Real Love: Chapter Four
Real Love
Title: Chapter Four
Authors: lovely_rita_mm & jenny_wren28
Starring: The Beatles (specifically John Lennon) and Maggie Sue
Rating: R for language, sex, & implied drug use.
Disclaimer: We don’t own any of the Beatles, this obviously never happened, and much to the real Maggie’s disappointment, is a complete work of fiction.
Who likes the White Album? Raise your hand!
Previous updates are located HERE.
Chapter 4
Maggie sat totally enraptured, as the sound wove its spell over her, making her forget all thoughts of pregnancy announcements or teas with Beatle ex-girlfriends. Tonight was, after all, about music. Beatles music, which was one of the things she loved best in the world. Here at George’s house, she had a front seat for the creation of what fans in the future would know as the “Esher” or “Kinfauns” session, when the Beatles played over the thirty or so songs they’d written while they’d been in India.
This was not the sort of thing they’d ever done before. Individually they’d all at one time or another recorded demos to bring in to EMI to play for the others - but they’d never recorded them together as a full group. For all Maggie knew, they would never do this again, unless she could keep the band from splintering apart as it had in her time.
After a dinner, which featured a delicious, vegetarian, squash soup (and hadn’t been raw at all), everyone adjourned to George’s home studio. Maggie, Linda, Mo, and Pattie made themselves comfortable on the sofa, armchairs, and assorted cushions while the boys set up their equipment and tuned. They would futz with the technicalities of recording later; for now they would just play. Maggie watched in amazement as what was essentially a live concert of the White Album unfolded in front of her.
“Julia” sounded similar to how she’d heard it in India, but John had refined it since then. The verses still weren’t in the order she knew either. Next was Blackbird. Everyone, even John, who could be especially critical of Paul, admired his delicate, solo rendition. “Back in the USSR” rocked but lacked a final verse. Maggie waited almost curiously to see if Paul would grab Ringo’s sticks and shove him off his throne, but no, he played his bass peacefully, leaving Ringo to handle the drumming. Maggie wondered who would play drums on the final cut.
Pattie clapped her hands when the band launched into “Wild Honey Pie” and she leaped up, pulling Maggie with her. The two of them danced around and sang the few lyrics to each other. The song had been a favorite camp-fire singalong song of Pattie’s in India. Maggie had never liked it on the White Album, but she’d come around to it because it had such good memories attached to it now. The other “Honey Pie” song, Maggie loved, though she could tell John was trying not to roll his eyes. She sang along to that one too, making Paul grin.
Song by song, the White Album came alive: Mother Nature’s Son, Ob-La-Di Ob-La-Da, Dear Prudence, Sexy Sadie (with any mention of the Maharishi long since written out), Cry Baby Cry. The whole group, girls included, contributed animal noises to Bungalow Bill. “The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill,” John corrected, making her laugh about his continuing fixation with his own (lengthy) song titles. “Everybody’s Got Something to Hide Except for Me and My Monkey” (“Can we please just call this one “Me and My Monkey?” Maggie teased John) segued into “I’m So Tired”, a song about Paul’s indecision about Linda, and not John’s indecision about Yoko.
“Revolution” was first played slowly, and then after a whispered hint to John, the band really ripped through the song. John’s wail of “all right” had Maggie jumping up and down and applauding and encouraging the other girls and yell and shriek for their Beatles like it was 1964 again.
After they all calmed down, George started gently picking the opening to “While My Guitar Gently Weeps” and Maggie sat in rapt attention. She still loved this acoustic version as much as she loved the final version with Clapton’s riffs on it. She was so moved by the performance that she had to furtively wipe a few tears away. George caught her and gave her a lopsided grin. Then to make her smile he launched into a silly version of “Piggies”, which his bandmates latched on to right away.
The Beatles were clearly still a band and though they hadn’t played most of these songs together before (or at least not since India), they retained their musical shorthand, started in Hamburg and developed in the years since. It allowed them to easily follow chord changes and see where the song was going to go. It warmed Maggie’s heart and gave her hope that the band might not be falling apart after all. What had one author called the White Album? The sound of a band decomposing? Perhaps this time it would be the band coming together.
Then there were the songs that might or might not end up as Beatles tracks. Maggie knew the slightly wistful-sounding “Junk” from Paul’s first solo album. She liked that song and hoped that it would end up being a Beatles track instead. Then one she didn’t love as much, “What’s the New Mary Jane”, and of course, several of George’s that Paul and John would likely ignore, “Not Guilty”, “Sour Milk Sea”, and “Circles”.
The night stretched on, but went by in a flash.
After the band was finished running through the songs, working them out as they went, they settled down to the work of recording demo tracks for use later in the studio. Maureen went to call the sitter to see how the kids were, and Pattie busied herself in the kitchen, leaving Linda and Maggie to settle down in the living room.
“Would you like some wine?” Linda offered. There were still a number of uncorked bottles left over from dinner.
“No, thanks,” Maggie said, remembering she was pregnant. “And actually, you shouldn’t have any either.”
“Why’s that?”
“It’s not good for the baby,” she said.
“Says who?” Linda laughed.
“The surgeon general. And cigarette smoke is bad too.”
“Since when? And wait, what do you mean, have any either?” Linda was finally realizing the significance of Maggie’s refusal of the wine.
“That’s right,” Maggie said. She’d been dying to tell Linda, and she couldn’t hold it in any longer. “I’m pregnant too!”
“You’re what? Oh my God!” Linda gave Maggie a big hug. “We’re both pregnant! Our kids are going to be best friends! Or maybe we’ll have a boy and a girl and they’ll get married and…”
“Oh my God, wouldn’t that be great!!” Maggie couldn’t help catching Linda’s enthusiasm.
“What are you both screaming about?” Pattie asked. She’d finished up the dishes, and had come over to pour herself a glass of wine.
“Should we tell?” Linda asked Maggie.
“Sure,” Maggie said, instantly feeling bad for Pattie, who would never have the children she wanted. There was no point in hiding what was going to be obvious soon enough.
“We’re both pregnant!” Linda exclaimed.
“Oh! OH!” said Pattie, who gave them both excited hugs, completely masking any sadness on her own part.
“What are you three on about?” Maureen asked as she came into the kitchen.
“Maggie and Linda are both expecting,” Pattie smiled.
“Really? Well, congratulations, both of you!” she said, and she exchanged hugs with both women too. She was still cool towards Maggie, which made Maggie’s conscience twinge. She needed to settle things with Maureen. This antagonism had gone on long enough. Maureen had done some not-so-nice things to Maggie, but then Maggie had helped fuel the unpleasantness. The problem was, Maggie didn’t have a clue what to say to fix things. Nor did Maggie want to say the wrong thing and make everything worse. Or make Mo think she was just plain crazy. After all, one of the inherent dangers of being a time traveler was saying too much.
~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N
Will Maggie and Mo make-up? Will Maggie admit she's a time traveler? Will Linda and Maggie's kids grow up and get married and live happily ever after? Ok, that last question won't be answered in this fic, but hey, that gives us an idea... ;-)
We'd also like to say Happy 71st birthday to John!
Continue to Chapter Five
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