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100promptsTitle: 'Then I Saw Her Face'
Fandom: The Monkees
Prompt: Table #6/Prompt #42: Darling
Character/Pairing: Mike Nesmith, Davy Jones, Peter Tork, Micky Dolenz, original character
Rating: G
Summary: It all happened in an instant.
Authors Notes: Fic = Mine. Characters = Not Mine. Crossposted toficlet_zone for Challenge #15: The Police Song Titles, and to shortfics for Challenge #4: That Was Weird.
It all happened in an instant. In one moment, Micky was banging away at the drums, feeding rhythm to his fellow Monkees as they worked hard at their latest gig.
In the next moment, he looked up...
...and was transported to a mysterious Paradise at the sight of her. Gleaming auburn hair cascaded gracefully around a pale oval face, and a pair of piercing emerald eyes that instantly made Micky think that their owner could peer right through to his soul. She was perfect, an Aphrodite, looking so out of place at her table in the back of the discotheque. She was a vision.
And she was smiling right at him.
In that instant, everything seemed to blur around him. Everything that wasn't her was faded and unreal. The concerned looks his friends gave him, the frantic sotto voce calls to him; none of it existed.
There was nothing in Micky's world anymore but that flawless face.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Micky?" Peter nudged him anxiously. "Micky, are you alright? You've been playing like a robot. What's the matter with you?"
Davy waved a hand before the drummer's face. "Micky, can you hear us? Snap out of it!" He snapped his fingers a few times, frowning when he got no reaction. "He's out like a light!"
"Well, at least it happened at the end of the gig," Mike pointed out. He turned to the crowd, waving. "Thanks, everybody; that's it for the night. Have fun, and be good!" That said, he turned to join his bandmates at fussing--
--only for Micky to rise from behind his drum kit, and walk dazedly over to a table at the back of the discotheque. His eyes were almost glazed over as he pulled out a chair, and sat beside a mysteriously beautiful young woman.
Davy stared after him. "I don't get it. All that fuss over a girl? That's not like Micky, to lose his head like that."
Peter snickered. "Right--that's more your routine."
The shorter man rolled his eyes. "Oh, shut up. Should we go and fetch Micky?"
Mike shook his head. "Nah; let him go. He seems to be havin' a good time."
Sure enough, Micky appeared to be lost in the most fascinating conversation of his life. Not that he was doing much of the talking--uncharacteristically, he was not turning on the patented Dolenz Weirdness in an attempt to charm his companion. Instead, she was dominating the discussion, while he hung, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, on her every word.
"He's really a sight, isn't he," Davy muttered. "I've never seen Micky like this before. He's always been a weird one, but this is new."
"I hope that girl's nice," Peter added.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"I don't think that girl's very nice," Peter firmly stated.
A few weeks had passed since the gig where Micky had met the redheaded young woman, and she was all that he could talk about. It was Imogen this, Imogen that, day and night, and everything in between. She was interfering with Micky's sleep--and, since all he did was talk about her while he was awake, she was indirectly interfering with his bandmates' sleep.
On top of that, Imogen was starting to hamper their music. If she'd been invited to the Pad, then Micky could only focus on her, and not on his playing. If she wasn't there, then he was on the phone with her, or else yammering on and on about her to anyone who would listen--or to anyone who wouldn't.
It was quickly getting on everyone else's nerves.
"I know what you mean, Shotgun," Mike agreed. "This Imogen situation is gettin' outta hand. Micky's a besotted fool, and it's gonna send us all to the poorhouse! If he'd only shut up about the chick, and concentrate on those drums, then maybe we could get some progress made."
"If I didn't know better," Davy mused, "I'd almost be inclined to think that girl's some sort of a witch."
Mike did a confused double-take. "A witch? Where'd that come from?"
Davy shrugged. "I'm not sure, honestly. But have you noticed Micky whenever Imogen's around? I mean, have you ever really taken a good, hard look at him? He's always in some kind of a trancelike state. It's like he's...I don't know, exactly. Going through the motions of his daily life when she's not around. And then, when they're in the same room, he becomes this..."
