Yes It Is: Chapter Five
Title: Yes It Is
Authors: pennylane_fic, jenny_wren28 & lovely_rita_mm
Starring: The Beatles 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 work of fiction.
So, dearest readers, turn off your mind, relax and join Maggie Sue on another one of her Beatle adventures.....
Previous updates located HERE!
Chapter Five
"So, how was Macca’s bachelor pad?” John asked as Maggie got in the car the next morning. Maggie smiled knowingly at him, leaning back into her seat.
“It wasn’t really furnished,” she commented. “But the bed was nice.” John chuckled at that, and looked at her smugly out the corner of his eye. Maggie rolled her eyes, clipping her seatbelt firmly in place. She couldn’t help but notice how John didn’t even bother with his and knew that he was for a rude awakening sometime in the future if he was ever caught without one. “Guess that’s all the place really needs to be nice though, huh?”
“More or less,” John grinned. With a shake of her head, Maggie turned towards the window, feeling her body sink into the soft interior of the car. Bringing her hand up to her mouth, she tried her hardest to stifle a yawn, but found that she couldn’t muster enough energy to hold it in. Eyes watering, Maggie inhaled sharply, widening her eyes hoping to wake herself up a little more.
“Tired, luv?” John asked casually, finding her slightly haggard appearance amusing. “Did I wear you out last night?”
Maggie let out a very unladylike snort. “You wish.”
“Maggie, darling, if I'd really wanted to, I could have,” he tossed at her rather matter-of-factly.
Turning to him fully, Maggie raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms in front of her in a slightly protective manner. “Oh, really?” John nodded. “So, I suppose you were just being a gentleman last night then?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” he said solemnly.
“And if I was to throw myself at you this very moment and beg you to take me right here and right now, would you still keep up that gentleman-like quality?”
She watched as the corners of his lips quirked up slightly and he pressed on the gas pedal a little harder. “It depends,” he mused.
“On?”
“Well,” John said. “Would you still respect me afterwards?”
Maggie burst out into laughter, feeling her smile widen. “No, probably not. But you’re also assuming I respect you now,” she said with a wink.
With a little sigh bleeding from his lips, John shook his head sadly. “Then it would never have worked out between us.”
“That’s a shame,” Maggie sighed teasingly. “It would have made for a good wake up call.”
John returned her sigh. “Well, if it’s to wake you up, I may be able to compromise. I mean, sometimes we all have to sacrifice for the greater good and if my virginity is what it takes…”
“Virginity.” Maggie snorted again. “Oh, please.”
John looked at her, a mock expression of hurt on his face. “What kind of man do you take me for, Miss Margaret? Do you honestly believe I am the kind of person who would go out there and offer myself to just anyone? Honestly,” he huffed. His words were quickly betrayed though as he looked her up and down, a slight leer entering his eyes. “Besides, I’m not the one that was wearing red last night, luv.”
Maggie snapped her head towards him with a slight frown becoming serious, banter forgotten. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” he grinned. “Just that I think I have a new favorite color and it’s all your fault.”
Maggie felt a blush color her cheeks almost immediately and turned away, hoping that he wouldn’t see it. Swallowing thickly, Maggie played with the hem of her shirt, feeling the air grow hot and heavy around her. “You can’t say things like that, John,” she whispered, gazing down at her lap with forced intent. “It’s fine when we’re joking, but… we can only be friends. You know…”
“So, do we live in little bubbles in the future?” John cut her off, asking the question like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Maggie looked up at him, staring at him in curiosity, knowing he was changing the subject but not understanding why this was what he was changing it too. “Uh…” she said a little hesitantly. “No.” John nodded thoughtfully. “Why do you ask?”
“Because I don’t think my cats would like that much. I just wanted to be prepared.”
“Just keep your eyes on the road,” Maggie said with a smile, shaking her head at the absurdity of his words and the fact that coming from him, it seemed so natural. “I don’t really feel like dying today.”
Cocking his head to the left, John stared at her contemplatively, purposely swerving the car a bit. “Are you suggesting I’m a bad driver?”
