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 3

I Want To Hold Your Hand


"Are you sure you want to do this?" you ask, sitting beside John a a bench, lacing up your skates, silently painicking. WHY did you sggest this? You can't skate two feet in front of you!
"Sure," he says, doing the same. (Lacing, not panicking, although you can't tell) "I'll skate circles around you, (your name)."
You laugh. "I thought you said you were no good."
"I'm not," he replies. "But I learn quick."
You raise an eyebrow and gave him a Look, but he didn't see as he quickly jumped up and onto the ice. But even quicker he plummitted back to the ground.
You burst into laughter, not fearing hurting his feelings, knowing his ego's way too big for that.
John shakes the falling snow out of his hair and can't help but laugh at himself, too. "Why don't you try, if you're so good, ice princess?" he challenges.
"You're gonna knock me over," you respond, staying glued to the bench.
"I promise I wont," he swears, crossing his heart.
With a sigh, you slowly, slowly, stand up and move your legs. Your skates slowly slide across the light blue ice. You're not steady, but you definetly did not fall.
"Hah!" you cry, triumpet, still awkwardly sliding. And then, hold out your hand to John.
"Need help up?" you ask with a teasing smile.
He grins mischeviously. "I thought you were smart," he says.
"What do you-"
But instead of listening, John takes your hand, and pulls with all his force. It's not long before you fall from the ice and onto John.
He's laughing hysterically, and you're doing the same. "You jerk!" you cry, still laughing. "You promised you wouldn't-"
"I promised I wouldn't KNOCK you over," he corrects. "I said nothing about pulling."
You toss snow at him, knowing he's got you there. "You're not scoring any points, in case you were wondering," you tease.
He shrugs, grinning. "It's early," he replies, and sticks out his hand towards you.
You raise your eyebrows again, confused.
"Do you trust me?" he asks.
"No," you respond, still joking. "You just pulled me onto the ice, what do you think?"
His face, however, is incredibly serious. "Do you, really?"
You're not quite sure how to respond. "Maybe. Why?"
"Let's stand up," he answers.
You laugh out loud, even though John is still serious. "Hah!" you cry. "I think that's beyond both our skills."
He grins, but is still detirmined. "I'm the kind of guy who jumps in headfirst."
That intruiges you. "Fine then," you reply. and take his hand. Slowly, slowly, slowly you two lift your legs upward, gripping onto each other. You both know if either of you screw up in the slightest, you'll both tumble back to your doom.
And then, you make it.
Neither of you believe you have acutally stood up without falling for the first three seconds. But when you finally realize it, you look up to John, who is grinning at you.
"Way to go," he says, looking giddy.
You can only smile.
He looks away for a moment, as though he's trying to hide something. When he turns back, the first thing he stares at is your lips.
"Would you mind terribly I was to..."
But you go ahead and do it for him. :)


Paul does pick you up the next morning, Martha in the backseat with no chance of her crushing your legs once again.
"Morning," you greet, sliding in the front seat.
Paul's eyes look tired, but they seemed to light up when he sees you. "Morning," he repeats, grinning, as you take your seat.
"How was Martha?" you ask, stroking the dog, who looks very happy to see you as she licks your ear.
He he sighs, and his tired eyes look over at you. "Do you want the truth?"
You raise your eyebrow. "Maybe..." you say cautionetly.
He shook his head, smiling, as though he thought the irony was funny. "She howled. ALL night. I think she really missed you."
You bite your lip and rub the dog harder, happy to know she still loves you, but upset that Paul had to deal with it.
"I'm sorry," you apologize.
He sheaks his head again. "Not your fault you're so appealing."
You look away, ready to squeal. Normally you have to listen to Beatles songs to hear words like these from Paul. But today, they're in person.
When you arrive, Martha once again jumps from the car and begins frolicking about the yard as though she's a new puppy who's never been outside.
"She certainly doesn't look upset," you comment, standing beside Paul.
"She wasn't until about an hour after you left. I think she realized then that you were gone," Paul replied, eyes fixed on his dog. "I understand her pain."
You whip your head over to Paul, who's still not focusing on you. You're so confused. Is he flirting with you,or isn't he?? Ah, forget it. He's Paul McCartney. He could have any girl in the WORLD, why would he-
"You're beautiful," he interrupts your thoughts, and you snap out of it.
"I'm what??"
His face is bright red, and you feel the same grade school feelings you felt when you discover someone likes you. "I..."
You grin and bite your lip, feeling yourself turn red as well.
"I'm so sorry," Paul apologizes, yet he can still look in your eyes. "I just... I don't usually just blurt my thoughts..."
"You were thinking that?" you ask him, feeling fifteen different kinds of flattered.
He slaps his palm to his face, but nods behind it. "Yes," he admits, and you swear you see the tiniest trace of a smile.
You grin again, and take a step closer to him with newfound confidence. "Maybe I've felt the same way."
He takes his hand of his head, slowly, as though he's afraid of being tricked. "Really?" he asks.
Still smiling, you slide your hand into his. "May-be," you answer in a sing-songy voice.
He grins as well and squeezes your hand. "Would you mind if I did this?"
"Did wha-"
And then, Mr. James Paul McCartney leans in a kisses you.


