Do it in the Name of Love

-- PART TWO --

Being friends for so long, the boys knew when each of the others was having problems. They retreated, as a unit, to George's apartment, blissfully void of meddling family members. Their guests had settled down on the balcony for some post-feast conversation, so they knew that they wouldn't be missed for quite some time. The downtime was absolutely heaven sent. It had to be some kind of universal rule- family get togethers were required to be awkward, long, and exhausting. Probably the reason that people only got together around the holidays and birthdays-- a day or two out of the year was the longest prolonged exposure they could stand.

"Alright, guys, so what's up?" Aaron began the conversation in as straightforward a manner as he could.

"Family is up. And around. And everywhere at once!" LB answered. "Mom is driving me insane! All those stories about my childhood... first words, first bath, first trip to the doctor... heck, my first diaper change!"

"Awww, but those pictures were so sweet. Little cutesy-wutsie you sitting in that tub looking like---" Aaron chuckled.

"Don't help."

"Sorry."

"Well, dad and I have been this way for as long as I can remember. Probably ever since I became a teenager and showed that I had an actual personality, we've had problems. Hates absolutely everything about me. But he's really bad today." Jeff laughed, the iciness still evident as he spoke. "Maybe I should tell him that I'm out of work right now, too. Get him really ticked off."

George smiled ruefully. "Sounds easier than trying to get this damn CD released. Sarah doesn't understand what's been going on. She expects me to act like nothing is wrong, but everything is wrong right now!" He took a deep breath.

"You still love her though, right?" LB asked, a touch of worry in his voice.

"Of course I still love her. That's what hurts. I desperately want to spend time with her and forget about everything for a while, but everything is so crazy right now that I can't even afford to do that----"

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"Perhaps the boys have a Swiss army knife or something similar laying around here." Annie Fisher clucked her tongue, appalled to find dishes stashed behind the couch that had begun to grow a green fuzz. Definitely not a Swiss army knife.

Charles held a bottle of champagne in his hands, waiting impatiently for something to pop the cork with. He grunted his agreement, set the bottle on an endtable, and joined her in rifling through drawers. Annie walked over towards a desk in the corner, pulling out the drawers there as well. It was a long shot, but hey, maybe a letter opener would do the trick. A small, metallic paperweight caught her eye. "Now what's this?"

"Unless it has pliers, a screwdriver, scissors, a knife, and corkscrew all rolled into one, I'm really not interested---"

She held it up for all to see. The harsh fluorescent light from a standing lamp in the corner danced over the smooth surface.

Chris Lohr stared curiously at the object as Mrs. Fisher set it on the table. "Strangest paperweight I've ever seen."

"Maybe it's a toy!" Roxie giggled, popping up out of nowhere. She took it up in her hands and rolled it around like a playground ball, mesmerized by it's beauty. "And it's kinda warm too!"

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"Guys!" Aaron finally cut off the family gripe session. "We all have issues with our families. Heck, my brother and I haven't gotten along either, but I'm willing to push that to the back of my mind for the sake of having a nice, peaceful, normal Thanksgiving."

A bright flash of light came through the window that led out to the balcony.

"Normal, eh?" LB's eyes went wide.

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The four crashed through the door in a state of panic. No one was there!

"Oh God." George's eyes darted around the apartment.

"What was that?" Jeff noted the bottle of champagne sitting at the desk, unopened. Whatever had happened, it had happened in a hurry. His father hadn't even taken the time to open the bottle.

LB walked to the middle of the room and knelt down as something caught his eye. He stood back up, the all-too-familiar orb sitting in the palm of his hand. "I'll give you three guesses, and the first two don't count."

"You've got to be kidding me." Jeff groaned.

"They must have seen this, gotten curious, and been transported---" LB's sentence hung in midair.

"But the orb should have gone with them, then." Aaron pointed out. "It shouldn't still be here with us, unless---"

"They didn't activate it themselves." Jeff cocked his head. "Only Kez has access to the other orb, right?"

"Well, Jailbird Politician did, but he's out of the picture." LB set his jaw. This was bad. VERY bad.

"Never mind all of this guess work." George snapped. "We have to go after them. Who knows what might happen to them in the 60's?"

"Forgetting something." Jeff took the orb from LB. "It's not that simple. How will they trust us there?"

"What?"

"We're the Monkees there, remember? They won't recognize us."

"Oh, they'll recognize us, alright." LB corrected him, still staring at the palm of his hand as if the orb still sat there. "They'll recognize the Monkees. Mom's the biggest fan this side of California."

"That's something I'm willing to deal with." George pressed. "We can't leave them there, and you all know it."

Jeff ran his hands over the orb. Who'd have thought such a small thing could cause so much trouble? It was barely the size of a baseball and yet it had the power to change lives! "He's right. We have to go." Jeff replied reluctantly. "But let's be clear on this. We can't, under any circumstances, reveal ourselves. This is going to be strange enough for our relatives without telling them what's been happening to us this past year."

