The next morning, poor Peter was nominated to wake Micky up. He was mad; they always made him do it. Besides, Micky had come in late last night, and it wouldn't be very easy to wake him up. He grumbled to himself as he walked into the room that Mike and Micky shared, and walked over to Micky's bed where he was laying sound asleep.

"Micky, get up." Peter said very quietly "Oh well guys, he wouldn't get up." He said to Davy and Mike, who were standing in the doorway. "Guess one of you will have to do it." They gave him a look that showed they were not amused. "Fine, fine." He said exasperatedly he walked back over to Micky's bed, and leaned down so that his lips were right near Micky's ear. Then he began to sing the refrain to 'Can You Dig It?' very loudly. Micky jumped up looking quite scared. His brown eyes looked confused, and his curly hair was sticking up all over the place. After he got over the initial shock, his expression turned mischievous. He picked up the pillow he had been using and chucked it at Peter's head. Peter wasn't expecting the attack, and the pillow hit him right in the face. He grinned; surprised that Micky was in such a good mood so early in the morning. Mike and Davy looked equally surprised; they all looked at each other with the same surprised expression.

"Micky, what has gotten in to you?" Mike asked as Micky started humming 'Star Collector' with a big grin on his face. Micky didn't answer; he just smiled and walked into the bathroom. A few seconds later, they heard the water running.

"Man, what time did he get in last night?" Davy asked laughingly.

"It was after eleven, and he was singin' then too." Mike said, also chuckling as he spoke. Peter looked confused; he had no idea what they were laughing about. But he didn't want to look dumb, so he laughed too. After a while, his curiosity got the better of him.

"Hey guys? What's so funny?" Mike and Davy were really cracking up now. "Guys?"

"Petah, can't you see man? Micky's in love!" Davy said, right before he broke into a fit of hysterical laughter. Peter looked confused, he had thought they were laughing at Micky singing quite loudly from the shower.

"He is? How do you know?" Peter asked quizzically. They both looked at him like he had six heads then burst out into laughter again.

"Man, can't you tell by the way he's actin'?" Mike said to Peter. "He was actin' all weird last night, then he left to go to the hospital, and he didn't come in 'till late last night. Then he was actually in a good mood in the morning, and he's singing in the shower instead of grumbling about getting up." He got up from where he had been sitting, and walked to the door. Davy followed him.

"Come on Petah, time for us to make breakfast" Davy said, hoping Peter would decide he didn't want to cook this morning.

"Do you think you can do it without me? I want to talk to Micky." Peter said to Davy, who cheered silently.

"Well, ok. If tha's wha' you want." Davy replied, and him and Mike left them room. Peter sat on the bed and waited for Micky to get out of the shower. He didn't have to wait very long; Micky popped out of the bathroom a few seconds later wearing a towel around his waist and holding one in his hand.

"Hey Pete, ya need something?" Micky asked as he dried his hair with the towel in his hand. He walked over to the closet and rummaged through until he found a clean shirt.

"Uh, no. I just wanted to know, ya know, how come you're in such a good mood today?" Micky looked at him from across the room. He smiled a wide grin.

"I don't know. I just am." He said as he adjusted his belt. "Listen Pete, I gotta go, I'm runnin a little late. See ya later." Micky left the room and slid down the banister.

"Hey Micky, aren't ya gonna have breakfast?" Davy asked from the stove.

"Not today Davy, I gotta get to work." Davy looked at the clock. Micky didn't have to be in for another hour. Davy pointed this out to him, and he answered.

"I know, I promised Angel I would see her before she went in for testing." Mike, Davy, and Peter all looked at each other.

"Angel????" They all said at once. But Micky was already gone, so the question remained unanswered.

Micky walked into the hospital at six o' clock that morning, about a half-hour earlier than he was due. All the nurses give him strange looks, but he didn't care. All he cared about was seeing Angel. He made his way his way to her door, and walked into the room. Angel was strumming her guitar warily, and humming softly to herself. She smiled at Micky, and handed him the guitar.

"You play something," She said sweetly "I want to hear how it's supposed to be done." Micky was surprised by her playful mood, especially at a time when most people would be nervous. He smiled at her, and adjusted the guitar.