"Zombie," Peter put in, nodding grimly. "I've seen it, too, David. I think there might be something wrong with his relationship with Imogen, if you can even call it a relationship. She seems to have a strange control over Micky. He needs to snap out of it, for his own good."
"For the good of all of us," Mike decided. "I don't know about this whole witch thing. But Imogen is startin' to turn into a negative influence on Micky. We'd probably better cut in and try to set things straight."
"Okay, guys; I'm off for my date with Imogen," Micky announced, bursting out of the upstairs bedroom. He glided down the spiral railing, heading for the door. Quickly, the others went to block him. "Hey--get outta the way," he nervously chuckled. "I'm gonna be late!"
"I'm not sure you oughta go out with that girl," Mike warned him.
"Why not?" Micky frowned at each of his friends, and started unconsciously fidgeting. "A guy's got a right to go out with his own girlfriend, doesn't he?"
"That's just it, Micky," Davy responded. "We're not sure this Imogen person is the best thing in the world for you."
"What're you talking about?! She's terrific! She's a dream. She's a goddess--"
"She's a girl who's distracting you, and taking up more of your time than she has a right to," Peter pointed out.
Micky glared. "Is that it? You're jealous? You're jealous of Imogen? I can't believe you guys would be so petty and childish!"
"We're not being childish--we're legitimately worried about you!"
"Well, you don't need to be! Everything is perfectly fine! I gotta split," Micky muttered, turning toward the beach door when the others wouldn't move out of the way. "I don't have time for this!"
In practically the same movement, his friends lunged, tackling him. Soon, against his shouts and struggles, they had him tied to the spiral stair railing.
"This is for your own good, Mick," Mike told him, clapping him on the shoulder.
"Let me go! I have to see Imogen," Micky cried, trying to break free. "I have to! I need to see her! She's my darling, my angel--"
"Your troubling obsession," Peter mumbled. "I'll stay here and look after him," he added.
"Right." Davy nodded. "And we'll go and sort out this Imogen person. And try to get Micky back to his senses."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"What in the world makes you think that I have any control over your friend," Imogen wondered, with an innocent tone that was canceled out by the knowing gleam in her green eyes. "And what, might I ask, gives you the right to come barging into my home to spout outrageous accusations?"
Mike waved away her protests. "Don't go spoutin' that nonsense at us, lady! We want Micky back to normal! We know you're doin' somethin' to influence him. He was practically rabid when we stopped him tonight!"
"He was like a madman," Davy concurred. "Now, don't get me wrong--insanity is part of Micky's charm. But we've never seen him the way he is before. Whatever you've done to muck with Micky's mind, we'd like you to stop it."
Imogen smiled charmingly. "Gentlemen, please. I haven't the faintest idea of what you're talking about. But I am starting to get a little bit bored with Micky. I was contemplating breaking up with him on our date tonight. Perhaps I've set my sights elsewhere," she purred, turning her gaze to fix on Mike.
"No! Gosh darn it, you're not gonna snag any of the rest of us the way you snagged Mick," Mike protested, pointing angrily at her before she could make a move. "Goodness knows you're pretty enough. But you're pretty like poison, lady. I don't know if it's some kinda magic, or just a negative influence, but you're not gonna take this a step further! Now, are you gonna let Micky off the hook, or not?"
Imogen grimaced contemptuously. "Very well. Have your friend back, if he means that much to you. I don't know why I wasted my time. None of you are worth my efforts. Now, get out of my home. Micky will be back to whatever you consider normal for him."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
True to Imogen's word, when Mike and Davy returned to the Pad, Micky was his usual self. He was perky and quirky, and very much back to his typical crazy-silly mode.
"Imogen," he echoed when Mike asked him how he felt about her. His face crinkled in confusion. "Who's Imogen? I've never heard of her." Grabbing a bottle of pop from the icebox, he flopped in front of the television. "Anybody want to watch 'The Blob' with me?"
"Thank goodness that's over," Davy muttered. "I hope the next girl he falls for is better than that one was."