"Yeah. Right. We know the drill, mon capitan." Aaron said after a long moment.

"Maybe we can ask Kez why the orb malfunctioned." LB added hopefully. "I mean... providing Weitmagen didn't come back and kill him in his sleep or something."

The others stared at him, horrified at the suggestion.

"Just keeping the mood light." LB cracked awkwardly.

"Keep working on that humor thing," Aaron rubbed his forehead. "because you're not quite there yet."

Jeff felt the orb begin to glow and radiate heat. "Come on. Let's go." A familiar tingling sensation filled each of them as the transformation began.

```*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*`*```


"Where the devil are we?" Charles Geddis glanced around a room lit by the red glow of two lava lamps spaced on end tables kitty-corner to one another.

"Oh damnit!" A 20-something kid moaned from the corner.

"Watch your mouth!" Annie chastised the youth's foul language.

"I-I'm sorry miss... uh, miss..."

"Fisher. Mrs. Annie Fisher."

Fisher? Uh-oh. This couldn't be happening. It had to be some kind of mistake. Yeah, yours, brainiac. Kez fumed silently. He should have been more careful. Turning to the other four in the room, there was little doubt that they were related to Jeff, Aaron, and George.

"And who might you be?" LB's mom glared at Kez's bell-bottom jeans, tye-dye T-shirt, love beads, and long, stringy black hair disapprovingly. Kez glanced down at his clothes and back up, "What?" written across his face.

"You can call me Kez. I'm sorry about what happened. Just give me a minute or two and you'll be right back where you--"

"Hold it, young man." Charles headed for the door. "We aren't staying here a moment longer.

"NO!" Kez jumped up and rushed after him. It was hard enough to explain his room and clothing without having to come up with a good excuse for a whole world stuck in the 60's. He wedged himself between Mr. Geddis and the door, splaying arms across the door protectively. "It's... raining out there. You'll get wet."

Charles pushed Kez aside and threw the door open, sticking his head outside. "Well, imagine that. No rain. I'll be." The older man marched out the door, followed closely by LB's mom, Sarah, and Aaron's brother and sister.

Kez gulped. He'd been adjusting his orb on this end and figured that he must have inadvertently activated the other. He had spent the months since the actors' last visit working out the problem that had caused them to loose their memories and think themselves the real Monkees. Well, he'd fixed that, but now it appeared that he had opened a new can of worms. Now he had two pressing matters - track down the boys to retrieve their family members.

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Jeff came to, finding himself and the others sprawled across the floor of the pad. Bumpy ride, but heck, at least they'd made it through. "Everyone doin' okay?" He drawled in the familiar Texas accent. They'd come here so often now that he almost didn't notice the changes that occurred each time they crossed over here. Almost.

"Ah, home sweet away-from-home." Aaron got up, brushing a stray curl from his eyes.

"Funny 'ow Ah'm gettin' used tah this." George, too, was up and examining himself in the mirror.

"Great. Now let's find our families and get the heck out of here." LB held back a fit of laughter when he caught sight of what George was up to. "Will you get over yourself? Mirrors, mirrors, mirrors!"

"'Ey! It's not like Ah'm that bad!"

The other three rolled their eyes and headed for the door.

"Well, Ah'm not!" He hollered. "Guys? Guys! Wait up!"

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Kez tailed the displaced family group from 2001 for blocks and blocks. He couldn't hear them at the distance he was holding back at, but he could imagine what they were saying. And thinking. It was obvious that they knew they weren't in Kansas anymore.

"This is too weird." Chris' gaze shifted from spot to spot, taking in everything at once. "It's like the 1960's all over again. And everywhere at once."

The two members of the group who had been alive during that era, (Annie Fisher and Charles Geddis) nodded in agreement. It was like a bad flashback to their teenage years.

"But how--"

"We need to find some place to make a phone call." Charles declared after a few more minutes of wandering.

Kez winced. He heard that part loud and clear. Telephones weren't quite the same here, and who knew what would happen if they tried to call their own phone numbers? Might get the Pentagon for all he knew.

The group stopped to discuss their next move, not all being in the "let's make a phone call" camp. Kez ducked into a side alley to do the same thing-- plan >>>his<<< next move. As he was about to peek around the corner and check on his 'charges', Kez was snagged by a strong pair of hands.

"I didn't do it! Get off of me!" Kez yelped.

"Shhhh! Ya wanna be drawin' their attention?" The welcome face of Jeff--- well, Jeff as Mike--- came into Kez's line of sight.

"Boy am I glad to see you guys." Kez gasped, heart pounding a mile a minute.

"Wish we could say the same thing." Aaron replied. "Guess you got some visitors."

"I actually might have a teensy bit to do with that." Kez mumbled.

"What was that? I didn't quite catch what you said. It sounded like you confessing to causing this." Aaron accused, not, however, looking surprised.

"Ooops?" was all that Kez could think to say.

"Fabulous!" LB exploded. "What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that I was fixing the orbs and then----"

