The sun beat down on Micky's taut, lean back. A breeze from the ocean ruffled his mass of unruly curls. Lying on a beach towel, the drummer sighed as he listened to the waves crashing behind him.

Strange things were happening to the singer and he didn't know what to make of them.

Rolling onto his back, Micky ran his long fingers through his curly hair and closed his eyes, trying to not think for once because it just made his head hurt. The guys were starting to suspect something was seriously wrong with their drummer.

The strange happenings started a couple of months ago. Gigs were coming and going as fast as the four band mates could keep up with them. Micky felt on top of the world and it seemed nothing could bring him down.

Girls were actually throwing themselves at Micky for a change, instead of devoting all their attention to the little Brit. And it seemed the short band member was actually getting jealous of Micky for the first time. In fact, maybe just a little too jealous.

What Davy thought was supposed to be a joke wasn't funny to Micky, not one bit. The guys were at one of the many parties they had been invited to when the weird things started happening. Girls were hanging all over Micky as usual that night. Davy had his share, but he wanted what Micky had also.

"Hey Mick, I thought you’d like a drink." Davy said handing his friend the mixed drink he’d just prepared.

"Thanks Davy, you're a real pal." Taking the drink from Davy, he took a long sip.

Davy watched with mischief in his eyes as the taller man drank. He had tainted the drink with a drug he’d acquired from a friend of a friend. 'Any minute now. Wow, he's drinking that down fast,' the Brit thought to himself with growing anticipation.

Micky felt the heat from the drink slide down his throat. 'A bit on the warm side, but it's still good.' he though.

Setting the empty glass down on a nearby table, he felt a hot flash. His head started spinning a little. Shaking it a bit he stated, "Man, it's getting hot in here." Without realizing what he was doing, he unbuttoned his shirt and laid it on a chair. The girls giggled. Micky grinned, a little drunk.

"Excuse us, ladies, I think Mick here needs some air."

With that Davy grabbed Micky's wrist and led him out to the veranda.

“Thanks man, I dunno what's wrong with me." Micky shook his head again.

Sitting on a stone bench, the young man bent his head forward. "Whoa man!" Davy caught Micky just before he leaned too far forward and hit the concrete patio.

The curly haired man felt strange. Not only was his head spinning but his whole body felt off kilter. The cool air wasn't helping. Micky felt a twinge in his groin and a fire in his stomach. His spine started tingling. 'What the hell is wrong with me?' He felt Davy lead him somewhere; his eyes were not focusing properly.

"Davy, where you taking me?"

"Shh, it's okay babe." Davy opened a door and pushed Micky in. They were inside a pool house. "Sit." Davy instructed.

Sitting on the floor as directed, Micky started getting worried. His friend was acting weird.

Before Micky could think, he felt a pair of strong hands on his shoulders, pushing him to the floor. The concrete was cold to the drummer's bare back. "Wait, what are you do-?" He felt strong soft lips on his. 'What the hell! 'No way! This is not happening!' Micky's mind raced.

The lips traveled to Micky's lean neck, a tongue flicking and licking down to his collar bone. A heavy body pressed against him. An unseen hand stroked his curls.

'Who is this? Can't be Davy, he would never, would he?' Micky felt sick to his stomach and anger rose furiously. He couldn't make his arms work to get this sicko off him. Something snapped in the back of his mind. 'This person needs to stop now!' "No!" Micky shouted, and an object flew from no where and hit his assailant in the side, sending them flying.


Micky woke sometime later to the sound of someone groaning. Opening his eyes and letting them adjust to the dark, he turned to the source of the noise. What he saw angered and shocked him. Davy lay on the floor holding his side, groaning pitifully.

Raising slowly, glaring at Davy, Micky shouted, "What the fuck were you thinking?!"

"I was just playin' man; it was a joke."

"You sick little fucker, it wasn't funny! It was disgusting!"

A loud bang sounded from somewhere in the back of the building. Davy jumped.

"Asshole!" Micky stormed out, leaving the little Brit to think about what just happened - and in pain.

***

After avoiding Davy at all costs and giving him the cold shoulder for almost two weeks, Mike intervened. Micky didn't want to relive the embarrassment of that night. It took Mike’s persuasion to get his drummer to admit why he was treating Davy as if he had the plague.

The Texan was not happy when he heard. He made Davy apologize profusely, and gave Micky's chores to the midget greenie for the next month.

Davy couldn't stand the distance he had created between Micky and himself. He decided to make another go at apologizing. Walking tentatively toward the drummer, he cleared his throat. Micky looked up from the drawing he was working on.

"Can I talk to you, Mick?"

"Guess so. What do you want?"

Sitting on the couch next to his friend, Davy sighed and looked down at his feet. "I'm really sorry. I got jealous of you and I wanted to get back at you. It was a sick thing for me to do and I humiliated you. I wasn't thinking when I did that." Looking up at Micky, he saw the genuine hurt in his friend's eyes.

Micky didn't trust himself to be in such close proximity to Davy and he backed away a little. "You were jealous of me? You're twisted. How many girls do you need to boost your ego? God, Davy, I thought we were friends." He was close to tears.

"Micky, please tell me what I can do to fix this. You're my friend and you mean a lot to me."

Taking a deep breath, Micky turned his head and thought for a minute. Turning back and looking directly into Davy's eyes he said, "Call me a fool. But I forgive you."

"Promise me you will never touch me that way ever again, and if you feel the urge, go....jump in the ocean."

Davy smiled, "Sure thing, Mick. Friends?"

"Friends" Rising off the couch, Micky added, "Don't think that just because I forgave you that you're getting out of doing my chores the rest of the month." He grinned with good humor.

"Dickhead," Davy said playfully.

"I have one," Micky said thoughtfully. He grinned his childlike grin and walked out the door, leaving Davy laughing.

***

Everything went great the next couple weeks. Rehearsals were better than ever and everyone was getting along.

It turned sour when Mike announced he’d changed the line-up and demanded that rehearsals be longer and more grueling. Tempers flared and Davy, Mike and Peter were at each others’ throats at every turn. It put pressure on Micky to try to be the mediator, and he started losing concentration and eventually messed up a few takes.

Everyone then turned on him. 'Should have recognized the calm before the storm.' Micky thought solemnly to himself.

His temper flared one day after a heated argument over what they were going to watch on TV. "This is stupid! I've had enough of this shit!" He rose from the couch intending on getting away from the others for a while. The lights flickered and the TV blinked off. Then a glass that was sitting on the counter in the kitchen fell to the floor, shattering loudly. He stormed out the door, leaving the others bewildered.

Things continued in this fashion for the next month. Whenever Micky got upset, something bad happened.

The girl he had started dating showed her true colors one day when she suddenly announced she wanted Peter and had just been using Micky to get closer to the blond. It stormed outside for a week as Micky's mood stayed dark and brooding.

The storm cleared when his mood cleared. But things just kept getting weirder. Stuff would disappear and reappear in a different place. Objects would move without anyone touching them.

Davy and Peter were becoming wary of Micky. Mike blew it off as over active imagination on the part of the others.

Reality hit home though, when he pissed Micky off one day while Davy and Peter were gone.

One of the drummer's drum sticks whizzed by Mike's ear as Micky stood staring angrily at the Texan. The curly haired man was no where near the drum kit. He was on his way out the door.

***

As Micky lay thinking about what he tried not to think about, the most beautiful auburn haired girl with piercing green eyes appeared above him. 'Where did she come from? I was alone a minute ago,' Micky thought to himself.

