When Marcia and Davy reached the back door, Marcia kicked it to have somebody let them in. It turned out that Peter, Mike and Micky were standing near the door waiting for them to return.
"Who is it?" Peter called out, a smile on his face.
"Just open the door, Peter." Mike said angrily, "It's cold out there for them."
Peter glared at Mike for a second, then opened the door for Marcia and Davy. The two of them walked in carrying their load of wood. Davy gave Peter an angry glance.
"Who is it, indeed." He growled quietly as he walked past.
Peter closed the door and looked at Mike.
"It was just a joke, Mike." Peter told him.
"Not a very good one." Mike replied.
"Yeah, you're the judge of humor." Peter retorted.
"Stow it you two." Micky whispered, "We're guests here."
Fortunately, none of the Anderson girls heard this exchange.
Otherwise, they would've become aware of another well-hidden fact:
That Mike and Peter never really got along. Not only were their tastes in music different (Mike liked country and Peter liked folk music), but they had opposite personalities as well.
(Peter was more laid back, while Mike was the impatient type).
The three Monkees walked back into the den where Marcia and Davy were placing the wood in a hamper next to the fireplace. It was already beginning to get cold in the house.
"Excuse me ladies, but do you think I can make a phone call to my wife and tell her I won't be home tonight?" Mike asked.
"Yeah, I should call Samantha." Micky said.
"Of course!" Chris replied. "I should've asked you guys a long time ago."
All four Monkees followed Chris over to the phone near the kitchen and left them alone for privacy. She then sat down with her sisters in front of the fire. A few minutes later, they came back and told her that they had placed calls to their loved ones.
"Thanks, Chris, we appreciate it." Davy said as the Monkees joined the girls in front of the fire. He sat next to Marcia, Micky sat next to Stephanie, Mike sat next to Arlene and Peter plopped down next to Chris.
They wrapped blankets around themselves and simply sat looking at the fire for a long time. Soon enough, the fireplace was the only light in the room.
"Isn't this cozy, Micky?" Stephanie asked.
"Yeah it is." Micky smiled.
Peter looked at Chris and admired how the fire shown on her face and highlighted the soft brown hair she and her sisters had. He cleared his throat.
"Chris?"
"Yeah, Peter?"
"What is Chris short for?"
"It's short for Christine." Chris replied. "It was my grandmother's name."
"It's very pretty."
"Thank you." Chris smiled. She then noticed that Peter was looking at the others. They were all either dozing off or having private chats with each other. Chris looked back at Peter, understanding why he was watching the others.
"And so are you." Peter whispered in her ear.
Chris and Peter leaned towards each other for a kiss?.
Just then the lights decided to come back on. Chris and Peter pulled away before anybody saw them.
"Oh hurray, we have lights again." Marcia said without much enthusiasm.
The now-lit den revealed the eight of them were sitting closer to each other than when they had first sat down. A little embarrassed, they pulled away from each other. A low rumble from the basement told them the furnace was now working again.
"Does everyone want to call it a night and go to sleep?" Chris asked her sisters and the famous rock group.
"Yeah, I guess so. Why not. Ok." Were the various replies. Chris got up and closed up the fireplace and everyone got up and made their way upstairs.