They sat in silence for a few moments, each trying to ward off the chill of their now-wet clothing, before the short one spoke up. "So, miss?"
Jane looked up from her lap, "Hm? Oh, I'm Jane," She said, "Jane-" she trailed off for a moment, not sure if she wanted to completely trust these strangers with her identity, "Polk."
They seemed to buy it, because the sandy haired one smiled at her and stuck out his hand from the front seat, "Peter Tork, it's a pleasure to meet you Miss Polk. This is my friend Davy Jones."
Jane shook Peter's hand, and cocked her head at the back of Davy's head. "Like Davy Jones' Locker?" She giggled.
Davy tried to look cross in the rearview window, "No!' he cried, before smirking, " I use a cupboard."
Peter started to giggle under his breath, and Jane, finding herself rather quickly feeling comfortable among these two, let out a snort. This sent them all into a round of laughter, the dismal night forgotten as they drove down the highway in their mirth.
"So Jane," Davy said, sobering up a bit, "What's a girl like you doing out on a night like this?"
"Looking for strange boys with cars to hijack." She replied quickly, wanting to stay away from that topic. Peter took her seriously, looking for a moment at Davy, then her with panic in his eyes. "Peter I think she's joking." Davy said with a pat on Peter's shoulder. Peter eyed Jane sceptically before talking. "Stranger things have happened than a female car-jacker David, this is California."
"I was joking Peter, I can vouch for the fact that I have never in my life stolen a car." Jane said, well, except for that one time a few years ago, she thought. She decided not to mention it though, and as they arrived in Malibu she became distracted by the scenery. Never knowing how long she could stay somewhere had more than re-enforced her appreciation for feeling familiar with each place she went. She was just imagining herself walking down the street, meeting people, singing, when her thoughts were yet again interrupted by Davy, who parked the car in the driveway of a funny looking two story beach house. Even in the dark Jane could feel the charm of this ramshackle little place. The feeling reminded her of the time she went to see the circus with her mom as a child.
"-come in for a while?" Davy was facing her now, with a look of question on his face mirrored by Peter as they looked at her expectantly.
"I'm sorry, what did you say?" Jane asked, embarrassed at being so rude to them.
"He said, would you like to come in for a while?" Peter repeated for her.
"You know, seeing as how you were out in the rain so long, we thought maybe you would want to dry off for a while." Davy said.
"Oh," was all Jane could say, "Well, it is awfully late, I really should be going you know." After all, taking a ride from strangers was one thing, going into a strange house seemed to be asking for trouble. Once again, as if the sky were against her, there came a loud crack, followed by a crash, then silence.
"What was that?" Jane yelped, looking all around for the source of the noise.
"It appears that rotten old tree of Mr. Babbitt's finally fell." Peter said, climbing out of the car. "I don't think you can go anywhere tonight Miss Jane, the tree is blocking the whole driveway."
"I can walk." She countered.
"Not in this weather sweetheart!" Davy said, opening her door to help her out. "No one in their right mind would be open tonight, hotel or otherwise. Just come in for a while, I can drive you home as soon as we can get out and clear that tree."
Jane thought about it, and shivered as she realized just how cold she was, before giving in for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. "Okay, but just for a little while."
They no sooner got in the door and had her sit on the backless couch of their living room before she fell asleep. Davy and Peter chuckled to themselves before looking at each other, who was this girl? As if in answer, she started snoring lightly, pausing once to sneeze. Davy tiptoed to the closet and grabbed a pillow while Peter took her dripping boots off, and covered her with a blanket.
They snuck off to their room whispering in hushed tones.
"Think Mike and Micky will mind us letting a girl spend the night?" Peter asked as he squirmed into his bunny pajamas.
"You kidding? Of course not! Mike might kill me for getting the inside of the Monkeemobile wet though." Davy mused, changing into his pajamas as well.
"I won't tell him if you won't." Peter said.
And with that, they went to bed, and the little beach house was silent.
Except for the faint sound of snoring coming from the backless couch in the living room.