"Hello, my name is Tabitha," she said, smiling warmly.

Sitting up, Micky looked into her eyes and smiled back. "Hi, mine's Micky. Where did you come from?"

"Around. Close by, actually. I came to help you."

"Help me?" He was bewildered.

"Yes, and from the looks of it, you need all you can get. You're confused and scared."

"I'm sorry, excuse me? Why do you say that?"

"I'll explain everything, but right now I need you to come with me. You aren't safe here."

"I'm not? Why?"

Holding her hand out in a gesture of friendship she said, "Please, come with me."

Grabbing his discarded shirt, he pulled himself off the ground and took her hand.

"Where are we going," he asked quietly.

"Not far from here," Tabitha replied, still smiling warmly.

They walked a while until they came upon a little cabin on the beach that Micky had never seen before. It was camouflaged by the rocks in the cliffs behind it. He'd been here at least a half dozen times and he never knew it existed. In fact, he'd made out with a couple of girls in this very area.

Micky was embarrassed to think someone living in that cabin had probably seen him during his escapades.

"Don't worry, it's okay," the girl said encouragingly.

"Huh?" Micky started.

"Don't be embarrassed, we've been waiting for the right moment for you."

"What?" Micky wrinkled his pudgy nose. He was confused.

"You'll understand in a few minutes," Tabitha stated. Just then, the door to the cabin opened, even though the girl hadn't touched the doorknob. "Come in," she said, guiding him through the door.

It was fairly bright inside. Micky noticed there were a few lit candles about the room, but no lamps. The light couldn't have been coming from the candles. It was too bright for those. "Sit, please."

Micky found himself sitting in a large wing backed chair. Tabitha disappeared through a door on the right.

Taking in the scenery, Micky saw a vast bookshelf housing books of all kinds. Some of the titles were in a language he'd never seen before. The covers of others were decorated with symbols. A colorful assortment of jars and vases lined several shelves. Crystals were scattered here and there. All sorts of pictures hung on the walls. Some were of people, others of places and animals. A couple of the people seemed to wink at him.

Just as he shook his head to make sure he wasn't tripping out, a large black cat jumped onto Micky's lap, causing him to jump slightly. The cat purred contentedly. Placing a tentative hand on the animal's back, the curly haired drummer began stroking the sleek fur.

"Basil! Cut that out!"

Micky jumped, dropping the cat to the floor. Turning, he saw a woman who appeared to be in her early thirties. She was beautiful. Her blue-black hair was long and silky and her eyes seemed to keep changing color.

Laughter sounded from behind Micky. Turning, he saw a young man with white-blond hair and blue eyes, dressed all in black and standing where only a moment ago the cat had fallen to the floor. Placing his hands on his hips, the young man said "Aww, Hermione, I was just having fun."

"You want to scare Micky away before we get a chance to tell him what he needs to know?" Hermione asked with her arms crossed. "Now shoo, I want to be alone with him."

Basil exited the room with a flourish.

Micky stood transfixed on the beauty before him and felt bewildered.

"Sit, please. Everything is alright." Hermione requested. She settled herself into a chair across from Micky.

Sitting back, Micky's eyes conveyed what he could not express.

"It's quite alright, Micky. You're overwhelmed and that's to be expected." she said smiling warmly at the boy in front of her. "I intend to answer all your questions."

It was true; he was full of questions - overflowing to be exact. He was still too awed to say anything, though.

"I think it's best to start off with introductions.”

Micky nodded.

"I'm Hermione Bell. The young lady who brought you here is Tabitha Adams and the young prankster who was in the form of a cat is Basil James. There are others, but we are all that are here today. You will meet more of us as the days go by."

"Okay, so why am I here? Tabitha said something about you waiting for the right moment for me and that I wasn't safe."

"Unfortunately you aren't safe, but you need not fear being here. You are quite safe as long as you are within these walls."

"Why am I not safe?"

"First, I think I need to explain the things you have been going through lately."

"Okay....wait, what do you mean? You mean all the weird things that seem to be happening to me lately?"

"Yes, but they aren't really weird if you know why they are happening."

"Go on..."

"The reason objects fly around or disappear and even that odd bout of weather we had is because you are a born wizard. So is Basil. Tabitha and I are witches."

"No … really? There's no such thing....is there?" He asked noticing she wasn't laughing nor showing any hint of trying to pull his leg. "I mean, ok say I am why now? "

"Your 23rd birthday was about six months ago, correct?"

"Yes, why? What has that got to do with anything? And how did you know anyway?"

"You will learn how later. Right now, I'm concerned with getting started in training you. But I will answer the why right now. Some of us have powers that don't become apparent till we are older. Others have powers that show at a very young age. I have come to realize the longer our powers take to show the more likely they are to be more powerful and harder to control by oneself - as you have been demonstrating the past few months." She paused, letting Micky think about what he was hearing.

"So that's why those weird things have been happening lately. You know I've been scaring the crap outta my friends. They barely talk to me anymore now." Micky admitted sadly.

"We'll help you keep from scaring your friends, but you don't need to tell them what you are or have learned for a while."

"They wouldn't believe me anyway. They think I'm neurotic enough as it is. Mike threatens to admit me to a psycho ward sometimes when I get on his nerves." The drummer half-heartedly laughed and looked down at his hands.

Hermione looked at the young man in front of her. She could feel the sadness and loneliness he felt at that moment. Taking his hands in hers, she said, "It's alright. Your friends care very much for you, especially Mike. He just doesn't know how to show it."

Micky looked up at the striking woman that held his hands. "How do you know that?"

"Right now, just call it intuition." She smiled warmly and kissed his fingers. She felt a little sad for him going through a rough time with no one to talk to. She also knew he would be going through a lot more hard times as he became trained in the magical arts. "Well, there's no time like the present to start your training. I have a feeling you have more talents that will become apparent as the next few days progress."

Throughout that evening and well into the night, Micky learned that not only could he make things disappear and reappear elsewhere, but he could manipulate their shape, color and size. He had a small amount of control over the weather too, but it usually happened when he was hurt or angry. He also learned a chant to calm himself when he got angry enough to lose control over his abilities. It was the control he had to learn, and naturally being one who never had much self control to begin with, he had to work hard.

Exhausted mentally and physically, he hugged Hermione and promised to return in the morning. She had Tabitha escort him back to his home to keep watch over her new charge.

"I'll be back for you in the morning. ok?" Tabitha asked, kissing Micky on the cheek.

"Ok, I'm kind of looking forward to it. You guys seem to understand me better than my own friends right now."

"Give them time and they will come around." Smiling she added, "Sleep well."

"Goodnight, Tabitha." Micky turned to go inside and was immediately greeted by three irate friends.

***

"Where the hell have you been," Mike demanded.

"You had us worried sick!" Peter yelled.

"Are you just gonna stand there like a statue or you gonna answer?" Davy shouted.

Micky closed his eyes. He was tired and in no mood for their anger. He was about to walk past his three friends and go to bed when Mike grabbed his arm.

“Answer me, Micky!"

"What the fuck is wrong with you three? You act like you're my keepers. I don't need a damn babysitter! As far as I knew, we didn't have anything planned tonight, so what if I stay out all day or even all night!" He jerked away from Mike, and as he did, several dishes in the cupboard flew out and crashed on the wall. "Damnit!" Micky turned, "Just leave me alone," he added through gritted teeth and slammed the door behind him, leaving the others to wonder what just happened.

'Why can't they leave me alone? Why do they always have to find something to berate me for?' Micky's mind screamed. His head started hurting. Gritting his teeth harder to stave the tears, he walked out to the beach.

