This is my first het oneshot in a l o n g time so I apologize if it sucks, lol.

I used a random generator for the girl's name because I don't write "y/n" fics anymore, nor do I write myself as the MC, so if the name happens to be yours...well, congrats?

This was originally supposed to be about Michael, but I kept picturing Peter so...yup, that's a thing. 😂

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Jonie was wiping off the table when the bell above the diner door jangled, announcing a new arrival. She looked up, wiping a strand of hair from her face, as a tall, lanky blond man sprinted inside.

"Peter! What're you doin' back here, babe?" Missy Rogers, the owner of the diner, was a friendly, plump woman in her early forties. She stood behind the counter, beaming at Peter as he skidded to a stop, hands on his knees.

"Micky," huff, "forgot," huff, "his drumsticks," Peter panted. He straightened up a little. "From the gig earlier."

"Well, why doesn't Micky come pick them up himself?" Missy asked, hand on her hip.

"'Cause we drew straws," Peter said, "and I lost."

Missy laughed and shook her head. "Well, alrighty then. Jonie, could you please show Peter the drumsticks? I put them on the counter in the kitchen."

"Yes ma'am." Jonie smiled at Peter, who stared at her in sudden silence, and made her way to the kitchen. Peter followed, stopping at the doorway as Jonie went inside and came out just a moment later, two drumsticks in hand.

"Here ya go," Jonie said, handing them off. "Tell your friend Micky to swing by himself next time he loses his sticks."

"Thanks!" Peter beamed. "Say, uh...Jonie?"

"Yes?"

"Well, uh, I was wondering...when do you get off?"

"Work?"

Peter nodded.

"Well, we're closing up right now as a matter of fact."

"Oh." Peter looked embarrassed. "Well, I was wondering if you'd like to come back to the pad with me? It won't be just us of course, the fellas will be there too and you can give Micky his—"

"Peter?"

"Yeah?"

"I would love to," Jonie smiled.

"Oh, great!"

Peter grinned and just stood there, staring off into space. A minute or so later, Jonie giggled, snapping Peter out of his gaze.

"What's funny?"

"Do you plan on leaving anytime soon?" Jonie teased.

"Oh, right! Uh...right this way."

Jonie laughed and took off her apron. The pair shouted goodbye to Missy, who waved them off as they left the diner and walked the short ten minutes to the pad.

"Man oh man, Davy's sure gonna be jealous. He's been crushing on you since we started playing gigs at that diner...and trust me, five hours is like five months in Davy-time!"

"Really?" Jonie blushed.

"Yeah! But I think you're pretty groovy too."

Jonie smiled and didn't say anything. She'd never heard The Monkees play live, but she definitely knew who they were—who didn't around here?—and admitted that Peter had always been her favorite. Most of her friends liked Davy the most, but there was just something about the bashful blond man that she absolutely adored.

Peter smiled to himself the rest of the way to the pad and the smile only grew when they finally arrived at the front door. He glanced at Jonie and opened the door.

Suddenly, a boy came sliding down the stair banister and, grinning, jumped off, landing perfectly on his feet. Jonie heard clapping and saw two more boys sitting on the couch. The one she recognized as Davy was clapping his hands while the other—Jonie was pretty sure his name was Mike? Michael?—simply rolled his eyes. The curly-haired boy who'd slid down the banister grinned and bowed for his audience.

"Thank you, thank you!"

When the applause died down, Micky turned, grinning, to Peter. "Hey, man! Did you get my—"

Micky paused when he saw Jonie and she smiled, but stayed close by Peter's side. Micky's eyes lit up with recognition.

"Hey, I know you! You're that chic that works down at Missy's, aren't you?"

"Yes...I'm Jonie. Jonie Praxton."

"Man, has Davy got the biggest cru—"

Micky was silenced with a flying pillow to the face.

"I do not!" Davy huffed. "I like Susie now, fellas."

"Well, there's that," Peter muttered, chuckling. Then Peter suddenly realized that he'd subconsciously wrapped his arm around Jonie's shoulders and, blushing, he pulled away. Jonie, who hadn't even realized Peter was touching her, blushed too. If Davy or Micky had seen Peter with his arm around her, they didn't say anything.

The only one who hadn't said anything up until now was Michael. He smiled and lifted his hand in a silent greeting.

"Come on," Peter said, tugging lightly on Jonie's hand. "Lets go out back."

Jonie followed close behind Peter as they went outside. Micky whistled at them, but he was ignored as Peter shut the door.

Compared to the pad, the beach was totally silent except for the steady crashing of the waves. The sun was just starting to set and Peter sat in the sand, patting the spot next to him. Not wanting to get her uniform too dirty, Jonie chose instead to kneel.

"I'm sorry about them," Peter said quickly. "Davy's usually the one who brings girls home so when someone else does it, everyone tends to get a bit excited. Not that I would ever—you know—unless you—"

"Peter, relax!" Jonie giggled. "It's okay. I know what you mean."

Peter smiled, a dimple evident in his cheek. He sighed happily and looked out on the sunset.

The two sat in silence for awhile and when the sky started getting a little darker, Peter took hold of Jonie's hand. He saw she was blushing and smiled sheepishly, biting his lower lip.

"Would you mind if I—"

"No," she whispered.

Peter smiled and started to lean in, wrapping an arm around Jonie's waist. Jonie closed her eyes and leaned in.

"Hey, guys!" Micky shouted, throwing open the back door. "Where are my drumsticks?!"

Peter groaned and Jonie laughed.

"Guess we better give those to him, huh?"

Jonie started to get up, but was stopped when Peter tugged on her wrist. He pulled her back down again and kissed her, cupping her face gently with the hand that wasn't wrapped around her wrist.

"Wow," Jonie breathed softly when they pulled away.

Peter beamed and stood up, dusting the sand off his pants.

"Lets go give Micky his drumsticks."