“You don’t get a reputation for your driving ability because you’re good unless you’re a professional racecar driver. Which you definitely aren’t.” She joked, “I know girls that are better drivers than you.”
John glared. “That’s harsh.”
Maggie shrugged. “I only speak the truth.”
Pulling into the recording studio, John turned off the car and pulled out his keys. Maggie reached for the door, ready to head inside, mentally preparing herself for some barbed comments from Paul. John caught her by the arm though, stopping her for a moment.
Turning back to him, Maggie looked at him curiously. With his head ducked down slightly, looking up through the fringe of his hair, John swallowed. “I just wanted to say thank you.”
“For what?”
Taking a deep breath, John shrugged. “For last night. For the advice that you gave me about Julian. When I went home I looked in on him and…” He stopped, feeling his throat constrict a little. “Just… thank you. I know I can’t change overnight, but I… I don’t want to be like my father. I need to be better than him. For both me and Jules.” Letting go of her arm, he leaned back in his seat again, staring out straight ahead of him. Maggie looked at him softly, studying his profile and watching as he tried to keep control of the emotions flickering through his eyes. He wanted to try; Maggie knew he was telling the truth about that. She knew that he loved the boy and knew he wanted to be a father to him, but for some reason or other, it had just never worked.
“It’s just…” he said, clearing his throat gruffly. “I don’t know how.” He looked down helplessly at his lap, his eyes searching everywhere they could, trying to rest on a safe spot and finally just settling for the dash. “I don’t even know what’s stopping me. Jules is happy when I just sit and look at the pictures he’s drawn during the day. I look at his scribbling and then hang it somewhere in the house and the boy is happy for hours. But it doesn’t seem to matter because it’s not good enough in my mind so why the hell should I even try?” Shaking his head, he swallowed. “I don’t know what he likes to do for fun, I don’t know what his favorite food is… God, Maggie. I don’t think I even know what his first words were.” A bitter smile crossed his lips at that as he hit the dashboard. “You know who would know though?”
Maggie had a feeling she already knew the answer to that question.
“It’s not even his kid and yet Paul knows more about him than I do,” John said bitterly.
Scooting closer to him, Maggie took his hand in hers. “John, you need to stop this,” she said firmly. John looked at her with a slight frown. “You need to stop comparing your relationship with Julian to Paul’s relationship with him because if you keep doing that, then Julian is going to grow up feeling as if Paul was more of his father than you were.”
“So, what am I supposed to do?” He said, hitting his hand harshly against the dashboard. “I’d say I wouldn’t let Paul even see him anymore but Jules loves him so much and I…. I can’t help but think that’d only make things worse.”
Maggie sighed. “Don’t forbid Paul from seeing your son. Don’t even worry about their relationship. John, you need to stop worrying about what everyone else does with him and start your own relationship with your son. You said he likes to draw, well then, encourage that. Draw with him. Tell him how good he is at it. Read to him, teach him how to play guitar…”
John turned to her. “Does he… does he play guitar when he grows up?”
Maggie smiled. “He even manages to put out a few records.”
The sense of pride that washed over John at that moment was palpable. A smile broke through his grim exterior, lighting up his face in an instant. Maggie squeezed his hand a little, giving him a soft look. “You see? He follows in your footsteps no matter what.”
Leaning back against the chair, John closed his eyes and sighed. “I love him,” he whispered.
“I know,” Maggie said. “You just need to make sure he knows that too.”
Looking out the window, John watched the cars drive by slowly, people peering back at them. There was a group of girls congregating at the corner of the street. In a matter of moments, they would be outside of the car, banging on the windows, and screaming in mass hysteria.
Turning back to Maggie, he nodded to her, conveying to her that he was going to try. “Come on,” he said quickly as he saw the girls begin to move towards them. “We need to get inside.” Looking towards where John’s eyes were being held, Maggie saw the girls. Without a second thought, she pushed open the car door and headed for the studio’s door, John only a few steps behind.
Walking down the studio halls, John and Maggie remained silent while John sorted through a few sheets of mail, rolling his eyes a little at one of the fan letters that the receptionist obviously thought was one of the better ones. The rest of the band was already there when they arrived; George explained to Maggie that John was always the last to show up.