The towel he had left earlier was still there. Slumping down on it, Micky closed his eyes. His head really hurt now. He’d never felt so miserable. A couple of tears escaped and Micky swiped at them impatiently. He drew in a deep, shaky breath and curled up in a ball, hugging his knees, and fell asleep.

An odd surreal dream of wild cats and sandwiches shook him from his slumber and he woke up cold. He’d forgotten he was outside, and decided to go sleep in his own warm bed for what remained of the night.

***

The next morning, it was the sounds of confused shouts that woke Micky.

"What the Hell!" Mike was standing at the end of his bed staring down at it scratching his head and looking at the floor around it.

Rolling over on his side and propping on an elbow, Micky asked, "What's up, Mike?"

"Sandy paw prints on my bed and on the floor. You bring a cat in here?"

"No, why would I bring a cat in here? We're not allowed pets."

Getting off his own bed, Micky padded over to where Mike stood to see what the Texan was accusing him of. Sure enough, little sandy paw prints were all over Mike's bed and on the floor. The drummer followed the trail out the door and down the stairs to the kitchen.

In the kitchen, Micky was greeted by Peter accusing Davy of eating the sandwiches he'd made the night before. "Why don't you ask Micky who ate them, he was the last to go to bed last night." Davy demanded.

Scratching his head, Micky stood bewildered. "You made sandwiches, Pete?"

"I don't think Micky did it. If he asks that, then he couldn't have," Peter stated.

"Yeah Mick, Pete made sandwiches last night. It was your turn to cook," Mike said behind Micky.

The drummer turned and remembered how irate everyone had been with him the previous night. Feeling his own anger rise, Micky closed his eyes and concentrated on that chant he’d forgotten the evening before.

"What are you mumbling over there?" Mike asked.

Ignoring Mike till he felt calmer, Micky continued chanting. Opening his eyes and in ultimate calmness, the curly headed man said in a matter of fact tone, "Is that why you verbally attacked me last night? Because I wasn't here to cater to your stomachs? Is that all I am to you three?" With that, he turned with the same calm and headed back upstairs, leaving his three befuddled band mates staring after him.

Mike stood silent for a minute and then started to laugh.

"What's so funny?" Davy wanted to know.

"I feel so stupid. We made Micky feel like shit last night. Here we are grown men and we pitched a fit just because Micky was out and not here to feed us. We're like puppy dogs or something." Mike said with uncontrollable laughing. "Woof!" The Texan barked, "Feed me daddy!"

Davy and Peter joined in the laughter. Thinking of themselves as dogs that begged to be fed did sound pretty stupid.

In the bedroom he shared with Mike, Micky heard the laughter from downstairs. 'What are they laughing at? Laughing at my expense, no doubt. Glad to know I'm the brunt of everyone's jokes.'  He dressed quickly so he could escape the madhouse; grabbed his jacket and ran down the stairs.

”Later guys!" Micky shouted over the laughter. Closing the door behind him, he shook his head. He didn't know how much more he could stand.

***

As he turned in haste down the beach, he ran right into Tabitha. "Whoa! Sorry - you need to stop sneaking up on me like that." Putting his hand over his heart to slow the fast beating, he giggled.

”How did you sleep last night?"

Micky shook his head, "I had the craziest dream."

"Hermione will be very interested to hear it."

It didn't seem to take as long to get to the cabin today as it had the day before.

They were greeted at the door by Hermione and Tabitha left the two alone.

"Micky, sweetheart. Good morning. How did you sleep?"

"That's funny, Tabitha asked me that same question." Before he could say anymore his stomach growled turning Micky's cheeks deep red. He grabbed his stomach in embarrassment and apologized.

"Pish tosh, don't be sorry. I'll just fix you something to eat before we begin lessons."

"Oh no you don't have to do that."

"Yes I do, I can't have you dropping in the middle of a lesson from hunger. You're going to need your strength. So I won't take no for an answer."

Micky knew not to argue. Hermione led him to a vast kitchen and sat him at the small round table that was in the middle. Knowing he usually ate cold cereal for breakfast Hermione decided to fix real food for her young student: omelets and bacon, pancakes and sliced fruit. When Micky finished. he felt better than he had in a long time. 'The guys would be jealous if they knew what I got for breakfast.' He grinned. "Thank you very much." The young man said to the pretty witch.

Patting Micky on the back she said, "You are very welcome."

In the den, she led him to a long, ornate mahogany table that had carved lions paws for legs and matching upholstered tall backed chairs. Then she walked over to the book shelf and took two rather large books down.

Sitting next to Micky, she laid the books in front of him. One had animals of all sorts on the cover and said Animanipuli. The other had a picture of a head that had all kinds of designs all over it and it plainly stated Mind Manipulation.

Hermione opened the Animanipuli first. Micky looked at her curiously as she flipped to a page that had a medium sized white cat with almond shaped brown eyes. "Nice cat, what is it?"

"Why don't you tell me about your dream first?"

He remembered the vivid dream easily...

He dreamed he was stealthily climbing the stairs to the balcony just outside his and Mike's bedroom. Jumping through the open window with quiet ease, he landed on Mike's bed. Micky watched his friend sleep for a bit then got bored. He felt hungry. Jumping off the bed, he went downstairs.

As luck would have it, someone had left a plate of cold sandwiches on the counter. Micky ate a couple and felt better. Walking back upstairs he paused just long enough to hear Mike whisper in his sleep. He jumped back out the window and down the stairs onto the sand.

He then told Hermione about losing his temper last night because his friends were angry with him for not being there to feed them.

"Losing your temper is to be expected at times; at least you knew to do the relaxation technique this morning." She smiled.

"How did you know that?"

"You'll find out later. Right now, I want to tell you, that was no dream you had last night. You actually did those things. You were not in your human form." She tapped the picture in the book.

"Wait … are you saying I became …," he pointed to the picture Hermione had just tapped, "that?"

She nodded.

"Damn!" Micky was grinning from ear to ear. "Are you going to teach me how to control it?"

"Basil will do that, Animanipulation is his forté." Then she pulled the book with the head on it closer and opened it to the first chapter. "I need to teach you about this."

"Why?"

"Because you need to learn to control it. This will cause you great trouble if you can't keep it in control. Bear in mind that not everyone can do it, but you can. You've been doing it. You did it this morning without meaning to."

"I did? What did I do?"

"The reason your friends were laughing themselves into a stupor this morning is because you made them do it." Seeing the look of horror on his face she quickly added, "You didn't mean to. You didn't know you'd done it. They hurt you and humiliated you and in the back of your mind, you wanted them to see what they were doing and how stupid they were being."

"Is this the first time I've done that?" Micky hoped she would say yes. But the look on her face told him differently. "When," he added quietly, not really wanting to hear the truth.

"Remember when you had all those gigs? And the girls were all over you?"

"Yes." He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, letting it out slowly, "That was because of me? I made all those girls hang all over me?"

"Not all of them - just a lot of them. You were lonely and bored and your mind projected the need for attention."

Micky laid his head on the table. He let out a small sob. Hermione put a hand on his shoulder. She knew what he was thinking.

After a minute, he raised up, eyes brimming with tears, "When Davy made that pass at me, I did that?"

"No, you did not do that. Think, if you really wanted him, would you have attacked him? He did that on his own accord and because he let his jealousy cloud his judgment. Deep down, Davy is not the one you want."

The young man was a little confused by her last statement but didn't feel up to dwelling on it much.

