Hey there,
I hope you like this fic,
I wasn't brave enough to post it on here,
'cause I don't think I'm a particular good writer...
But anyway, a friend on here told me to post it,
tell me what you think =)

Note: Awww, I'm soo dumb!!
The title should be a wordplay, but I named it wrong.
I wanted to name it "Sympathy For The Texan",
how can I edit it....?

(It isn't finished yet, but possibly I will)

Silently the snow was falling on the tops of the little houses in Washington D.C.. It was a foggy, cold winter’s day and in the dawn the sun tried to get out of the clouds, which were covering the whole sky. Curled into his blankets Mike Nesmith snore softly, while his friends were getting up. The door opened and one of them entered his room. „Mike, it’s time to get up now!”, Davy said and shook gently his shoulder to wake him up. “Noo…I don’t want to.”, the Texan mumbled and turned on his other side, just to continue sleeping. “Hu?”, his pal asked confused and answered in his english accent, “But Mike, he have to do an interview this midday, it’s better to get up and eat breakfast before they’re coming, isn’t it?” Mike didn’t react. The Englishman shrugged his shoulders and left the room to prepare breakfast, he always was the first one who got up. The fuzzy-headed drummer awoke by the sound of rattling dishes and rubbed sleepily over his eyes. After he had a stretch and yawned hearty, he got dressed and went into Mike’s room, where the dark-haired was still sleeping. “Hey Mike, we’re late, I overslept myself, Davy’s angry with us, and …hey, are you listening to me?”, he said and raised his incessantly happy voice. “Oww…Yeah I do.”, Mike awoke finally and opened his heavy eyes. “Slept well?”, Micky asked him grinning, but his face fell, when he saw, that the face of the Texan was pale and shimmering sweaty. “Not really”, he answered and forced himself to a weak smile. “You look very pale, are you alright?”, Micky asked concerned and sat down on the edge of the bed. Sniffling Mike shrugged his shoulders and said, “I think so, not the best, but not that bad. Well, today’s an interview, isn’t it? We’d better go downstairs.” His pal agreed and Mike got up to get dressed. His steps were a bit wobbly, because he felt somewhat dizzy. His head ached, he had a sour throat and he felt terribly weak. “That’s perfect to start a day…”, he thought sarcastically. The two of them went downstairs and met Peter and Davy sitting on the table and waiting for them. “Morning lads!”, Micky called, Mike mumbled a “Morning” and both sat down at the table. Davy mentioned, “I got a call from the interviewer, she’ll be here at 12 am. She writes an article for the magazine called Bravo.” The other Monkees nodded agreeing. With his spoon Mike stirred a bit in his bowl of cornflakes, but didn’t eat them. His sensitive friend Peter took a worried gaze at him and asked shyly, “Are you alright Mike? You look a bit battered.” Frightened the one, to whom was spoken, looked up and stuttered, “Oh, ahm, I guess I’m just a little tired.”, and rubbed his forehead, that what pounding slightly. “If you think so…”, the blonde answered and ate a spoonful of his cornflakes. It was nearly quarter to 12 when they finished their breakfast. Cooperative Peter stood up and cleared the table away while Davy and Micky were talking excitedly. “I don’t know what to answer, if they ask me some dumb questions.”, Davy whined and Micky answered, “So am I, but I think it’ll be that bad, because it’s only a magazine for teens.” “Do you think, that the reporter’s a pretty thing?”, Micky wanted to know with a significant grin. “I hope so”, Davy twinkled and gazed at Mike, who joined in the conversation for the first time with a playfully, “Lads, I’m married. That’s unfair, if she’s a nice chick and my wife’s not here” “You’re right!”, Peter yelled out of the kitchen and made his friends laugh hearty. They continued talking Mike watched them gesticulating wildly. Still sleepy he noticed a slightly sensation of a tickling in his nose, rubbed over it and sniffed gently, but it only made it tickle worse. “…I like the blonde ones, I think Manchester girls are the prettiest…”, the Englishman raved, and Mike grinned absently, still trying to get his body under control, but when Micky continued the conversation the Texan just couldn’t hold in it anymore, cupped his hands over his face and bent forward with a loudly “HuESHOuu”. Davy shrugged by the force of the sneeze, Micky laughed and Peter yelled a “Bless You Mike”, out of the kitchen in his direction. “Thanks…”, he answered, muffled a cough in his sleeve and sniffed forcefully to clear his stuffy nose a bit. His headache grew and he felt more and more uncomfortable. He’d love nothing better than crawling back under his warm quilt and make a nice long nap, but he couldn’t abandon his friends at the interview. Every time he swallowed his throat burned and made him cringe inside. The blonde one finished tidying up the kitchen and was just before to sit down by the others, when suddenly the doorbell rang. “It’s okay, I’ll open”, he announced, smiled when he opened the door and let the interviewer in. She was a pretty red haired girl with big green eyes and a perfect smile. “Hey”, she said, “I hope you’re ready for the interview! My name’s Tracey, hope we get on well.”