After a few more kisses, George pulls up and instantly apologizes.
"I'm so sorry, (your name)!" he cries, unable to look yo until the eye, his face ridden with guilt.
But you aren't, and you long to kiss him again, already missing his lips. "It's ok, George, believe me."
He shakes his head. "No, it's not. I'm a married man."
You HATE it when he says that. "But I'm single," you remind him.
He chuckles, and it makes you happy to see him smile, even if you were dead serious.
"Do you want to know the truth, George?" you ask, staring at his eyes, but they're staring at the floor.
He looks up. "I didn't know there were lies."
"George..." you begin, ignoring his comment. "I... I don't think Pattie is right for you."
"You're telling me," he moans, leaning back on the couch.
"I think I'm right for you," you whisper.
His head whips around to look at you. There's no use in saying, "What?" because there's no way he didn't hear you. There's complete silence for much too long.
"You?" he finally squeaks.
You nod your head slowly, heart pounding, terrified of his response.
He swallows for no apparent reason. "I... I don't know... what to say," he replies.
You look away, not sure what to say either.
"I... I think I agree," he whispers.
It's your turn to whip your head over to him, not believing what you are hearing. "R-really?" you stutter, eyes locked into his.
He nods slowly, just as you did.
Again, silence settles you two. Nobody's quite sure what to say.
"So... are we... are we going to?" he whispers. "Be together?"
You struggle for words. "I would love to but... you're married, George."
He takes a deep breath. "She wouldn't have to know."
This idea excites and frightens you. You like Pattie, but the very thought of being with George is enough to make you willing to join the Vietnam war.
"What do you say?" he asks.
What is there to say?


Ringo is waiting for you at the theater, just as he said he would. For whatever reason, they way he's all bundled up in his coat makes you find him all the more adorable and attractive. :)
"(Your name)," he greets, and kisses you on the cheek.
Unintentionally, you touch the same cheek, grinning. He smiles, too.
"I didn't know the British were so affectionate," you say, linking arms and walking into the Bresen with him.
"Normally, we aren't. It's only when we're with someone we REALLY like," he says with a wink.
You brush your bangs out of the way, smiling and blushing. "You're quite the charmer," you tell him.
He shrugs. "I suppose it's a gift," he says, and makes his way up to the ticket counter.
"What would you like to see?" he asks, looking up at the selection.
"Help," you say with a cheesy smile. He groans, but agrees.
"Alright," he responds. "Only for you."
Smiling, you lead him up to the counter, where a woman is working. When she notices it's Ringo Starr, her eyes light up.
"Hello," she greets, flashing a toothy smile and batting her brown eyes.
You instantly feel yourself get angry with the woman. What does she think you're doing with Ringo Starr? It's pretty obvious you two are on a date.
Ring does not appear to notice. "Two for Help!." he says.
She nods and prints out the tickets as she take Ringo's money. "You were fantastic in the movie, Mr. Starr," she tells him.
"Thanks," he half-heartedly replies.
You give her a big smile. "We figured it would be a good first date movie," you tell her.
The woman's face instantly drops. "Oh," she mutters flatly. "Well, enjoy the show, I suppose."
You and Ringo take your tickets, grab a bucket of popcorn and slide into the showing room.
"I didn't know you where the jealous type," he told you, settling in his seat,
You shrug as he did, not saying anything else.
After a few pointless previews, a group of indian people appear on screen. It appears they're doing some sort of... ritual.
"Is this the wrong movie?" you whisper to him.
He smiles and shakes his head. "Wait for it," he whispers.
After a few more minutes the Beatles come on screen, singing the song Help! All dressed in black turtlenecks, John leads the song with his vocals while Paul and George back him up and your date simply smiles, laughs and bangs on the drums.
"You look ridiculous, Paul," you hear a whisper behind you. Normally, it annoys you when loud teenagers whisper things during movies, but those voices did not sound like teenagers.
"I could say the same to you, too, John," another voice replies.
"Quiet down, you two, they'll hear us!" a third whisper-yells, and you turn around.
Staring at you is three-wide eyed men.
You turn around and tap Ringo's shoulder. "Ring, is... that the Beatles?"
He gives you a confused look. "Um... yes, love, this is a Beatles movie."
"No, no," you whisper, and point behind you.
Ringo turns his head and looks in the direction you pointed to. After about three seconds of staring, Ringo turns away and groans.
"Damn," he mutters, rubbing his temples.

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