***

Working the rest of the day and well into the night, Hermione taught Micky how to control his manipulative mind and to use it only when he absolutely needed to. She also taught him a technique on soul/spirit protection she thought he might need.

The time was almost 2 a.m. Hermione didn't want Micky to leave when he was so exhausted and she knew he would not be able to walk home in his state. So she convinced the young prodigy to stay the night in the spare bedroom where he could get a good restful sleep.

She sensed worry, and so she went to make a call to Mike.

***

"Okay, thanks for letting me know." Mike hung up the phone.

"Who was that," the little Brit asked.

"A friend of Micky's. She said he'd been working hard over at her house all day and she was going to have him crash there tonight."

"I bet he was working hard," Davy said with a hint of sarcasm that insinuated more was going on.

"Damnit Davy! Why's everything gotta revolve around sex with you? Can't you give Micky the benefit of the doubt? He's not you, ya know!" Mike stormed off to his room.

Davy looked to Pete, "When did he get so touchy about Micky?!"

The blond shrugged his shoulders.

"I'm goin' ta bed." Davy slammed the bedroom door.

"Night," Pete said to the closed door. Shaking his head, the tall blond bohemian thought, 'Shorty's gonna get his ass kicked one of these days.'

Peter decided to sleep in the hammock in the living room; he couldn’t sleep in the same room with Davy when he was angry. It threw all harmony off balance.

Mike lay in bed listening to the sound of the waves crashing about outside. He couldn't sleep when Micky wasn't there. It was too quiet. Whether he wanted to admit it to anyone else was entirely beside the point, he cared for Micky beyond just a platonic friendship, and that made himself angry. Micky could never be that way, he could never share those feelings.

Hell, he’d nearly quit the band and moved out when Davy pulled his stunt a couple months ago. Mike could have killed that damn little Brit for that. It took some smooth talking to get Micky to stay. What made it worse was how Mike himself had been treating Micky lately. When the drummer left earlier that morning, the Texan had every intention of apologizing for the way he was treating his friend.

He knew something was up with Micky and was hoping he could get him alone to talk about it. The weird things that were going on didn't concern Mike as much as it did the others. He knew Micky would talk about it when or if he felt comfortable and figured out for himself what was going on. What concerned the Texan was that he wanted his friend to know he had a confidant when he needed one.

Rolling over to face the window, Mike closed his eyes. Images of Micky floated to his brain. Weird lights emanated from the curly hair, objects floated by without anyone touching them. Mike by his side, not worried; it felt right for some strange reason. Reaching over, he took Micky's hand in his own and looked into his brown, almond shaped eyes. He leaned in and kissed the wide, pouty mouth. The response Mike got was tender and full of love.

Snuggling deeper in the bed Mike smiled to himself, urging the dream to continue.

***

Micky crawled into bed and pulled the covers over his head. His mind was racing and sleep would not come easy. Tossing and turning, the wizard-in-training lay in bed for a while waiting for his brain to slow down but it wouldn't.

Groaning, Micky crawled out of bed. Maybe Hermione would still be up and have an idea what would help him sleep. Walking into the hall he turned and ran straight into Basil as a cat.

Bending down he said, "Hi, Basil, what're you up to?"

"Prowling around. Catch ya later, Mick." With a flick of his tail, he took off down the hall.

'Wow, he can still talk as a cat. Wonder if I can do that too,' he thought to himself as he walked farther down the hall.

Hearing a murmur, Micky turned his head to the source of the noise. It was female - whatever it was. Hermione told him there was another that lived in the house besides her Basil and Tabitha.

Curiosity getting the better of him, he spotted an open door. Eerie yellow-white light came from it. Walking to it, he paused. Standing in the middle of the room was a completely nude woman who looked to be in her late thirties or early forties. Attractive and fairly slender, she had short firey-red, curly hair. Her arms were raised above her head and she continued her chant, the light surrounding her.

Micky stared transfixed for a few minutes before realizing he shouldn't be spying on her. Slowly backing away, he retreated down the hall, hoping to find Hermione.

He found the raven haired beauty in the den. Hermione was sitting with her legs tucked up under her in front of the fireplace with spell books spread out all around.

He cleared his throat quietly so he wouldn't startle the pretty witch. Looking up, Hermione smiled warmly. Patting the space next to her, she indicated she wanted him to sit, Micky walked shyly over.

"What are you reading?" He stifled a yawn.

"Just some spells I needed to brush up on." Reaching up, she brushed a stray curl from Micky's eyes. "Couldn't sleep?"

Stifling another yawn, he shook his head and smiled dreamily. "I haven't seen Tabitha all day. Saw Basil in the hall in his cat form. He can talk as a cat? Can I do that too?"

"Full of questions. Tabitha and Basil are dating. They are off playing some little game. Yes, you will be able to talk in your cat form."

"When will I learn to control my transformation?"

"Tomorrow, but tonight you need to rest."

"I can't sleep, I tried."

"I can help if you want."

Nodding his head, he yawned, "Sorry. Please, I was hoping you might be able to help."

Reaching up Hermione stroked Micky's forehead with her fingertips, tracing down his cheek to his beautiful pouty lips. The curly top smiled drunkenly, his eyes drooped sleepily. Leaning in, she kissed him. That simple kiss sent shivers all over him. Every inch of his body begged to be touched in some way. Micky kissed her back, hoping he could convey the need he felt, moaning deep within his throat.

He could feel himself being gently pushed onto his back. Hermione continued kissing as her hands undid the buttons on Micky's pajama top. Parting the young man's lips with her tongue she explored the texture and taste of his mouth. Pulling the shirt off, Hermione let her hands explore the object of her desire's chest and shoulders. Squeezing his smooth pecs and massaging his biceps.

Moaning slightly, Micky wrapped his arms around Hermione's waist. Sliding down, she kissed her way from his neck to the soft fuzz on his stomach. Slipping Micky's bottoms off, she found her goal and kissed the head. Micky drew in a sharp breath. With Hermoine licking his staff languidly, as she would a popsicle that she really enjoyed, Micky writhed under her control.

Taking his entire length inside her warm wet mouth, she made little throaty moaning noises that seemed to drive Micky wild with desire.

"Oh Hermione, don't...s-stop." His breathing was erratic and ragged. He went from panting to slowly taking sharp breaths to groaning pleasurably.

'I just love those little noises he makes. He sounds like he's singing.' Hermione was very turned on, but continued to work Micky till he was close. Undressing herself, she bent down and kissed Micky before inserting his throbbing member inside her warm tightness.

'He's so beautiful and has the sweetest smile,' Hermione thought as Micky smiled languidly up at her. She began thrusting her hips into his, and Micky automatically began thrusting in time with her. Holding onto her hips, his head rolled back. Their bodies rocked in rhythm.

Micky felt as if he left his body and was floating high above the clouds into the stars. He wanted to stay in the heavens. All too soon, the rocket went off and he came crashing back down to earth, moaning loudly and sweating from the experience.

Hermione lay on top of Micky panting. He wrapped his arms around her waist and smiled sleepily. Sleep rushed in and made its home, finally. Lying in his arms, Hermione watched her sweet young wizard-in-training sleep. Brushing a few stray curls from his eyes, she kissed him.

Smiling to herself, she decided to let Micky sleep where he lay. Poor thing was exhausted. Covering his naked body with the dream quilt her grandmother had made and placing a pillow under his head, she decided to go to bed herself.

'He's good,' She thought, and drifted off to sleep.