"Never mind. We don't have time to point fingers." Jeff stepped in to break up the fight. "We're not mad. Just.... frustrated. This couldn't have happened at a worse time for us, s'all."

Kez was grateful that they weren't going to rip him limb from limb. Lord knew that they had enough reason to do so. He nodded his understanding and glanced back around the corner of the building. The pack of relatives was on the move again. "So what's the plan?"

"Mainly it was to find you and to have you send them back." LB explained. "As you can imagine, we'd like to avoid direct contact with them when we're like this."

"Vanity thing, huh?"

Jeff bristled. "No. It's a "we don't want to endanger their lives with the knowledge of this place" thing. You've seen how the knowledge of parallel universes placed in the wrong hands can be bad news."

Kez nodded. "Yeah. I remember." He pushed back flashbacks to Weitmagen trying to destroy him and his friends with that
Anti-Performance Law. That was something he never wanted to go through again. Period.

"Eh, fellahs? Where did yah say they were at?" George looked around the corner anxiously.

"Right over---" Kez stopped. They were gone. "Now where did they wander off to?"

Walking out from under cover, into the street, Kez was about to report that the rogue family members were no where to be found. That was when he was jumped from behind by Chris Lohr.

"Following us, huh?" Chris looked ready to beat their believed stalker to a pulp. His knuckles flexed in readiness.

Jeff tensed. Kez was in trouble. "So much fer not gettin' involved." He sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. This was going to be quite interesting. He approached the group assembled in the street as calmly as he could.

"S'cuse me, but, is there some kind a'problem here?" Jeff felt downright queasy when his dad broke away and walked over to face him.

"This a friend of yours?" He pointed at Kez disdainfully.

"Yep." Jeff forced a smile, concentrating on pretending that this was just another acting job. That was the only way he was going to get through this. "So what'd ya get yerself into this time, Shotgun?"

Chris dropped Kez, who yelped as he crashed to the pavement in a heap. He rolled over and tried his best to get up, only making it as far as his knees before speaking. "Guess these people think I was stalking them, Mike."

Jeff shifted his weight as his dad turned back to stare at him for a long moment. He knows. Jeff thought to himself. He can see straight through me and---

"I know you, don't I?" Mr. Geddis templed his fingers in thought. "Mike... Mike..." His face suddenly lit up. "Nesmith! You're Mike Nesmith!"

Relieved beyond the telling of it, Jeff nodded his wool-hatted head. "Guilty as charged. Ya know me?"

"Know you? Why, I used to have all of your albums! You and the other Monkees." Jeff watched with mild amusement as his father fumbled for his words. "I mean do. DO have all of your albums!"

"Aren't yah gonna intrahduce the rest of us, Mike?" George stuck his head around the corner, relieved that it was Jeff who had broken the ice, and not him. The relief evaporated however, the instant he made eye contact with Sarah. She approached him slowly and he fought the urge to back away from her. This was too weird.

"Hey there." She smiled. "My name's Sarah. I'm a big fan."

Wow. She never told me that. As a matter of fact, I don't remember her ever--- George had a moment of realization. Sarah you little schmoozing liar! 'Course, I probably would do the same thing in your position, but... He smiled, then realized that she was waiting for him to acknowledge her. "Ah know." He returned her smile before realizing exactly what he had said. Rats. "Ah.. Ah, mean... Ah know yah must be exhausted an' confused."

"And the man with the foot in his mouth is Davy Jones." Jeff chuckled.

"Flirting with the girls the moment he walks into a room, that's our Davy." Aaron walked up next with LB beside him.

"An' that's Micky Dolenz on the left, an' Peter Tork on the right." Jeff completed the introductions, feeling like the world's biggest liar. Of course, he had no choice, but it still felt wrong.

LB made eye contact with his mom at that moment. She hadn't needed the introductions, he knew. Once a Monkees groupie, always a Monkees groupie. Annie Fisher looked to be in heaven, and LB felt his skin crawl. Oh great. My own mother is making eyes at me. How much more bizarre can this day get? I swear, she starts flirting and asking for my autograph and---

"..back to the pad an' we can sort things out there." LB tuned back into what Jeff was saying. Evidently, he had kept talking while LB had completely zoned out.

They're coming BACK with us? No!

"That would be lovely, Mike. I can't say as how I know whether or not I'm dreaming, but it's most gracious of you." Annie broke out of her star-struck silence long enough to gush a happy response.

We're doomed! LB groaned inwardly.

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"The Monkees are back in town, you say?" Stanley Weitmagen chuckled. "This is most fortunate. You were right when you said that you had good news for me." He reached his pudgy arm through the bars and clasped his informant's hand warmly. "Wonderful work, Lewis. Take the afternoon off. You deserve it."

Lewis, roughly 5'9" and well-built gave a brusque nod and walked out. Visitation hours were over anyway.

"I may just have to schedule a holiday jailbreak in their honor." Weitmagen murmured as he turned back to his cot. It squeaked in protest as he settled his sizable rear end on the mattress.

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