"Three Down" - THE MONKEES (Micky, Peter, Mike)

[beatlelover22]

AN - Okay, so this is a fic for my friend Meg, featuring sneezy Micky, Mike and eventually Peter. Davy, however, just doesn't get sick. Right? Hope you like it! Also, this is kind of a spin of an episode called "On the Line", so that's where I got the idea from. Hope everyone's cool with that!

Title: "Three Down"

Fandom: The Monkees

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters of The Monkees, nor any plots or subplots, quite possibly because they're actually people. Any lines, quotes, dialogue definitely isn't mine (if it's part of an episode's transcript). .

Warning: None? I don't think so anyway...

Description: Micky is down with a cold and manages to pass it on to Mike and Peter. Davy's immune system is invincible (or so he claims). But is it really? Hmmm...

Notes: This'll be a one-shot, probably.

I.

"Fellas, we need a job." Michael Nesmith announced one day. "I call a Monkee meeting!"

Upon hearing this, both Peter and Davy sat down on the couch, ready to listen.

Mike frowned. "Where's Micky?"

Davy shrugged. "Well, I dunno. Micky!"

"Micky!" Peter shouted.

Mike sighed. "One, two--"

"MICKY!" the three of them yelled.

"I'm coming, I'm coming, jeez." Micky mumbled. His hair hadn't been brushed and he was still in his boxers. He sat down and joined the guys. "What'd I miss?"

"We need a job." Mike said flatly. "Rent's comin' up and we ain't got nothin' to pay it with."

Peter rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "We could use money, maybe."

Mike nodded. "Good idea Pete, but money's gotta be earned."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"How about we apply for a job?" Davy suggested. "There's always job openings and stuff. We could try it."

"Now you're talkin'. Let's look through the paper and see what we can find."

Meanwhile, Micky was furiously scrubbing at his nose.

"You okay there, Micky?" Davy asked first, watching him rub.

"Sorry," he apologised, "I just feel like I have to... to... hhh'ISHHHHOO!" The sneeze was powerful and seemed to have come out of nowhere.

"Bless you!" the boys chorused. Mike continued to flip through the daily newspaper. "Well here's somethin'. The ad says--"

"Hurr'ESHHHOO!"

"Bless ya, shotgun. That didn't sound too good." Mike mentioned, setting down the paper.

"I'm fine, I'm f-fine."

"You don't look very fine to me." Peter pointed out. "You're shivering."

"And sneezing." Davy added.

Micky rubbed his nose. "And my head hurts."

"Well, that settles it!" Mike said, slamming his head on the table. Micky winced.

"Our job is to take care of Micky!"

"TISHHH'uhhh..."

Davy patted him on the shoulder in a sympathetic manner. "Bless."

***

"Okay, first things first. We need soup." MIke told the group. They had already tucked Micky in bed and were now reading off a checklist Mick had created.

"What kind of soup?" Peter inquired.

"Chicken noodle of course. Me grandmother used to make it when I was a lad." Davy murmured, going off into a day dream.

"Perfect. So we'll need that, tissues, cold medicine, tea--"

"I can do tea, too!" Davy piped up.

"...tea, blankets and entertainment." Mike finished. "Sound good?"

Davy turned away and walked into the kitchen. "Great. I'll get started on the soup."

"I'll work on entertainment!" Peter announced.

Mike glanced down at the list. "Huh. Well, I guess that leaves me goin' to the store to pick up a few things."

***

"Is that gonna be all for you today, dear?" The clerk was staring a a heaping pile of assorted items; tissue boxes, medicine, water heaters, blankets and throat lozenges.

Mike nodded. "Yes ma'am. Hhh'nnngttt!" He pinched his nose and sniffed experimentally. "Excuse me!"

"Bless you. I do hope you feel better."

The Texan blushed. "Oh, no ma'am these ahh... ahhh'ssHHTT! These aren't for me."

"Maybe that should be." The woman said knowingly, tapping her nose. "Total's gonna be $32.21"

***

"Mmm... this tea's really good, Davy. What flavour is it again?"

"Lemon Zinger." Davy set the steaming bowl of soup on Micky's nightstand. "It's very hot." he warned.