***

Micky's dreams were the most peaceful he'd had in years. He dreamt he was back in the days when Native Americans were the only inhabitants of America. He was a shaman-in-training then, and his mentor was strict, but kind and gentle.

He was learning new incantations to control the elements. Things were going well and the chief was pleased and instructed the shaman to continue the good fortunes around them. Micky was also betrothed to the chief's daughter.

The chief had hand selected Micky over his most brutal warrior, preferring Micky's cunning ways of getting things done. He knew the young man would make a fine husband and would protect his daughter and never hurt her. It was a known fact that the warriors of the tribe ruled their wives and children the way they ruled the battles they fought. Strength did not overcome compassion and brains; the chief knew this to be true.

Micky was in his tent, preparing some potions the shaman needed for the upcoming winter. Busy, with his mind on the task at hand, he didn't hear when his betrothed sauntered in. Coming up behind him, she placed her hands over his eyes and whispered in his ear in their native tongue. He smiled and turned to greet her. She placed a long, wanting kiss on Micky's lips. He knew what she wanted; he wanted it too, but now was not the time. They would have plenty of time for that after tomorrow, for it was to be their wedding day.

Convincing her to be content to sit next to him, he showed her the ceramic jars of potions he'd already concocted for the shaman. She beamed proudly at her husband to be.

She was very beautiful, with skin that was golden-red, silky, long blue-black hair, high cheek bones and the most cunning almond-shaped, deep brown eyes that Micky found himself getting lost in.

On their wedding day, the whole tribe was excited. It seemed nature was also ecstatic. There was no threat of rain, the song birds sang their best and every beast in the high forest was quiet. The ceremony lasted all day and well into the night. Everybody rejoiced at their new shaman-prince and princess.

After all was settled, it was time to retire to their huts and tents. The chief and shaman had ordered an elaborate hut be built for the tribe's new shaman-prince and princess. It was a wedding gift from the old shaman and chief.

Retiring into their new home, the happy couple wasted no time getting to know each other intimately. Their lovemaking lasted well into the next day.

***

"Micky, sweetie, time to rise and shine." Hermione shook the dreamer gently.

Micky stirred and moaned. 'Why do I gotta get up now?' He wanted to live in his dream world. The pretty witch smiled. She knew he'd had a pleasant dream - that's why her grandmother had made this particular dream quilt for. It allows the user to visit good times in their past lives. Placing a hand on his shoulder she whispered, "Khah-ee" (meaning "rise" in Egyptian).

Micky's eyes fluttered open and he smiled. Stretching gloriously, causing the quilt to drift below his narrow bare hips, he said, "Morning."

"Sleep well?" Hermione asked with amusement in her voice. 'God he's sexy when he first wakes up.'

Placing his hands on his taut, bare stomach and barely stifling a yawn, he nodded. Blinking his eyes, he smiled again.

"Hungry?"

"Yes."

"Here are your clothes. Get washed and dressed and breakfast will be ready when you’re finished. Okay?" She smiled warmly. 'He's cute and loveable too,' Hermione thought, humming to herself.

***

After breakfast, Hermione had Basil set about the task of teaching Micky to shape shift at will. After mastering his self-control, Micky became a quick study and learned in no time at all.

The curly headed wizard was soon having a cat wrestling match with Basil. Hermione and Tabitha sat on the couch laughing at the sight in front of them. Black and white alternating. They looked like a rotating yin-yang sign.

The lady Micky had walked in on, waltzed in on the scene. "What's all this?" she asked, crossing her arms and shaking her head at the sight before her.

"Gloria! You've decided to grace us with your presence today," Hermione said joyously.

At that moment, Basil and Micky transformed into their human forms. "Well hello to you too, Gloria, old girl," Basil greeted.

Micky was feeling extremely shy at that moment, a bit embarrassed for watching her the previous night. Her skin was creamy white and her eyes were fast dissolving pools of blue. Looking to Hermione, he blushed.

She knew what had happened. Smiling, she rose from the couch, took Micky's hands in her own and led him to meet Gloria.

"Gloria, I would like you to meet our new prodigy, Micky Dolenz. Micky, this is Gloria." Whispering rather loudly she added, "She prefers not give out her last name."

Tabitha and Basil snickered.

Gloria rolled her eyes and grinned. "Welcome, Micky. Don't be shy. The longer you stay around here, the more strange things you'll see." She winked.

'Oh dear God, she knows,' Micky thought, turning an even deeper shade of red. He began to sputter an apology, but his tongue kept getting twisted and he failed miserably. Looking down at his feet, Micky fidgeted.

Placing a finger under his chin, Gloria whispered, "No need to apologize and no need to feel ashamed. It was my fault for leaving the door open. You are new to all this and I see you have a very curious nature about you, probably why you turn into a cat. They are notoriously curious."

"Oh, that he is Gloria. He's also a very quick study. His lessons are progressing at an alarming rate."

Micky smiled, embarrassed again.

Gloria clasped her hands together. "Oh, is that so! I'm very pleased to hear that. Now tell me, besides turning into a feline, what else can he do so far?”

Hermione filled Gloria in on all the magic Micky had done.

"I have a strong feeling he has more untapped power. Do you mind if I work with him the rest of the day," the older woman asked.

"Of course not." Turning to Basil, Hermione asked, "You feel quite satisfied with how well Micky transforms?"

"Yes, yes, I'm a little jealous to tell the truth. It took me two weeks to be able to control mine." Basil beamed at Micky. The curly headed man bit his lip and blushed again for what felt like the thousandth time that day. He wasn't used to all this praise.

***

Alone with Gloria in the den, Micky asked, "So what are you going to teach me? I mean, what do you do? Actually, what does everybody do?"

"My, Hermione told me you were full of questions. Well it appears the answers are up to me. Can't have you full of questions about what I need to teach you."

Gloria explained that she was a Conjurer; she conjured spirits, invoked powers and spells. Hermione was a Truwitch: read minds, conjured spells, manipulated her surroundings. Tabitha was a Truceir: could read people's souls and do basic spells. Basil an Animanipulus: change shape, manipulate events.

"So, not everyone can do everything, right?" Micky was getting a little nervous. He got the feeling that those who could would be hell to deal with.

"Some can. You'll meet a couple soon. Not all of us are good, mind you. There are those who choose to use their gifts for evil."

"The ones that I'll meet, they're good...right?"

Sensing Micky was getting edgy, but knowing he needed to hear the truth, Gloria explained that he would encounter the one that had been giving them a lot of trouble - probably very soon. He would also meet someone from his past, a past life, that would be a mentor.

"When I met Tabitha, she said I wasn't safe. Why?"

"The evil one, Xerxes, wants you. Wants you to join his side and be his right hand man. The draw back of that is that he will drain you of your powers when he wants and keep you in a state of mind where you can not function without him."

"That's sick. Why me? What is so "special" about me that he would want to do that?" Micky's stomach was churning.

"You are what we all have been waiting for, for a very long time. Your mentor can only do so much alone. You will eventually take his place. Xerxes doesn't like that."

"So you believe I can do everything? I can't read minds."

"There are alternatives to reading minds. You will be taught that by someone you have been close to. It's time to see what you can do."

The rest of the evening, Gloria showed Micky how to conjure spirits and evoke the powers within them. Different spirits had different abilities. Micky conjured spirits that invoked lights. These, she explained, were lights of power. Each color meant something different. He conjured a blood-red; this was deadly. A blue: protection, which when done right, could surround him and everyone within Micky's vicinity that he deemed worthy of protecting. Green-white: healing. There were different levels of healing light. The green-white meant he could keep death from happening. Yellow: summoning help. The yellow-white he'd seen the night before was just a basic summoning of Mother Nature herself.