"I'm not much of a guitar player, I mostly play the drums." He said bashfully. He couldn't explain why he was nervous about this, he had played gigs before; but this was different. He began to play slowly and steadily. He didn't realize what song he was playing until he began to sing "Blackbird singing in the dead of night;" It was all too appropriate, and they both knew it. She watched him with a somber expression as he sang and strummed the guitar softly. When he was done, she smiled at him.

"I've always loved that song." She said softly. He looked into her eyes so deeply, he could almost see into her soul. But right as he was about to, she broke the stare. He had known that she would. He was about to say something, when a doctor walked into the room.

"Miss Carlisle?" he said, looking surprised that she wasn't alone. Angel looked up quickly.

"Yeah, that's me." She turned to Micky, and he gently touched her arm. They didn't say a word, but communicated through their eyes.

"I'll be here later, if you want to me to be." He said, hoping she would say yes.

"No, don't. I need to get some sleep." She didn't want him to get too close to her, because whenever a man got close to her; she got hurt. And she didn't want that to happen again. Twice was enough, she had learned her lesson.

"Ok." He said, sounding disappointed. Maybe it was better this way, she thought to herself. Neither of them could get hurt if she maintained the distance. 'Maybe' she thought to herself. But if that was true, then why did she feel so bad?

Micky was upset all day long. He couldn't understand why Angel was trying to keep him away. He didn't know what he would do if anything ever happened to her. Although he had only known Angel for a short time, Micky felt closer to her than anyone else in the world. She never judged him, she was a great listener, and she was a wonderful person. But Angel had kept a distance between them; a line that couldn't be crossed, not yet anyway. He spent most of his lunch break picking flowers for her in the woods behind the hospital. He brought them up to her room, but she wasn't there. He arranged them in a vase near her bed, and left a short note that said 'I hope you're feeling better soon. ~ Micky'. Then he went back to work. As usual, he brought all the dinner trays out. And as usual, Angel's was last. Slowly, he made his way to her room. He opened the door, and saw Angel lying in the bed. She looked very drained, and he wondered what kinds of tests they had run on her. He walked over to her, and smiled nervously. He wasn't sure what he should say, how he should act. She had told him not to visit, after all. But this was part of his job, so of course he had to bring her dinner.

"Hi Micky." She said sweetly, and he breathed a huge sigh of relief. She wasn't mad at him for being there.

"Hi Angel. How'd the tests go?" He asked as he put the tray down.

"Lots of machines and lots of needles; lots of fun." She said sarcastically, and he laughed out loud. This was the first time she'd made joke with him, and he realized that her sense of humor was a lot like Mike's. She smiled back at him.

"How come you're in such a good mood?" Micky asked; she looked happier than he had ever seen her.

"Well I talked to a realtor today, and I'm going to be renting a small beach house. I've always loved the beach, and I've never lived alone before, I'm kind of excited about it. The rent's pretty cheap, which is good since I haven't worked in about two weeks. I talked to my boss at the restaurant too, and he said I could come back as soon as I was out of here. And the doctors all said that my tests looked good, and that they would have all the results by eleven o' clock tonight. Then I can leave." She was brimming with happiness, and Micky was too.

"You're leaving tonight?" Micky said, disappointed. He was glad she was okay, but he would miss seeing her every day. "A beach house? Where?" Micky realized that she might be living near him, and hoped she was.

"It's on Beachwood drive; number 1343." Micky was elated; he lived in 1334, she was only a little further down the beach. This was the best news he'd gotten all day.

"That's only a few houses away from us!" Micky said, unable to hide his excitement. She smiled at him again.

"Really? That's great." She said quietly. This was really confusing Micky. One minute she was so sweet to him, and the next she would put that wall back up. He couldn't understand it, and it was really starting to get to him. "I can't move in for a few days though; all the paper work and stuff needs to get done. So I'll be staying at the house where Billy and I used to live. I still have the key, so I'll be able to get in all right. I'm going tonight, as long as the doctors say I'm okay." Micky's stomach did a flip-flop.

"What?!?!?"

"Well Bill's not there, he's in jail; and I need a place to stay until I can move in." She got a sad look on her face, and Micky knew there was no way he could let her go through the pain of returning to that house. "I really hope I can leave tonight," she said; with a faraway look in her eyes "I hate this place."

