Baby It's You

Baby It's You

K, well I'm deciding to bite off way more than I can chew and I'm writing yet another Beatle love story along with my Beatles Muse story. :) I don't know, I just love writing them, so why stop? Hope you all like it!

Chapter 2

Any Time At All

~John~

After the press conference, John doesn't even wait backstage for you. He hops right off the stage and makes his way over to you.
"Ready to go?" he asks simply.
Your head hurts, you're so confused. "Is this for real?" you ask him.
John looks confused as well. "Umm... I thought so."
"But... we don't even know each other. You just... want to go on a date with me?"
John grins. "You intrigued me. You're the first reporter I've ever heard ask a question that actually means something. Not to mention you are possibly the prettiest girl I've ever seen."
You bite your lip and smile, but don't look directly at John. The last thing you would ever want if for John Lennon to think you are like all the other fans, who would absolutely melt into a puddle of love as soon as a Beatle called your pretty.
"So, where would you like to go?" he asks, locking arms with you.
You shrug, hiding the thrill you're getting from touching him. "I'm up for anything."
"Well, how about we walk around Central Park?" he suggests. "I hear it's beautiful around Christmas time."
"Oh, it is," you assure him. "And there is an ice-skate rental, if you're into that kind of thing. I'm horrible at it, though."
He grins. "So am I. But hey, it'll be a nice excuse to hold you," he says in a joking voice, but something tells you he's serious
You smile and look away again, bright red. But just as you do, John gently touches your chin, guiding it back towards him.
You both stare at each other for a moment, eyes locked.
"You have beautiful eyes," he whispers, and you can hear nothing but the sound of his voice.
Suddenly, a bright lights flashes. It's a camera.
"This is Jane," you introduce John to the person who just snapped your picture.
Jane smiles.
John rubs his eyes, probably half-blinded.
You groan, blush again, and pull John out of the building.

~Paul~

The next day, Paul shows up fifteen minutes early.
"Forgive me, love," he says, taking your hand and kissing it when he sees you again. "I'm a little bit impatient."
You unknowingly begin twirling your hair. "It's ok."
The pitter-patter of Martha's paws comes over to you.
"There's my pup," Paul says with a smile, and gets on his knee, extends his arm and lets Martha sniff him.
"You're really good with animals," you think aloud.
Paul smiles and shrugs, rubbing the underside of Martha's chin. "Eh, I'm fine."
You shake your head, smiling. "Most people would just start patting the dog on the head."
"Well I'm obviously not as good as you, the dog obviously loves you more than anyone else," he replies.
"That's just because I feed her and walk her and what not," you say, shrugging as well. "So should we get going?"
"Sure," he responds, and leads you and the sheepdog to his car. "Ready to go for a ride, Martha?"
You slide into the passenger's seat, while Paul hops in the driver's. Martha gets comfortable in your lap.
"Martha!" you moan under the dog's massive weight, trying to push her off, but she won't budge.
Paul chuckles. "That is one lucky dog."
You grin, feeling another fluttery feeling coming over you.
The car gets going, and Martha sticks her head out the window, relieving some of the pressure on your legs.
"So, what made you want a dog?" you ask Paul, stroking Martha's back.
"My fiancée and I just broke up," he explains. "It's been pretty lonely lately, so I figured why not get another girl, one that I know won't break my heart."
You nod, knowingly. You've had your fair share of heartbreaks as well.
"So, why haven't you adopted Martha for yourself?" Paul asks. "It's clear you love her, so why not snap her up for yourself?"
You shrug, gazing up at the dog, who's tongue flaps happily in the wind. "I don't know. I guess I just figured Martha deserved more than a tiny apartment with an owner who's at work all day."
Paul nods, as though he understands. "That's actually very considerate, (your name)," he says.
You sigh. "I guess." You really don't like talking about it too much.
Before you know it, you've pulled up to Paul's HUGE mansion. He has to open a large black gate, and in gold, cursive letters on the mailbox it says, "McCartney." You feel incredibly out of place.
Almost instantly, Martha leaps out of the car and runs around in the grass. She rolls around in it. She pounces at butterflies. She chases a stick you and Paul throw. For hours, all she does is run about, filled with glee. It must be dog heaven.
"Well, it looks like she's ok here," you say, trying to hide your disappointment. You hoped Martha would hate it here, even if it WAS Paul McCartney's house.
Paul turns and stares at you for a moment, as if he's studying you, trying to figure you out.
"You know... I know absolutely nothing about training dogs. Would you... like to help me? I could pay you," he asks.
"Oh, I could never accept your money, and to be honest, I'm not much of a trainer either," you say honestly.
He gives you a half-smile. "Maybe... we could learn together?"
You're heart skips a few thousand beats. "S-sure," you stutter.
His grin grows. "Great. I'll pick you up tomorrow, same time, same place?"
You're not sure what else to say. "S-sure," you can't keep yourself from stuttering.
He gently takes your hand. "I'll have my driver take you home," he says, and leads you to where is limo is parked.
He has a driver. And a limo. Of course.
Still holding onto your hand, he helps you into the backseat of the vehicle.
"Thank you for everything," he says, and kisses your hand again. With a final smile, he quietly closes the door and the limo begins to move.
You sigh, dazed, and hold your own hand, the kissed spot still warm.
You'll never wash your hands again.