"So, is there a label for me?" Micky asked exhausted.

"No, sorry, no label can even begin to touch the things you are able to do. You are just what you were born, a wizard. Can't get more powerful than that," Gloria said ruffling his hair.

***

Outside, unbeknownst to the others, a man stood in the shadows. Not one to normally go scouting on his own, but he was curious; he really wanted that young wizard. He knew he could not enter the cabin. It was under too much protection. So he had to content himself with watching from the shadows what was taking place inside.

The man blended very well with the darkness in his black velvet clothing. Stroking his chin he knew he would have fun trying to get to the young man. He already had his little pawns in place for the night. Mortal minds were so easy to bend.

"What a surprise young Micky will have when he returns home this evening. He won't know what hit him."

There was one draw back to this man's plan; he only knew of what Micky could conjure and manipulate. He had no idea the young man could shape shift also. His spies failed to get that information.

***

Just as Micky was getting ready to leave, Tabitha came to him and gave him a huge hug. "Be careful waling home.  One of us will be by to get you in the morning."

"I promise, I'll be careful." Returning the hug, Micky turned and walked out the door.

The walk home was quiet. Micky's nerves were a little on edge. To ease himself, he began singing a little song he just made up. It made him feel better. Even his singing seemed to be at an all time high.

All seemed quiet at the beach house. It was pitch black inside. Not thinking much of it, since it was quite late and the guys must have already turned in, he opened the door. A pair of strong arms grabbed him from behind.

"Gotcha!" A voice growled.

Micky stiffened. Mike held him in a dead lock and he couldn't move. He was being led to the stairs. Afraid to speak, but even more frightened not to, Micky tried to keep his voice calm as he asked, "Mike, what's wrong?"

The Texan said nothing as he continued to drag the curly headed man up the stairs. Kicking the bedroom door open, Mike locked his arm around Micky's neck and slammed the door behind them, locking it.

"Don't say a word, don't bother screaming. I've been wanting to do this for a long time." Mike shoved Micky against the door, pinning the frightened young man with his body. Pressing his lips against Micky's, he forced his tongue inside the younger man's mouth, causing Micky to gag a little from the forced entry.

Micky's mind raced. What was causing his friend to do this to him? Mike wouldn't force himself on Micky for anything. The young wizard could sense his Texan friend was battling internally. He didn't know how he sensed it; he just knew.

Not wanting to upset the taller and stronger Mike, Micky decided to do the only thing he could think of without hurting his friend. He went limp in Mike's arms and let the ebony haired man scoop him up and carry him to the closest bed.

Lying down on the bed next to Micky, Mike made the mistake of turning on the bedside lamp. The look that was awaiting him in the light melted whatever spell or trance the Texan was under. A mixture of fear and hurt, understanding and love was what he saw in Micky's tear filled eyes.

Reaching up, Micky brushed the back of his fingertips against Mike's hot cheek. "Do what you will Michael. I forgive you."

Snapping out of whatever he was under, the taller man cried, "Oh God, Micky. I'm so sorry, I don't know what got into me. I could have hurt you. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry." Mike laid his head on Micky's shoulder and cried. He truly did not want to do that to his friend. He’d tried to fight it. True, he wanted to be with Mick, but not this way.

"Mike it's okay, I understand. I know why you did it or at least I know what made you do it." Wrapping his arms around Mike, the drummer held him, comforting till Mike felt better.

Raising up, Mike looked down at Micky. "You are truly amazing. I nearly rape you and you still find it in your heart to comfort me. Why?"

"You're my best friend. I care about you. And I know what made you do it. You weren't acting under your own power."

"Thanks Mick. Come on, we need to talk." Reaching his hand out for Micky to take, he helped his friend off the bed.

***

"Damnit!" Xerxes was waiting in the shadows, "Well, there are still two others I can use."

***

Davy and Peter were returning home from a double date. Before they got out of the car, a strange man came up to them and spoke in an odd tongue. Handing Peter an object and Davy a cloth, he ordered the two to go into the house.

Mike and Micky were sitting on the couch talking quietly. "I can't tell you everything that's going on with me right now. You wouldn't believe it anyway. But I'm going through some really wild stuff. I don't know if it's safe for me to be around you three right now. Something like this might happen again."

"Mick, whatever it is, we can work through it. I wish you would let me know a little more than what you are now...." Mike paused; he sensed something was wrong. Micky seemed to sense it too. Looking at each other, they rose off the couch.

Micky turned around to see Davy and Peter had returned home, but they had made no noise when they came in and were acting very strange. Turning back to Mike, he whispered, "Get out now, something's not right."

Mike stood his ground, shaking his head no. "I'm not leaving you here alone."

Both turned their attention to Davy and Peter. Mike spoke, "Hey guys, have a good night out?"

Davy's English lilt was very pronounced. "Why certainly, Mike. Pete and I had a wonderful time. Oh Micky, we met a friend of yours a bit ago."

Peter finished. "Yes, he said to say hello and give you his best regards."

Mike looked to Micky. "Oh, he did, did he? What are you hiding behind your back, Pete?"

"A present from a friend. He wants us to give it to you both."

"Yes, he said he was very disappointed with you, Michael. You didn't go through with what you so desperately wanted for so long."

Just then, Xerxes appeared. "Enough of this stalling! Do it now!"

Davy and Peter rushed to Mike and Micky. They were confused. Xerxes had failed to tell them which to take down first. Micky used this as an opportunity to send Mike away to Hermione's cabin. That left him to deal with these three alone.

Peter and Davy's confusion disappeared when Mike vanished. They turned on Micky with fury. Micky didn't want to hurt his friends. Before he could come up with a plan, Davy was upon him with the rag in his hand, smothering the taller man with it. Peter descended on Micky and brandished a syringe filled with thick yellow liquid. Micky's eyelids were drooping quickly. Before he thought what he could do, he transformed into his cat form.

Hearing a hiss and a scream, Micky fled the house without looking back. He ran as fast as he could toward the cabin and collapsed just outside the door.

***

Mike found himself standing in the middle of what appeared to be a den. Four people were staring back at him in amazement. Looking around he yelled, "Micky! Where are you!"

Hermione jumped to her feet, followed by the others. "Are you Mike, Micky's friend?"

"Yes, I am. He's in trouble. How did I get here?"

Basil asked, "Where is he?"

"Last I saw, he was still at the pad. What's going on here?"

Tabitha grabbed Basil's hand. "Come on, we gotta find him!"

Gloria went to the front door. She sensed something was outside that needed attention. Looking down, she saw a white cat that appeared to be passed out. Scooping the cat in her arms, she turned back inside.

"I don't think you have to go anywhere, you two. I think who we're looking for is right here in my arms."

Hermione rushed forward and took Micky into her own arms. Walking over to the couch, she summoned Mike to sit with her.

"Why are you holding that cat? Why aren't you going to help Micky?"

"Shh, watch. You'll understand." Stroking the cat's back, she cooed and spoke in an ancient dialect. Taking Mike's hand in hers, she instructed him to do the same.

The cat stirred after several minutes. What Mike saw astonished him beyond belief. The feline started taking on a human form, then as if the cat had never existed, Micky lay in its place. His legs draped across Mike's lap and his head rested in Hermione's. Blinking slowly Micky opened his eyes. His hand rushed to his head. Groaning, he spoke, "God my head," drawing in a sharp breath, "it hurts."

