When Love Comes Knockin' [Davy Jones/Monkees Fanfiction]

three

The train wasn't awfully crowded, and the trio was able to find a compartment all to themselves. Mike had brought along a book and sat attempting to read, while Micky disrupted his efforts by continuing to talk to him, not seeming to notice that Mike wasn't paying much attention.

Davy, meanwhile, sat against the window, his head pressed to the glass. Thoughts of Pamela raced through his mind. How could this have happened, and so soon? Just yesterday he was seriously thinking about a future with this girl. He'd never gone that far with anybody else, been so committed that it hurt. How could he not have noticed, she was never that into him? How could he have been fooled so easily? And yet, after all of it, why was he sitting here, missing her and wishing she were here?

When Davy next blinked awake, all of the lights in the compartment were off. He struggled to adjust his eyes to the dark, and gradually could see that Mike and Micky were both sound asleep.

Davy straightened up, his head having still been leaning on the window.

He must have drifted off too, at some point during his thinking. He shifted into a more comfortable position and allowed himself one big sigh. His body begged him to go back to sleep, give it a rest, quit thinking about her. But Davy's mind would not be silenced again. Pamela was back, suddenly, in his thoughts. Only now it was her and that – that Gary, giggling like a couple of kids as they only too gleefully stabbed Davy in the back. It would be no trouble for Gary, a guy with such a strong handshake.

Micky stirred nearby, the sudden movement abruptly bringing Davy back down to earth. He lay down again, as comfortably as he could without kicking Mike, and shut his eyes, praying that sleep would come and take him again soon. But deep down, he had a feeling this was going to be a restless night.

–

The next day or so passed uneventfully, a seemingly neverending train ride from California to Texas. The group passed time any way they could until, finally, they pulled into Dallas. Almost immediately after they stepped off the train, they were ushered into a big black car. Davy had hope that maybe this special treatment was because of their status; Mike, however, sent that idea crashing down by informing his friends that this was his mother's usual driver.

After spending over a day on the train, Davy understandably was not enthused about getting back in a vehicle. The drive out to Bette Nesmith's estate took an hour at least, and by the time they arrived, Davy would have been okay if he never saw or a car or train again.

Bette's house was relatively secluded, out on a sloping, tree-covered hill outside of the city. The nearest neighbor, Davy could see, was a small ranch house up the hill, which when compared to Bette's house looked about the size of a golf ball. Bette's house was a whole other story, for that matter. It was big and sprawling, something you would expect only from the owner of a million-dollar corporation. It looked out of place on this quaint little hill, having such a commanding air about it.

Bette stood in front of the house, waving gleefully. Davy swore he heard Mike give a quiet, dreading sigh beside him.

The car slowed to a stop, and the boys piled out. Bette ran up to immediately embrace her son. Mike, embarrassed, returned the hug awkwardly.

Once mother and son separated, Bette turned to acknowledge his friends.

"Boys, you look wonderful," she said smiling, her eyes focusing a little more on Davy than Micky.

Davy knew she was just saying that. Mike must have told her all about what happened. She seemed to be searching his face for some sort of sadness. He mustered up a smile.

"Thanks for having us," said Micky.

"Oh, it's my pleasure! Come on inside, I'll show you where you're staying."

The inside of the house was just as intimidating as the outside. Davy couldn't fathom a house having that many rooms. Mike and Bette navigated their way through the almost-palace easily, leaving Micky and Davy struggling to keep up. Finally, at the end of a corridor, Bette pushed open the door to a smaller guest room.

"These two rooms here," she gestured to the open door and the one beside it, "are for you. You may have your pick."

Davy and Micky exchanged a look.

"Now, I'm sure you're worn out after your trip. Take as long as you need to relax. Make yourselves comfortable. I'll have somebody come and tell you when supper's ready." Bette put on a smile. "Bathroom's just around the corner there."

"Thanks," said Davy.

And so, Micky and Davy attempted to settle into their respective rooms. As he lay attempting to nap, Davy could only think about how comfortable this bed was compared to his bed back in the Monkees' home in Malibu. Yet, somehow, because it was so unfamiliar, Davy couldn't seem to fall asleep in it.

He didn't know how much time passed, but soon, he heard a knock on his wall.

Confused, he picked his head up and looked to the door. But, when the knock sounded again, he could definitely conclude that it was coming from the wall and not the door.

"Davy?" Micky's voice came through, muffled by the wall between them. "You asleep?"

"Not a wink, if I tried," Davy replied.

A pause. "Wanna do something?"

"Like what?" Davy asked skeptically.

"I dunno, explore? As long as we're back by dinnertime."

He pondered it. "Sure, I suppose. Where are we going?"

"I know the place as well as you do," said Micky. "Let's just wander. See if we can figure the place out."

"Alright, then."

The boys met each other in the hallway and began to curiously tread through Bette's mansion.

"I wonder what she did with Mike," Micky said lowly to Davy, who had to stifle a laugh.

"In the dungeon, maybe?" he whispered back.

The duo traipsed through floors and hallways, making absolutely no sense of the house's layout. Eventually they stumbled upon a door leading out to a back patio, adorned with everything from chairs to a firepit to a bar. They ventured outside and settled in two of the lawn chairs.

"Now this I could sleep in," Micky said, stretching out in his chair. "We should get a couple of these for home."

"How much d'you think they'd run at?" Davy challenged.

"Don't kill the mojo, man."

Some more time passed, until eventually Micky declared, "I have to use the restroom."

Davy opened one eye and glanced up at him halfheartedly.

"Do you remember where she said it was?"

"It was the first hallway," Davy tried to remember. "Right when we walked in, there was a room to the left..."

A pause. "I'll figure it out," Micky waved it off. "Just don't get too bored without me."

Davy gave a mirthless laugh.

Once Micky was gone, Davy found himself looking around at Bette's enormous backyard. A big wooden fence separated it from the neighbor's yard, still allowing plenty of space for each. He looked around at all of the trees, the fluffy clouds overhead, the bluebirds flying by him...

He stopped. Beyond the fence, in the neighbor's yard, he could see the top of a stable. He craned his neck upward, trying to get a better glimpse. Sure enough, behind the small building, he could see a horse's tail swishing back and forth.

He thought about it for a minute, turning to the small ranch house on the property. He saw no sign of life there.

You know what, he figured, I need this. This was the only thing that could make him feel better about life right now: revisiting his old passion.

Looking to make sure Micky wasn't coming back already, Davy turned to the tall fence and dutifully began climbing.

–

Oh, and just so you know, I do intend on making as many puns as humanly possible lol.