. The Monkees mumbled agreeing and gave her an adoringly smile. Davy pointed on the chair opposite him and asked like a gentlemen, “May I bring you something to drink?”. “No, thanks, but kind of you.”, the reporter said and blinked with her long, black lashes. Fascinated he couldn’t avert his look of her and smiled sheepishly. The first question she asked was, if they miss their families. Davy was the first one who answered, “Of course. I travelled from England, you know, I rarely see my family, because they’re far away. Sometimes I miss them very much; I wish they’d be here.” “Oww, sometimes they ARE here, indeed.”, Micky grumbled, “And his little sister had a crush on me, it’s so embarrassing, she’s 8 years old!!” Te reporter laughed and twisted one of her long, red curls and asked Mike, what he thought of it. With a somewhat scratchy voice he remembered, “Oh, she really had. I remember one day where she brought Micky tons of cake she baked.”, he gently cleared his throat and continued, ” It was a cute idea, but the cake was burned and tasted just awful. We all felt so guilty, that we swallowed it, even though it was disgusting.” The Monkees remembered clearly and bursted out in laughing. “Oww, yeah, I thought I’d poke”, Micky added and wiped of his eyes, that were streaming because of his heavy laughing. So did Mike, but his eyes got watery from muffling a laugh-induced cough into the crook of his elbow. Now he was pretty sure, that he was coming down with something. Sniffling he watched the interviewer asking Peter a few questions about his relationship to India and his throat still scratched like hell. Listening how Davy told something about England, he took another sip of his tea and it calmed his sore throat down a bit. Now the interviewer turned to him and wanted to know, “Is it true that you’re lucky married?”. Dreamily smiling he nodded and answered, “Yeah, that’s true. Her name’s Joanne, and she’s the love of my life. We married a year ago.” “Oww, that’s cute!”, Tracey said and gave him a sweet smile. While she asked Micky a few questions he was trying to fight a tickle off, that suddenly started bothering him. Hastily he rubbed over his nose and sniffed as quiet as possible so that he wasn’t disturbing the conversation.
“…I like strawberry jam the most…”, he caught Micky saying, just before he knew, that he couldn’t win the fight, turned quickly his head away and his breath got shaky. The Monkees glanced at him, when they heard him gasping, “He..Huh..” and trying to stifle a wetly “HuESHh” into his cupped hands. It sounded kinda muffled, but it didn’t helped him to get rid of the tickle, so his breath hitched again before Tracey finished saying “Bless Y…” and he let loose another “HeeISHH” Embarrassed he mumbled an “Excuse me” “Finished?”, Davy asked jokingly and Micky added a “Bless You”, when Mike nodded sniffling wetly. Tracey wished him a “Bless You” in unison with Peter, who handed a clean tissue to the Texan, who took it thankfully. “Are you feeling alright?”, she asked and looked into his brown eyes, which weren’t shining as bright as usual. “Not the best today.”, he admitted, turned away so that no one noticed him blushing slightly and gave his nose a gently blow. Still sniffing miserable he turned back and asked with stuffy voice, “Well, when do you take the pictures for the article?”. The red haired chick shook her head, thought for a while and answered, “We planned to do this on Wednesday, if that’s okay. It’s in 2 days, is that alright for you?” The Monkees nodded agreeing and Tracey said, she was glad to interview them, but had to leave now. They wished each other a nice day and she waved her hand when she disappeared in her car. “So fellas, do you have plans for today?”, the English man wanted to know and grinned cheerfully in the their faces. “What about playing cards?”, Micky suggested and Peter agreed, “Sure”. They sat down on the huge, cuddly carpet and Peter distributed the cards. With one hand Mike scratched absently his nose, which still was tickling slightly, with the other one he held the cards. “It’s your turn Davy”, he mumbled when he swapped one. Davy thought for a while and said, “No, the card’s are only crap. It’s your turn Micky.” The face of the fuzzy-headed drummer lit when he swapped one card, he laid down all three on the table and announced devilish, “Thirty three! Everyone of you has to pay.” “Agh…”, Davy grumbled and threw one dollar into the middle. So did Peter and Mike. “Next round I’ll win.”, Peter grinned and swapped one card. When Mike didn’t react, he reminded him, “Mike, it’s your turn.” Frightened the Texan gasped, “Yeah? Oww..wa…wait a sec..Huh…”, he raised his left arm and sneezed a wetly double into the crook of his elbow. “Gee, that sucks. I think I’m coming down wi..with…”, he moaned, and sneezed one more time again. “With a cold.”, Davy finished the sentence, added a “Bless You” and Peter gave him a concerned gaze. Worried he asked, “You don’t look that well, I think it’s better if you try to get some rest, isn’t it?” The Texan groaned and answered, “If I’m honest, I feel like utterly crap indeed.” With a little help of Peter, he got up and laid down on the couch. The cooperative blonde covered him with a warm blanket and offered to bring him some tea. Sleepy the black haired nodded and the exhaustion made his cheeks flush a bit.

