So we're going visiting."

"Visiting?" both children asked in unison. "Who are we visiting?"

Nicole just smiled mysteriously. "You'll see," she replied.

"I hope y'all are ready," Bob Smith said as he stuck his head through the door. "We're about ready to start out here."

"Right," Mike replied. "We're almost set." He looked around the room at his band mates. Peter was tuning up his bass and flexing his fingers while he looked intently at the instrument. Davy was combing his hair and staring at himself in the mirror, attempting to smooth any stray hairs. Micky was humming a tune to himself and slamming his drumsticks on anything hard enough to give him a sound. He had experimented for a while with Davy's head but it hadn't given him the desired results, so, for the moment anyway, he was sticking with the tables and chairs and other inanimate objects.

Mike picked up his guitar and ran his fingers over the strings, checking to make sure it was in tune. Satisfied, he slung it over his neck and turned to the others.

"Ready guys?" he asked.

Micky paused in mid-beat and let his arms holding the sticks fall to his sides. "Ready, Mike," he replied.

Peter looked up from the bass and nodded, pausing to push a few blondish hairs out of his eyes.

Davy pried himself reluctantly away from the mirror and ran a final swipe of the comb through his hair. "I'm ready," he reported finally.

Mike heaved a sigh and turned to open the door. "Remember guys, this is our last show. We get to go home tonight."

Thomas and Joanne were overwhelmed by the giant auditorium filled with people. Never before had they seen so many packed into such a relatively small area. The stadium was huge, of course, but there were still so many!

Thomas was overwhelmed by the amount of minds all thinking at once. He had never felt so many minds. Normally he kept his mind open at all times so that he wouldn't miss anything, but now he was forced to shut himself off just slightly so that he wouldn't be too overwhelmed.

Nicole led her two eldest children through the crowd in an attempt to locate their seats. They had relatively good ones, but they were still some distance from the stage, which was good. There were some people whom she didn't want to know that she was there with the kids.

But it was worth it, she felt. Thomas and Joanne had lived with their father and adopted uncles' fame for several years, but had never really understood it. She thought that now was the time to let them see the full scope. And the best way to do that was by taking them to a concert.

This was the Monkees' last concert of the tour, so therefore there was a huge amount of people there, more than she had even expected.

Finally she located their seats and the three sat down. Even though she hadn't told them whose concert this was, she was fairly certain that they had guessed. Now she leaned over to the two and whispered a message.

"Don't let anyone know who you are," she warned. Both looked at her, wide eyed. "I don't think anyone will ask, but don't tell them anyway. Okay?" Both children nodded mutely.

A loudspeaker suddenly switched on, and a loud booming voice that Nicole was certain she had heard before announced to the waiting crowd that the Monkees were about to come on in only a few more minutes. The crowd responded with a roaring cheer that she and the kids participated in.

Joanne's eyes lit up and grew wide. She'd suspected, but until this moment had not been sure. She turned to her brother and stared. Thomas always seemed so calm, but in this instance even he was staring, wide eyed. She realized that he had never been to a concert either, much less one put on by people he knew. He turned to his sister and then as one they turned towards their mother. Nicole merely smiled down at the kids and looked back towards the stage.

Bob finished making the announcement and turned to see that the guys were in place and ready to go out.

"This is a big one," he reminded them unnecessarily in a half-shouting voice over the roar of the crowd.

Mike rolled his eyes. "Hey Bob, ya think ya could be more obvious?" Micky muttered sarcastically. Bob either didn't hear or ignored the obnoxious drummer and turned away from the band.

Mike heard a noise behind him and turned to see that Peter was coughing and wiping his forehead. A fear struck him momentarily.

"You okay, Pete?" he asked, trying to not worry.

Peter coughed again and nodded. He rubbed his eyes. "I'll be okay," he reported, and then coughed again.

"Pete, if you ain't feelin' well..." Mike attempted to intercede, but Peter waved him off.

"I'll be fine, Mike," he repeated. "It's the last show. I'm just worn out. After this I'll be able to go home and rest."

Mike nodded but felt uneasy. He turned towards Micky and Davy, who didn't seem sick, and tried to calm himself.

An image flashed before his eyes. A girl. Long hair. Green eyes. A man. Both together. Mike blinked his eyes and the images faded. It was too blurry to mean anything, so he dismissed it for the moment.

"Just two minutes," Bob yelled from the other side of the stage. His voice was barely audible, and the others were only able to understand him by the two fingers he held up.

Mike looked back towards Micky and Davy. Micky looked normal, but Davy?

"Davy?" he asked. The short man had lost himself in something of a trance. "Is something wrong?"

Davy snapped himself out of it. "No," he replied. "Nothing wrong. I just feel like I know someone who's out there." He gestured vaguely towards the audience.

"Well, of course you do," Micky replied. "This is near our hometown. Probably a lot of our friends out there."

Davy shook his head, that wasn't it. "It's not important," he insisted, and so Mike attempted again to cease worrying. But wasn't succeeding much.

The concert, to the outside observer, appeared normal. There were hundreds of screaming fans, there was a band on stage, there was overpriced food and souvenirs, and afterwards there was a lot of garbage to clean up.

The unsuspecting music reviewer would have sensed nothing unusual either. The music was as good (as usual), the stage show unimpressive but decent. It was an all around normal concert.

But the outside observers were wrong.

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