From: Lenora McCoy Newsgroups: alt.ql.creative Subject: Multiple Monkee Personalties Part 5 Date: Tue, 03 Feb 1998 02:32:04 -0600 Message-ID: <34D6D604.50AEBC26@sprintmail.com> MULTIPLE MONKEE PERSONALITIES PART 5 Sam took a deep breath and waited for the director to call action. Davy was on his horse several yards away, out of the shot, warming the horse up. "Places everyone! Roll cameras! Action!" Rafelson called out. Peter blew the horn, or pretended to, in Sam's ear. He rubbed his ear and gave Peter a "look" as scripted. Then Rafelson called, "Good! Here, take the flag Micky and do the next one. No sense in stopping the cameras." Sam took the flag, got into position and waved the flag. This time Peter did blow the horn -- loudly. Out of the corner of his eye Sam saw the horse buck. Davy cried out, "Look out! 'E's spooked!" The horse bolted in Peter's direction. Peter tried to get up but in the soft sand it was extremely difficult. Sam ran behind Peter, grabbed his arms, and forcefully dragged Peter out of the way, then pulled him to his feet. Al then called, "Sam! The kid! He can't run fast enough to get out of the way!" Sam reacted quickly, chasing down the kid and carrying him over to Peter. By the time both Peter and the kid were safe, Davy had calmed his horse down. He dismounted and approached Rafelson. "Bob, I don't think it best to actually blow that bleedin horn. It bloody well scared the horse half to death!" Rafelson ran a hand through his hair and let out a deep breath. "Yeah, we know now. Micky?" Sam ran over to Rafelson, "Good job in rescuing Peter and Kerry. Thanks." Rafelson then addressed the crew. "I think we'll take the rest of the day off and resume filming tomorrow." The crew broke up and packed up. Sam received a bone-crushing bear hug of thanks from Peter and a less painful one from Kerry. He headed over to Micky's trailer and changed back into street clothes. As Sam drove back to Micky's house, he wondered why he hadn't leaped yet. He poised that question to Al. "I dunno, Sam. Lemme ask Ziggy . . . she says Agnes has some unfinished business with Micky." Sam gave Al a confused look. * * * Agnes approached the Waiting Room with a jumble of emotions and a stomach full of butterflies. Sam had accomplished his mission -- saving Peter's life. She knew Sam might leap out at any moment. Wearing her blue flowered "Peter" shirt, her dark navy blue stretch pants, and tan moccasin "Peter" boots, she slowly walked into the Waiting Room. Micky sat there plucking away at the guitar and scribbling notes on a sheet of paper. She stood for a moment just looking, knowing that she wouldn't have much time with him. After a moment, Micky looked up and saw her. For the first time since Sam had leaped into Micky, she remembered that she couldn't see him as Micky -- she only *saw* Dr. Beckett. But the soul inside was so unmistakably Micky she'd forgotten all about that. "Hi Agnes. Why so glum?" "Sam finished his mission. He might leap at any time. I came to say goodbye." She sat next to him and looked at the sheets he'd written tabulature notation on. Reaching back to where she knew her guitar would be, she grabbed it and started plucking out the song he'd written. "We have to figure out some way to make sure I remember that we made this pact, so I won't brush you off as just some silly fan when you bring me this wealth of material." Agnes looked up from her guitar, trying hard not to cry. "Do you think if Sam left a note somewhere mentioning the pact, would that be a sufficient reminder?" "That might work, if he left it in my bedroom, by the alarm clock." "Ziggy?" "I have already relayed the necessary information to Admiral Calavicci." * * * Sam sat in Micky's bedroom writing a brief note. He wasn't sure if he should be mentioning the future, but if no one at the Project objected he wasn't about to argue. He folded the note and placed a corner under the alarm clock, then laid down on the bed to wait to leap, after setting the alarm clock for Micky. * * * "Dr. Beckett has left a note in the specified place," Ziggy announced. Micky and Agnes both placed their guitars on the stands that she'd brought in the night before. "Well, I guess this is it. It won't be much of a wait for you, but I have to live a lotta years before I'll get to see you again." He pulled Agnes to him in a tender hug. Agnes rested her head on his shoulder and whispered, "Thirty-five years . . ." Just then she felt a slight tingling and Micky's warm body gave way to a stiff, lifeless one. Sam had leaped. Agnes carefully laid Sam's body on the Waiting Room bed and then slowly set to the task of packing up her musical instruments again. * * * A week later Agnes received her signal -- Micky was in the recording studio in Los Angeles, hard at work. She got Al to pull rank and get a private meeting with Micky for her. She took a plane to LAX, where she saw a tall man wearing a hooded sweatshirt with the words "Open University" across the front and sunglasses holding up a sign that read "Agnes G." * * * Several hours later at Micky's house, she and Micky were chatting over orange juice as if no time had passed at all. They talked the whole night long. * * * The next morning, Micky drove her to the recording studio. He introduced her to Peter, Davy, and the backup band. She was happy to finally get to tell Sandy Gennaro in person how helpful his drum instruction videos had been. Then Micky announced that two of the songs on the new album, tentatively titled "Reunion 2001" would be co-written by Agnes and himself. He then told Agnes he wanted her to play the drums on those two tracks. How could she refuse? * * * Al walked into the Control Room to find Agnes manning the console while Gooshie took a rare break to sleep. She was as usual dressed as if right out of the sixties, wearing a tan suede jacket with unbelievable amounts of fringe flapping around, tan corduroys, and tan moccasin boots. Al was about to laugh, then he looked down at his own black shirt with multicolored polka dots and white shoes with gold swirls on the toes. "Hey, Agnes! Did you see today's paper yet?" He held up the paper and waved it for emphasis. "No. Why?" Al walked over and pointed to one page of the entertainment section. "We hit number one! Wow! That's terrific!" Al gave Agnes a big hug, then despite her protests, got another tech to man the control console while he took her to eat at the best pizza place in town to celebrate. And the only songs they played on the jukebox were Monkee tunes. THE END -- Lenora McCoy, die-hard Dolenzkateer, Obsessed Leaper, Al-coholic, and Dean-drooler AlbertCalavicci@hotmail.com ZiggyQL@sprintmail.com AdmiralLenora@rocketmail.com http://www.geocities.com/Area51/4401/ Author of "Quantum Kirk" and other stories (list and/or requests by e-mail)