Maggie smiled at him enthusiastically, “I’m just happy to be alive! I’m just surprised he’s able to make it here in one piece with his driving skills.”
George smiled. “We’re trying to get him to hire a driver.”
“Yeah,” Ringo agreed, going over and giving Maggie a little pat on the shoulder. “Hey, Paul. Do you think you two could write a driver next?” Paul only waved Ringo away, staring down at the current song he was working on instead. When Maggie looked at Ringo confused, he only smiled. “That’s what those two do,” he stated. “When they want something, they write a song to pay for it.”
“They wrote another car a few weeks back,” George said.
John came up to the three of them, his eyes remaining on Paul’s stiff form instead. “I might have to write a new bass player if this one doesn’t stop pouting,” he said. Paul turned his head towards them at that, staring at John blankly before getting up and coming over to the four of them.
“Hullo, John,” he muttered, ignoring the last comment before turning to Maggie. “I trust you slept well last night?”
Maggie nodded and tried to give him a friendly smile. “Very well. Thanks for letting me stay there. It was really very generous of you.”
Paul flashed her a grin that Maggie knew had to be false. It was too bright to be anything but. “Well, we couldn’t have you inconveniencing John’s family like that. John needs his beauty rest or he’s worthless in the morning.” The others laughed, but Maggie knew that the word “inconveniencing” was meant as something much more. Paul held eye contact with her for a moment longer before turning to the rest of the band. “Come on lads, let’s write John that driver.”
Placing his hand on her shoulder, John leaned down to whisper in Maggie’s ear. “Why don’t you go up into the recording booth, luv. Later we’ll get a bite to eat.”
Maggie smiled at him brightly, perfectly content to sit and watch the four of them for hours.
* * *
“So,” Ringo said as he poured some tea for all of them. “Are you friends with us in the future? Or is this just kind of a fluke for you?”
Maggie laughed. “I can safely say that before yesterday, I had never met you guys in my life. Not that many have. You all become hermits and live in caves in Greece.”
Ringo looked at her half-seriously, but before he could say anything, John teased, “Ah! This must be where Ritchie becomes intimately familiar with the octopus Miss Margaret mentioned, eh?” Then he proceeded to mime getting caught by an octopus and dragged into the sea.
Maggie just shook her head and chuckled at John’s antics.
George ignored John though, and turned to Maggie, quite serious, and said. “You seem to fit in easily with us, though, and that really isn’t that common, especially not these days. I would imagine that we would cling to an old friend like you. We can’t have changed that much since now.”
Ringo chimed in, “In the future, we’ll be sure to call you up so we can get together and reminisce. Or we’ll invite you to our concerts! Of course, we’ll all be old men, hobblin’ about on stage with our canes and our instruments. Can you imagine it? Sixty-year-old rock stars! How awful would that be? On second thought, Maggie luv, never mind.”
Maggie looked down into her tea. If only they knew. John and George would never make it to 60, but Paul and Ringo would still be able fill stadiums with adoring fans.
The four boys that sat before her now would soon be the same ones that ended up fighting each other out in court. They would be the ones turning against each other, the ones that would slag each other off in public, and the ones that caused more pain than necessary. In a few short years, this happy sanctuary that they had created would all come tumbling down around them and all of it would be captured through a series of pictures and television interviews. And yet somehow through it all, their friends, the Rolling Stones would still be selling out arenas as sixty-year-old rock stars.
“So, how are you going to get back?” Ringo said lightly as he set her teacup down in front of him. Paul perked up from his position in the corner of the room, turning to the conversation at hand. John also turned, his expression much different than Paul’s. “That is, assuming you’re going back.”
Maggie saw John’s expression out of the corner of her eye, watching as he turned his attention to the depths of his tea, obviously trying to keep his silence. They hadn’t really discussed yet what they were going to do about her. She couldn’t stay here, that much she knew. Her life was back in the year 2006; she didn’t belong in 1964, that was obvious. Just the general attitude towards women would be enough to ensure that. And NASA definitely wouldn’t have a job for her here. A woman scientist? Just barely possible, but not likely.