Fandom: The Monkees
Prompt: Table #6/Prompt #42: Darling
Character/Pairing: Mike Nesmith, Davy Jones, Peter Tork, Micky Dolenz, original character
Rating: G
Summary: It all happened in an instant.
Authors Notes: Fic = Mine. Characters = Not Mine. Crossposted to
ficlet_zone for Challenge #15: The Police Song Titles, and to shortfics for Challenge #4: That Was Weird.It all happened in an instant. In one moment, Micky was banging away at the drums, feeding rhythm to his fellow Monkees as they worked hard at their latest gig.
In the next moment, he looked up...
...and was transported to a mysterious Paradise at the sight of her. Gleaming auburn hair cascaded gracefully around a pale oval face, and a pair of piercing emerald eyes that instantly made Micky think that their owner could peer right through to his soul. She was perfect, an Aphrodite, looking so out of place at her table in the back of the discotheque. She was a vision.
And she was smiling right at him.
In that instant, everything seemed to blur around him. Everything that wasn't her was faded and unreal. The concerned looks his friends gave him, the frantic sotto voce calls to him; none of it existed.
There was nothing in Micky's world anymore but that flawless face.
"Micky?" Peter nudged him anxiously. "Micky, are you alright? You've been playing like a robot. What's the matter with you?"
Davy waved a hand before the drummer's face. "Micky, can you hear us? Snap out of it!" He snapped his fingers a few times, frowning when he got no reaction. "He's out like a light!"
"Well, at least it happened at the end of the gig," Mike pointed out. He turned to the crowd, waving. "Thanks, everybody; that's it for the night. Have fun, and be good!" That said, he turned to join his bandmates at fussing--
--only for Micky to rise from behind his drum kit, and walk dazedly over to a table at the back of the discotheque. His eyes were almost glazed over as he pulled out a chair, and sat beside a mysteriously beautiful young woman.
Davy stared after him. "I don't get it. All that fuss over a girl? That's not like Micky, to lose his head like that."
Peter snickered. "Right--that's more your routine."
The shorter man rolled his eyes. "Oh, shut up. Should we go and fetch Micky?"
Mike shook his head. "Nah; let him go. He seems to be havin' a good time."
Sure enough, Micky appeared to be lost in the most fascinating conversation of his life. Not that he was doing much of the talking--uncharacteristically, he was not turning on the patented Dolenz Weirdness in an attempt to charm his companion. Instead, she was dominating the discussion, while he hung, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, on her every word.
"He's really a sight, isn't he," Davy muttered. "I've never seen Micky like this before. He's always been a weird one, but this is new."
"I hope that girl's nice," Peter added.
"I don't think that girl's very nice," Peter firmly stated.
A few weeks had passed since the gig where Micky had met the redheaded young woman, and she was all that he could talk about. It was Imogen this, Imogen that, day and night, and everything in between. She was interfering with Micky's sleep--and, since all he did was talk about her while he was awake, she was indirectly interfering with his bandmates' sleep.
On top of that, Imogen was starting to hamper their music. If she'd been invited to the Pad, then Micky could only focus on her, and not on his playing. If she wasn't there, then he was on the phone with her, or else yammering on and on about her to anyone who would listen--or to anyone who wouldn't.
It was quickly getting on everyone else's nerves.
"I know what you mean, Shotgun," Mike agreed. "This Imogen situation is gettin' outta hand. Micky's a besotted fool, and it's gonna send us all to the poorhouse! If he'd only shut up about the chick, and concentrate on those drums, then maybe we could get some progress made."
"If I didn't know better," Davy mused, "I'd almost be inclined to think that girl's some sort of a witch."
Mike did a confused double-take. "A witch? Where'd that come from?"
Davy shrugged. "I'm not sure, honestly. But have you noticed Micky whenever Imogen's around? I mean, have you ever really taken a good, hard look at him? He's always in some kind of a trancelike state. It's like he's...I don't know, exactly. Going through the motions of his daily life when she's not around. And then, when they're in the same room, he becomes this..."