Micky took another long sip of his tea.

"Oh!" Davy smacked his forehead. "I totally forgot! Do you want cream in yours?"

"Actually, it's fi--"

"No, I'll be right back!" Davy took back the cup and dashed into the kitchen, hastily setting the mug down and searching for the cream.

"Hahh... ahhhHH! Hah'ASHHOOO!"

"Bless you!" Peter called out, picking up Micky's cup. "Mmm... is this Lemon Zinger?" He asked, taking a quick drink.

"Peter, no! That's Micky's cup!" Davy hissed, pouring some cream into it.

"Oops."

"It's okay, he wouldn't mind." Davy assured his friend. "It doesn't matter."

***

By the time Mike had arrived back at the appartment, he'd already been forced to open a box of tissues.

"Iihhh... ih'SSSSH! Hur'ESSSSH! Hhh'nxxXTT!" He stifled three sneezes into a fist, then rubbed his knuckles under his nostrils and groaned. Who knew colds could spread so quickly?

The young man snatched a tissue and buried his face in it. Mike's breath started hitching again but before he could sneeze, he blew into the tissue and sniffled. "Sdddff... ugh." He pulled the car into the lot and hauled the groceries up to their complex.

"Mike!" Davy exclaimed, as soon as he had opened the door. "Micky's got a fever!"

"Fever?" Mike's eyebrows knitted together. "For how long?"

"Well, he said he's been hot for about half an hour now."

Mike's fingers gently brushed up under his nose. "Here's what we'll do. I'll give him the medicine, we'll put the fan on high and I have some wet cloths right here we can put on his forehead. Might br-bring the fever down." Mike's breath started to hitch again, but he quickly mashed his nose into the back of his hand.

"Here," Mike handed the groceries to Davy. "I'll be in Micky's room."

He went in and sat on the edge of Micky's bed. "Hiya, Mick."

"Itd's hod in here." Micky said miserably. "And Peter won't quit sneezing."

Mike laughed, out of it. "And Peter won't quit sneezing. Right, right." His eyes widened, suddenly realising what he'd repeated. "Peter won't quit sneezing?!"

"Huhh'SHHHAhhh!" Peter sneezed in to the crook of his elbow. "Sorry, Mike. I accidentally drank Micky's tea."

Mike sighed. "That's okay, Pete. It wasn't your fault. Just hop in bed with Micky, that's makes two of you." Three, Mike's mind reminded him, if you count yourself.

"I've got wet rags right here!" Davy announced, placed one on Peter's head and one on Micky's.

"Ahhh... that fehhh... that feels good." Micky exhaled, closing his eyes. "I think I'm gonna try to go to sleep."

"Hurr'ESSHhahh..." Peter sneezed sleepily, his eyes already closed.

"Bless you!" Mike and Davy said together. As soon as the two young men were breathing rhythmically, Mike put his hand on Davy's shoulder. "Let's sit in the living room and let them rest."

Davy followed Mike out and gently shut the door behind them.

"Man," Davy said, putting his feet up on the couch. "I sure do feel bad for them. They look miserable."

Without warning, Mike's nose tickled mercilessly, so much so that he didn't even have time to stifle. LIghtening fast, he whipped his blue wool hat off his head and covered his mouth and nose with it. "Kk'SHHHOO! HahhT'SHHHOOoo! Ahhh... ahHH! CSHHH!"

"Bless." Davy said suspiciously. "Mike, you're not...?"

"Of course dot." the young man said thickly. "Just tired." He collapsed into the recliner. "Let's watch some television, I'm beat."

Davy nodded slowly. "Sure thing."

But as soon as they were watching some silly cartoon, Davy watched his friend pull has hat down over his eyes and began snoring. Rather loudly.

Poor guy, Davy thought to himself as he draped a blanket over Mike. Three Monkees down, one to go.

[Invisibles]

Fgthyjukijunbhyvg I love thiiiiiiis!! Thank you so much!

[beatlelover22]

Fgthyjukijunbhyvg I love thiiiiiiis!! Thank you so much!

I'm so glad you liked it! :3 I loved yours too!