Gloria came back with a cold compress and some herbal mixture. "Drink."

The headache went away instantly. Slumping back down, Micky sighed, "Thank you."

"Hey Mick, are you alright?" Mike was worried. Looking down at his friend, the concern was evident.

The young wizard jerked up suddenly. "Mike! Oh thank God it worked! I was afraid I might have sent you to Timbuktu or some crazy place!" Before he knew what he was doing, his arms flew around Mike's neck.

Mike returned the hug. Drawing Micky back, he looked his friend in the eyes, "You wanna tell me what's going on now?"

Micky bit his lip. Looking down at his hands he faltered. Looking back up to Hermione for approval, he started. "I found out a few days ago why all those weird things have been happening. I was the one doing them."

"Okay, go on." Mike was all ears as Micky, Hermione, Basil, Tabitha, and Gloria filled him in on everything he needed to know.

Gloria added, "Micky remember when I told you there were alternatives to reading minds and you would have someone that was close to you show you what that is and how to use it?'

"Yeah?" Turning he looked at Mike. "Mike?"

"What about me," Mike wondered aloud.

"Michael, you have a gift that you don't realize you have. You have been using it all your life. It has saved you from many downfalls." Gloria said matter-of-factly.

"I do?" Mike's nose crinkled. "What is it?"

"You are an empath. You have the ability to see or feel others’ feelings. It helped you tonight. It helped Micky also. You know how to use it, read it. We need you to teach Micky. He has the ability, but it is undefined. The only one who can help him with that is you."

"Why me?"

Because you two are very close. You’re best friends. More than best friends, deep down."

Mike blushed. Micky turned his head to Hermione for an explanation. "I think we need to give Micky and Mike some time alone."

"Wait!" Micky remembered about Peter and Davy.

"We are already on it, Micky. Your two friends are safely tucked away. We can't let them know where you are. Xerxes will want both of you now."

"Why?" Micky asked

"Because he will try to use Mike against you again, like he tried tonight," Hermione answered, and they left the pair alone in the den.

***

Micky continued to sit on the couch. Tucking his feet under him and staring at the fire. Mike paced the room looking at the various books that lined one side of the wall.

Micky couldn't stand the silence anymore. Watching his friend pace, he finally spoke. "Mike? Will you talk to me? What are you thinking? You think I'm some freak now?"

Mike stopped dead in his tracks; turning to look Micky directly in the eyes. He strode over to the couch and sat down. "Why do you think I would think such a thing? No, I don't think you're a freak. Hell, you saved me twice tonight. If anything, you're amazing. But definitely not a freak." Drawing a deep breath, Mike stared at his hands. "Hell if anyone's a freak, I am."

"Why? What makes you a freak?"

"That Xerxes fella, he knew my deepest feelings and turned them into something hideous. If I hadn't had those feelings you would have never gone though that hell I put you through tonight."

"Mike, you can't blame yourself for what Xerxes did. He wants me and will do anything to get at me. He's evil and cares about nothing but what he wants, and it doesn't matter how he gets it." Micky paused and sighed. "Besides if that makes you a freak, then I guess it makes me a freak too." He turned his head and stared at the fire.

Mike sat in silence for a minute looking at his friend. Placing a finger under Micky's chin, he turned the curly top's head to face him. Looking in his friend's almond shaped brown eyes, Mike saw the confusion and torment, and most of all the loneliness. Micky was so beautiful, perfect in every way. Mike giggled internally, 'A male Mary Poppins.'

He stroked a thumb over the bottom lip of Micky's wide mouth, then leaned in and kissed his friend gently. Cupping the back of Micky's long neck he felt how soft those curls really were. Mike drew his friend in closer and kissed him deeper.

Micky couldn't help but respond. Mike was so gentle, taking such care not to hurt him in any way. He felt tingles up and down his spine as the Texan wrapped his other arm around his waist. The drummer found his hands had a mind of their own. They were roaming Mike's chest and shoulders. This was definitely different from making out with a girl.

Mike slipped his tongue in gently and could taste the sweetness that was Micky. He wanted to taste more of his friend but didn't want to rush him. A little moan escaped from deep inside the curly headed guy and Mike could feel himself get hot.

Pulling away slowly, Mike looked into Micky's eyes. Resting his forehead on Mick's, Mike sighed. A minute passed and he gathered the courage to tell his friend what he felt. "Babe, I want more of you. I want to taste every inch of you, to feel you in my arms, but I'll understand if you aren't ready."

"Mike, I trust you. If you want me, then that's good enough."
Taking Mike's hands, he led the tall Texan to the room he was given the previous night.

Closing the door behind them, Mike made sure it was locked; he wanted no interruptions. Micky stood in front of the window gazing at the moon. Mike stood back for a couple minutes watching how gorgeous his friend looked in the moonlight.

Walking up behind him, Mike wrapped his arms around the man's thin waist. Nuzzling Micky's neck, he breathed in the scent, sweet and a little musky. The Texan nibbled on the ear lobe that teased his nose, kissing just under Micky's ear. Micky's head fell back onto Mike's shoulder and he smiled.

He turned Micky to face him, and began to slip the sweater off over Micky's head. Running his hands on Micky's smooth chest, Mike leaned in and kissed his friend's waiting lips. Reaching down, he unbuttoned Micky's cords, slipping them down so Mike could run his hands around Micky's bare narrow hips and grabbed the drummer's ass, squeezing gently. Micky's rear end felt smooth and soft in Mike's calloused hands.

Guiding the wizard to the bed, Mike gently pushed him down and continued to undress him. Laying completely naked, Micky looked up at Mike, watching him get undressed. Normally Micky would have preferred to have some play in the undressing game, but considering the events of the night, he decided to let Mike have all the control. He’d had all the control he wanted earlier when he’d made Mike vanish.

Climbing in bed, the Texan crawled on top of Micky. The curly haired young wizard reached up and kissed Mike on his chin. Slumping back down, Micky looked up at his friend, smiling coyly. That look turned the hardened Texan to mush and made him burn with desire. He kissed Micky passionately on the lips and moved downward, kissing and licking his way all over Micky's body.

Taking the little brown nipple in his teeth, Mike nipped and sucked gently causing tingles and pinprick sensations to flood all over Micky's body. Drawing in a deep, sharp breath, Micky moaned. The reaction spurred Mike on to try more. He continued downward, pausing slightly at Micky's fuzzy navel, and got a giggle when he licked it.

Feeling wet, warm kisses travel downward to the inside of his thigh, Micky stopped giggling. He wanted to be touched more, but he didn't want to rush Mike.

Mike licked the underside of Micky's balls and sucked the area between and down to his small ready hole. Micky's back arched, and he moaned, grabbing the sheets under him. Licking his way back up, Mike paid special attention to the throbbing rod that begged to be touched in some way.

Taking all of Micky's decent sized member in his mouth, the Texan set a rhythm that seemed to drive his lover into a frenzy. Groaning and moaning, Micky writhed under Mike's control. The Texan wrapped his arms around the thin waist to steady himself. He wasn't about to stop till he had all of Micky.

Micky felt himself close to the edge. He tried to get Mike to stop by writhing under him. He didn't want to come in his friend's mouth, but it seemed he had no choice when the ebony haired Texan wrapped his arms around Micky's waist. After holding out as long as he could and trying to give Mike every chance to back off, Micky came with the biggest explosion ever. Grabbing the pillow behind his head, the drummer muffled his screams.