“I’m going back.” Maggie said, trying to lay it out gently enough. “I’m just not really sure how. All I know is that I… I don’t belong here.” Taking a sip of her tea, Maggie felt tension crash across the room in waves, most of it coming from John. A warm arm soon descended around her shoulder though, and as she looked up into Ringo’s blue eyes, she was met with a soft smile.
“You could belong here if you really wanted to, you know.”
She knew that the offer was heartfelt but she also knew that it wouldn’t last. There was no doubt in her mind that they liked her, particularly John, but she had read up enough about them to know that that was simply because she was new and exciting. She had popped out of thin air and managed to captivate their attention for the time being but sooner or later the novelty, this mysterious allure would wear off and they would become bored with her just like they did everyone and everything else. Even if she was guaranteed to remain part of the Beatles’ inner circle, to be one of the few that would have the privilege to be in their lives, there was still a problem.
Paul didn’t like her. That much was obvious, and as far as being accepted by the entire group, she knew that this single issue was a rather large nail in the coffin. If she stayed, things would only become complicated much sooner than need be. An indefinite stay was out of the question.
Turning to Ringo, but directing her words towards John, Maggie shook her head. “I don’t belong here,” she repeated. Sighing, John leaned against the back of her chair, clutching the warm mug between his fingers. Maggie continued, "The only problem is that I don't know how to get back home. I mean I'm not even sure how I even got here in the first place.”
“What were you doing when it happened?” George asked curiously.
Maggie shrugged. “I was fooling around while taking a tour of this studio. I just looked at a picture of John… and I kind of wished or willed myself here, or something like that. Then suddenly I wasn’t looking at a picture any longer. I was being stupid and juvenile but it somehow worked,” she finished lamely, knowing how foolish she sounded.
Coming from across the room, Paul sat down across from her, taking up his own cup of tea and looking at her intently over the rim. John remained where he was though set apart from the rest of the group, his eyes downcast to the floor.
“Why don’t you do that again,” Paul suggested. “I mean, if that’s the way you came, it only makes sense that that’s also the way you would go back.”
Maggie nearly dropped her tea as she stared at Paul with a mixture of shock and disbelief. Mentally she was kicking herself for not thinking of this herself. “I…” she started. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of that,” she mumbled to herself.
Paul smiled tightly. “You were probably just a little disoriented.” Getting up from the table, he started pacing the floor. He hummed to himself a little while both George and Ringo sat quietly at the table with Maggie and John stood still in the corner. The fact that she was going home soon weighed heavy on everybody’s minds. “When do you think you’ll be going then?” Paul asked casually, managing to keep his tone conversational.
Maggie swallowed, looking to John and seeing the resignation written in his eyes. The sooner she left, the easier it was going to be.
“Now,” she said quietly and sadly. “I should probably leave now.”
* * *
Soft good-byes were said in the studio. She and George embraced, each feeling the loss of a friend who understood the other’s obsession with guitars. On impulse, Maggie whispered some parting advice into his ear. “Remember, no smoking…and stay away from Ringo’s wife.” George started at that last bit, but recovered quickly, gave her one last squeeze and then backed away slightly puzzled. Ringo gave her a light kiss on the cheek, as he also felt the loss of a potential friend, and Maggie felt the loss of a future confidant. And Paul… well, Paul had cheerfully clapped her on the shoulder and gently nudged her towards the door, telling her that he was glad to have met her. They both knew it was a lie.
She and John slipped out of the room silently, going back to the spot they had met only twenty-four hours earlier. Both walked in silence, neither able to find the words to say to make any of this less difficult. As they stopped in front of the picture that had brought them together, both stared blankly down at the ground. With their hands thrust in their pockets, they faced each other, not able to bring their eyes up any further. They were too afraid of what they might see written in each other's eyes. Maggie knew that if she looked at him, she was very likely to lose the tiny amount of will power she had to go back home. I think I'll miss you most of all, she thought to herself, recalling Dorothy's goodbyes at the end of the Wizard of Oz. She knew how that must have felt now to leave the old friends she'd just met at the end of an improbable, but no less affecting, adventure.