~George~

The next day, your front door slams open, and another angry George Harrison appears through.
"I can't take it anymore!" he shouts, and takes a seat next to you on the couch, where you were watching The Beatles Cartoon.
"Pattie or the Beatles?" you ask, muting the TV, even though this is your favorite episode, the Strawberry Fields Forever one.
"Pattie!" he cries. "She's a different person!"
"How so?" you ask.
"She used to be... thoughtful... and... intelligent, but these days, she's being a complete airhead!" he shouts.
"Would you like to vent your feelings to me or would you rather block them out with my favorite TV show?" you question, pointing your head towards the TV, where George and the other Beatles are running through an orphanage.
He grins. "Telly, probably," he says. "I love this show."
You grin and cuddle up closer to him as you turn up the volume. It seems when you two are watching TV is the only time you can get close to him. This time, he puts his arm around you and rest your head on his shoulder. It feels like home.
And so, you two being laughing. And laughing. And laughing. It doesn't stop when it goes to the sing-alongs. It doesn't stop during the commercials, when you two can't stop thinking about the ridiculous things that go on in that cartoon. The laughing doesn't stop until five minutes after the cartoon ends and something else comes on.
"I love those things," George says, wiping away his laughing tears.
"Me either," you agree, shifting your head from his shoulder to his lap.
"What are you doing down there?" he asks with a smile.
You shrug. "It's comfy."
He grins and leans down to kiss your cheek. But you accidentally shift your head just so, and he misses your cheeks.
And hits your lips.
He instantly pulls up, shocked. But it was amazing for the half a second it lasted. You both stare at each other for a minute, neither of you sure what to say.
And at the same exact moment, you pull each other closer and begin kissing again.

~Ringo~

The next morning, your mood is brightened. It's Saturday, which means no work, the weather is nice, which means you don't have to wear a big, bulky jacket, and Ringo Starr is going to call you.
Which is self-explanatory on why's it's so awesome. :)
Sure enough, the phone rings as you are preparing breakfast that moment. You take a deep breath and fix your hair. It's not like he can see your hair over the phone, but you need to stall a few rings so you don't seem too eager.
Even though you are.
After about three rings pass, you can wait no more. "Hello?" you answer the phone as calmly as possible.
"Did he call yet!?" Jessica cries.
You groan. "Jessie, get off the phone. Ringo might be trying to call!"
"Sorry, sorry, just checking. Make sure you set me up with George!" she calls as you hang up the phone.
"Arg," you growl, and return to the pancakes you had been making. But just as you do, the phone rings again.
"Atop calling me!" you shout at Jessie. Or so you think
"Is this (your name)?" a beautiful voice asks.
Damn.
"Yes?" you squeak.
"This is Ringo Starr," he says. "Is... everything ok?"
"Sure, I just... thought you were someone else," you explain meekly.
Ringo laughs. "I would hope so."
You grin. "Let's get down to the nitty gritty, Ringo, no small talk. What is it that you desire?"
"A direct girl, huh?" he says. "That's refreshing. I was wondering if you would like to go to the movies with me."
You cover the phone's speakers for a moment and squeal. "Eeeee!!"
Regaining your cool, you go back on the phone. "Sure, Ringo. See you at the Bresen Theater at 7 tomorrow?"
"Sounds great," Ringo says. "Oh, and (your name)?"
"Yes?" you reply, just about to hand up the phone.
You can almost hear him grinning over the phone. "I'm excited, too."
And then the line goes dead.
And you're pretty sure Ringo overheard you squealing. :)

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