Mike swallowed every last drop of Micky's salty sweetness. He was a little disappointed when Micky grabbed the pillow to muffle his screams, but he understood. Micky didn't want everyone to get scared and come running.

Mike sidled up to look at Micky. He still had the pillow squeezed over his head and was breathing as if he had run a marathon. Mike chuckled silently and took the pillow from his friend's grasp. Looking down into Micky's eyes, Mike smiled and Micky giggled.

Kissing Micky passionately again, Mike conveyed his desires. No words were needed. A small silver tube appeared on the bedside table. Looking over at it and then to Micky, Mike grinned and shook his head. "Well, there's some advantages to having a wizard for a lover."

Mike wanted the first time to be right and he wanted to look into Micky's eyes as he made love to him. He lubed himself and Micky. Slipping a finger inside, he felt how tight Micky would be and slipped another finger inside, stroking and stretching as best he could. Mike didn't want to hurt Micky for all the tea in China.

Micky prepared himself for what he was about to feel. Instead of thinking about how much it might hurt, he focused on being close to Mike and giving his friend the pleasure he craved. When Mike slipped inside, Micky didn't feel the pain he expected; he felt warmth and love. That feeling created the pleasures Micky himself felt as Mike pumped gently inside.

"Are you okay babe?" Mike asked.

"Mm-hmm." Micky nodded and to show he was fine, he wrapped his thin arms around Mike's waist and thrust his hips into the man on top and drew his new lover into an embrace, kissing the tip of his nose. This threw Mike into a tizzy of pleasure. "Oh Micky, you feel so good."

Micky's warm tightness was accentuated when he thrust his hips into Mike. Bending into Micky's arms, the Texan planted soft, passionate butterfly kisses all over his lover's face.

Building a rhythm, the lovers danced for what seemed an eternity. They were in their own world as Xerxes made his next plan to get the two he deemed worthy to be at his side. He knew now that he would never have the young Micky without the strong Texan by his side.

***

Xerxes would have to do something to keep the young, curly headed wizard from shape shifting into that cat. The old wizard hated all cats, but abhorred white ones. White cats were symbols of pureness. He needed Micky for that, but he didn't need the cat. Cats were known guardians of the underworld. Xerxes had cheated death many times and for this reason, he hated cats.

The evil wizard had to find a way to get to the tall lover. Micky's powers were growing and Xerxes had to get the young man before he became too powerful for him to control.

An idea came to his twisted brain. Calling two of his minions to his side, he gave them instructions and turned to set about his task.

***

"What?" Mike asked, pretending to be abashed. "Can't handle the truth? Get used to it babe, there's more." With that, he bent down and nuzzled the red faced wizard's ear.

That sent little shivers of desire all over the curly haired man's body. Moaning, Micky said, "You know which buttons to push, don't ya?"

Shifting a little, Mike reached down between the two of them and lightly squeezed their erections together, pumping them in time. Micky's head rolled back into the pillow and he squeezed his eyes shut.

Looking down at Micky's prone form, Mike committed to memory the sensations and the way his young lover looked beneath him. He loved the way Micky would arch his back, and the way his long graceful neck stretched out when Micky felt pleasure. Bending closer, Mike kissed and sucked on his magical lover's neck and soft shoulder, leaving tiny red passion marks.

Mike continued his double pecker play till he and Micky came together. Sweaty and sticky, they got out of bed and headed to the shower together.

***

In the den, the duet walked in on what looked like a convention of witches and wizards.

Hermione was standing with an older wizened wizard. The man looked like he was in his early 60's. He still looked very strong and fit, just had a lot of grey hair and had an air of extreme knowledge about him.

Looking closer at the man, Micky got a feeling of de-ja vu. The older wizard turned his head and looked directly into Micky's eyes. Hermione turned to see what had turned his attention from her and saw the pair standing together. She motioned for Mike and Micky to join her and the wizard.

Standing closer, the feeling of de-ja vu was even stronger. Micky spoke before he could stop himself. "Excuse me, but do I know you?"

The older man laughed. "In a way, I would say you do." Bending closer to Micky, he whispered loudly, "Can you remember the old Shaman from your dream?"

Micky's eyes went wide. "Pilan?!"

Mike was confused. "Excuse me, how do you know this man Mick and what dream is he speaking of?"

Micky explained the dream he had a couple nights ago. "I guess it wasn't just a dream, was it?" He asked, looking at Hermione.

"No, you were sleeping under a very special dream quilt." She smiled. "You actually visited a past life."

The man Micky called Pilan spoke. "I'm glad you remember me, only my earthly name is not 'Pilan' this life time. I'm known as Xavier."

"Well you have your same eyes. You'll forgive me if I slip up now and then and call you by your past life's name, won't you?"

"Only if you do me the same in return, Dyami," Xavier grinned.

"Ok, deal." Micky returned the grin. "So what's going on? Why all these people," he asked, placing his hands on his hips.

Hermione spoke. "Last night's little ordeal has caused everyone to be on edge. They're all looking to have you trained very soon so you can fight off Xerxes."

"I'm here to complete your training," Xavier explained.

Mike didn't like what he was hearing. Fight? Why did Micky have to do the fighting? He didn't want his friend fighting anyone. "Wait! What do you mean fight? Why does Micky have to be the one to fight that mad man, why can't any of you do it?"

Micky could tell Mike was going into his protector mode. He had to squelch it before it got out of hand. "Mike, I appreciate you wanting to keep me from harm’s way, but please understand. Xerxes wants me and will do anything to get me. He will probably come after you again, only he won't use you to harm me like he tried to last night. I can't have him hurting any of my friends just because of me. You still have to help me learn my empathic abilities. Will you?"

Xavier spoke up, sensing Mike's hesitation. "Micky is right. Have you wondered why you haven't seen your other two friends yet?"

Turning his attention to Xavier, the Texan answered, "Yes I have. Where are they?"

Micky had been wondering the very same thing. Looking to Xavier, he asked, "Why haven't we seen Peter and Davy? What exactly did Xerxes do to them that you want to keep them from us?"

"The spell he used on them after you left is designed to instantly allow him access to wherever they are when one or both sees either of you. That means the protection that we have on this cabin would be overridden by that spell," Xavier explained.

"I didn't know there were spells that could override other spells. Is it easy to do? I mean can just any witch or wizard do it?" Micky was curious, but worried.

"No, only two of us can do it. You will learn it also. It is a very difficult branch of magic and only those who are capable of all magic can perform overriding spells."

"Can't you override Xerxes' spell, then?"

"No, you can't undo an override spell. Once it's performed, the spell has to run its course, which for those two will be a while. They are out of harm's way and are being very well cared for."

Xavier wasted no more time in explaining to Mike that time was of the essence and they needed to get Micky's training finished. He wanted Mike to get started with his part first because Micky would need it for what Xavier would put him through.

Mike explained to the best of his ability what he thought Micky would need to recognize when his empathy kicked in. He used the example of last night, how both seemed to know something was wrong with their friends.

Catching on quickly to Mike's explanations, Micky understood that he'd been using it his whole life, but never always listened. During the times he failed to pay heed, he or someone he cared for would end up in some kind of trouble.

Micky had the feeling his friend was holding something back, but decided Mike would tell him in his own time.

Mike wanted to be around when Xavier began Micky's training, but Hermione thought better of it. She knew he wouldn't stand by and just watch his friend go through what he was about to. She decided that Mike needed a little training in the art of magic himself, so he could better understand Micky and maybe even help when it was needed. Plus, she was hoping it would deter his mind from Micky for a while.

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