Shaking her head, Maggie winced, knowing that she was going to regret her next actions. Throwing her arms around John’s neck, Maggie pulled her body to his, burying her face in his neck and stifling an unbidden sob before it could escape. His arms came up and around her, holding her tightly and tangling one hand firmly in her hair.
“I’ll never forget you,” Maggie whispered.
John laughed slightly, at a loss of what to say. Clutching her tighter, John squeezed his eyes shut. “I think I could have been happy with you,” he murmured. “We could have made this work.” Pulling away from her, John smiled, wiping the few tears that escaped her eyes with the pad of his thumb. “And as hard as I may try, I don’t think I’ll be able to forget you either. You or that lovely vision of you in that red dress last night at the party. Dressed like a little harlot, you were!” He grinned, trying to make light of the situation. Maggie bit her lip, trying to keep the rest of her tears at bay, but failing miserably.
Cupping her cheek with the palm of his hands, John leaned in, kissing her forehead sweetly, feeling his own throat cinch tightly shut. Without another word he turned on his heel and walked away, knowing he wouldn’t be able to stay and watch this girl just walk out of his life.
Closing her eyes, Maggie swallowed, taking in a few deep breaths as she tried to compose herself. Slowly, as she gained her bearings, she peeled open her lids, coming face to face with the picture that had brought her here in the first place. Focusing her eyes, she stared at it, thinking of home, of the studio she had left, of the way the city now looked and sounded. Slowly the world began to spin, colors swirling and mixing to create a world of its own. Maggie swayed on her feet gently, feeling as if she were about to fall but not able to tear her eyes away from the photograph before her. As she felt the floor shift beneath her, felt herself begin to tumble into the dark abyss, strong hands grabbed her from behind. Reality then snapped forth, the colors settling into their rightful place and Maggie felt a gasp tear through her stomach as she both hoped and dreaded that when she looked up, she would see John’s face.
But it wasn’t John. It wasn’t even someone that she knew.
“You okay, Miss?”
Maggie stared at the kindly old gentleman who had caught her as she began to tumble forward. He looked at her a little worriedly, obviously noting the dazed expression on her face. Maggie tried not to let her disappointment show as she saw him, giving him a weak but friendly smile as she nodded her head gently. Her cell phone lay on top of her purse on the floor, the walls around her seemed brighter, a fresh coat of paint gleaming across the surface, and the man that was now slowly pulling away was not John.
She was back in her own time.
“I’m fine,” she replied to him. “Just got a little dizzy. Thank you for steadying me,” she muttered. Without another word she turned from him, scooped up her purse, and walked down the hall straight towards the door.
Stepping outside, Maggie looked up towards the sky, watching as a bird flew overhead. She couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened if things had been different. Maybe if John hadn’t been married… Maggie shook her head at that, taking a deep breath and heading down the street. Thinking like that wasn’t going to help anything. Maggie knew what John’s future held and it wasn’t the sort of lifestyle she wanted to get in to. Her leaving was for the best for them all.
Stepping out on the curb, Maggie nodded once, trying her hardest to convince herself of her words but failing miserably.
************
Author's Note: Did Maggie Sue manage to save all the Beatles? Did the Beatles beleive her? Will she be able to return to her normal life after an experience like that? Will John be able to forget her? Find out all this and more next week on the next *thrilling* installment of yesitis_fic. ;)
Continue to Chapter Six
Also, time to pimp out some other stories that we like:
Standbyme_fic, penned by forsomeone & jkg_vader, an epic story about John and Paul's friendship, but set in an alternate universe where John survives his gun-shot wounds on December 8, 1980.
Junk_fic, penned by forsomeone, a story about two people falling in love, and then out of love, and then back in love (I hope!). One of them just happens happens to be Paul McCartney. I adore this story. :)
k_starkiller, penned by jenny_wren28, "Karyn Starkiller's Diary" is a parody of "Bridget Jones' Diary" only set in the Star Wars universe, so if you are a Bridget Jones, Star Wars, or Pride and Predjudice fan, then you should enjoy this one.
As always, we thank you all for all of your very lovely comments on every chapter. Thanks for sticking with us!
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http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/lovely_rita_mm