"Angel, this isn't right." Micky said, "I can't let you go back there, back to that awful house. I know you don't want to go either." She looked at him, and he could see that he was right.

"I know Micky, but I have no place else to go." "Micky, I couldn't -"

"Yes you can. I don't want you staying at that house, and you don't want to stay there either. Please Angel, it's only for a couple of days..."

"Are you sure your roommates won't mind?" She asked in a defeated tone. Micky didn't care if she didn't want to stay with him; he just didn't want her staying at that house.

"Of course they won't mind, they're good guys." He waited for her response.

"Well if you're sure, and it isn't any trouble..." Micky knew he had won, and he grinned at her.

"No trouble at all." He saw hints of a smile touch her face, but she quickly hid it away. "Listen, I'll leave ya alone now-" She grabbed his hand, and he was shocked. She had never initiated physical contact between them.

"No, I don't want to be alone right now. I'd like you to stay, if you're not busy." The Monkees had a rehearsal planned for that night, but this was important. Besides, they wouldn't be too mad if he called first. Her eyes pleaded with him, and he knew there was no way he could say no.

"Sure, I'll stay. I just need to make a quick phone call." He smiled at her, and picked up the phone. Mike picked up after three rings.

"Hello?" Mike said, sounding annoyed. They were probably eating dinner.

"Hi Mike, its Micky. Listen, I'm not gonna be in till late."

"What about rehearsal? What is going on with you Mick?" Mike asked, and Micky gulped. Maybe they would be mad.

"Sorry, but I can't make it. I got something to do. I'll explain in the morning." He knew he should tell Mike that Angel would be staying with them, but he couldn't make Mike any madder than he already was.

"It better be important." Mike said, sounding angry.

"It is, it's very important. I'll see you in the morning."

"Ok, see ya Mick." Mike said; sounding less irritated. Micky let out a sigh of relief and hung up the phone. Then he turned his attention to Angel.

They talked the whole night about everything. Angel told him of her aspirations to be a photographer, and he told her about his dreams of a legacy that he could call his own, something he had never told anyone before. The doctor came in around eleven thirty, and said that all her tests had come back fine. Angel was really happy, she jumped out of bed and hugged Micky. The doctor gave them a puzzled look, and left the room. He held her in his arms for a few seconds; he was in heaven. He released her, and she gave him a sheepish look.

"I'm sorry," she said "I'm just so happy to get out of here! I'm never coming back, no matter what." She said passionately. Micky handed her crutches to her, and she used them to walk to the bathroom. She came out a few minutes later wearing a pair of navy blue slacks and a matching shirt. She looked beautiful, and he smiled at her. Together they walked out the door. From there, they walked out into the cool night air. He helped her into the Monkee Mobile slowly. It was lucky for him that it was his turn to get the car today; otherwise, they would have been walking. They drove in silence, and as Angel yawned, Micky realized how tired he was. When they go to the pad, Micky was careful to open the door quietly, seeing as how it was around midnight.

"You can have my bed if you want it." Micky whispered.

"No, that's ok. I'll take the couch." She whispered back. It was then that Micky realized she didn't have her clothes with her. They were at the police station, along with the rest of her things.

"You don't have to sleep in your clothes and ruin them," Micky said. She gave him a puzzled look. "you can wear a pair of my pajamas."

She laughed softly for a minute. "I'm serious!" he whispered.

"I know, that's why it's so funny." She whispered back. She finally agreed to wear them, and Micky brought her his polka-dotted nightgown. She went to the bathroom to change while Micky set up the couch for her. When she came out, Micky couldn't help but laugh. The nightgown was huge on her tiny body, and it dragged on the floor. "Shutup!" She said jokingly, and then she began to laugh too. He helped her get settled on the couch, and finally she was.

"I'm upstairs if you need anything." He said softly.

"Ok." She responded, her tone of voice changing. They looked into each other's eyes in silence. Then she pulled Micky down to her and kissed his cheek softly. "Goodnight Mick." She whispered in his ear.

"Goodnight Angel." He said back. He went upstairs with his hand on his cheek, and got into bed. Then he drifted off into a peaceful sleep.