(TBC...?)

Okay...Please tell me what you think =)



Mod note: Title edited at author's request. --Prodigy

So cute!!! I love it! thanks so much for writing it!Peter sounds awsome! and Mike's sneezes also sound awsome! haha I hope you continue if you can....

the storyline is great! i love the sick band-member stories, they are a presonal favorite in fact! you do need to recheck your grammar though, but its no big deal i mean no one is perfect! please continue!

Cute!!!

I luvves it! Please continue!

Oh!
Thank you guys soooo much!!
I'm amazed that actually three people read and commented the story *grin*
Yeah...I'm sorry that the grammer is wrong...But I'm not learning english for soooo long,
well, you could correct me ;-)
That'd be great.

At the moment I'm pretty busy with school, but I'll continue if you want me to =)

yay, you posted it.
im sorry, if i couldnt correct all the grammer..
but still. love it. and i think you can ask one of the administrators to edit the title or somethin'

yeah...I hope someone's able to correct the title.
It should be just a wordplay, 'cause there's a nice song called
"Sympathy For The Devil" from the Rolling Stones,
so I thought "Sympathy For The Texan" would be funny^^

Awww, very cute. Thanks for sharing this with us! And you are a good writer, and your grammar is fine. Be nice to yourself, you did a great job!

Aww, thank you
Usually I don't make that much mistakes,
but it's a little hard to express your thoughts in a language, that's not your mother tongue...
So I'm sorry if the grammar was a bit twisted or whatever,
but if you're able to understand, then it should be alright^^
Do you have suggestions how I could continue the story?
Maybe a lovestory between the reporter and one of the Monkees?
But not Mike, you know, he's married *grin*

I enjoyed that.

Great storyline and lovely characters! In particular I find Peter really adorable.
I'm glad you posted it, it's a very cute story. I'm waiting for the next chapter.



Same problem.
I'd like so much to trying to write some sneeze fic (in my own language I often write fics), but my English is not good enough. Maybe we could ask for some beta reader's help.

Yeah, that would be nice :-)
Uh...I wrote a fanfic about 60 pages (!!!!)
very crazy, but oh my goooood, just sooo cute them sneezing
But the matter is, it's in f***ing german ...
By the way. what's your mothertongue?

It's Italian. ^^
But no one of my italian friends might be interested in a sneeze fic (as far as I know, at least ), and plus, no one of them knows about my fetish. So I've never wrote a sneeze fic so far.

Uhh =P
I love Italy, there food there is just yummy !
Well, okay, ahm...It's the same with me,
but a really bad thing happened to me:
Accidentally I send a SNEEZEFIC to one of my mates,
who is surely NOT a fellow fetishist,
aww my gooooood....
It was just so horrible when he asked me,
where the storyline was, because all he's doing was sneezing.
Ahhh my god, I nearly died that day.
I hope he doesn't know about it now...

Really awkward, indeed.
But you know, for people who don't know even about the existence of this fetish in general, it's hard to come to it by themself. I think he might easily think that you just wanted to write a "funny" story or something.

I hope so ;-)
Well, we're just babbling in his topic,
I'll better write a new part^^

Sure, I'll be waiting for it impatiently.

This is a great story so far. I love the Monkees! At first I wasn't sure how I felt about Mike being the sick one, but this melted my soul.

(Did I mention Mike is my favorite Monkee? How uncanny. First the story starring a sickly George, and now one with Mike. You have read my mind.)

Woooow...I'm amazed *g*
In fact Mike and George were my favourites as well!!
I think I start reaaally to like you^^
Great taste ;-)
I'm pretty busy at school...
That's darn, I'll write 2 tests the following week...
BUt possibly I can continue soon.

I didn't know this was here until I read the Monkees' thread. What a terrific story, LovelyLinda! You are a great writer, and I love how you made Mike sneeze, vey fitting for him, I think. I do hope that if you become inspired you write more!!