"Zombie," Peter put in, nodding grimly. "I've seen it, too, David. I think there might be something wrong with his relationship with Imogen, if you can even call it a relationship. She seems to have a strange control over Micky. He needs to snap out of it, for his own good."
"For the good of all of us," Mike decided. "I don't know about this whole witch thing. But Imogen is startin' to turn into a negative influence on Micky. We'd probably better cut in and try to set things straight."
"Okay, guys; I'm off for my date with Imogen," Micky announced, bursting out of the upstairs bedroom. He glided down the spiral railing, heading for the door. Quickly, the others went to block him. "Hey--get outta the way," he nervously chuckled. "I'm gonna be late!"
"I'm not sure you oughta go out with that girl," Mike warned him.
"Why not?" Micky frowned at each of his friends, and started unconsciously fidgeting. "A guy's got a right to go out with his own girlfriend, doesn't he?"
"That's just it, Micky," Davy responded. "We're not sure this Imogen person is the best thing in the world for you."
"What're you talking about?! She's terrific! She's a dream. She's a goddess--"
"She's a girl who's distracting you, and taking up more of your time than she has a right to," Peter pointed out.
Micky glared. "Is that it? You're jealous? You're jealous of Imogen? I can't believe you guys would be so petty and childish!"
"We're not being childish--we're legitimately worried about you!"
"Well, you don't need to be! Everything is perfectly fine! I gotta split," Micky muttered, turning toward the beach door when the others wouldn't move out of the way. "I don't have time for this!"
In practically the same movement, his friends lunged, tackling him. Soon, against his shouts and struggles, they had him tied to the spiral stair railing.
"This is for your own good, Mick," Mike told him, clapping him on the shoulder.
"Let me go! I have to see Imogen," Micky cried, trying to break free. "I have to! I need to see her! She's my darling, my angel--"
"Your troubling obsession," Peter mumbled. "I'll stay here and look after him," he added.
"Right." Davy nodded. "And we'll go and sort out this Imogen person. And try to get Micky back to his senses."
"What in the world makes you think that I have any control over your friend," Imogen wondered, with an innocent tone that was canceled out by the knowing gleam in her green eyes. "And what, might I ask, gives you the right to come barging into my home to spout outrageous accusations?"
Mike waved away her protests. "Don't go spoutin' that nonsense at us, lady! We want Micky back to normal! We know you're doin' somethin' to influence him. He was practically rabid when we stopped him tonight!"
"He was like a madman," Davy concurred. "Now, don't get me wrong--insanity is part of Micky's charm. But we've never seen him the way he is before. Whatever you've done to muck with Micky's mind, we'd like you to stop it."
Imogen smiled charmingly. "Gentlemen, please. I haven't the faintest idea of what you're talking about. But I am starting to get a little bit bored with Micky. I was contemplating breaking up with him on our date tonight. Perhaps I've set my sights elsewhere," she purred, turning her gaze to fix on Mike.
"No! Gosh darn it, you're not gonna snag any of the rest of us the way you snagged Mick," Mike protested, pointing angrily at her before she could make a move. "Goodness knows you're pretty enough. But you're pretty like poison, lady. I don't know if it's some kinda magic, or just a negative influence, but you're not gonna take this a step further! Now, are you gonna let Micky off the hook, or not?"
Imogen grimaced contemptuously. "Very well. Have your friend back, if he means that much to you. I don't know why I wasted my time. None of you are worth my efforts. Now, get out of my home. Micky will be back to whatever you consider normal for him."
True to Imogen's word, when Mike and Davy returned to the Pad, Micky was his usual self. He was perky and quirky, and very much back to his typical crazy-silly mode.
"Imogen," he echoed when Mike asked him how he felt about her. His face crinkled in confusion. "Who's Imogen? I've never heard of her." Grabbing a bottle of pop from the icebox, he flopped in front of the television. "Anybody want to watch 'The Blob' with me?"
"Thank goodness that's over," Davy muttered. "I hope the next girl he falls for is better than that one was."
