And I Love Her

by MagicalMysteryGirl23

I go back in time and I meet The Beatles, are Paul and I falling for each other? And is George going to interfere? Read to find out! Not ATU

I saw something along the sidewalk. It gleamed brightly among the lush green jungle of grass. My hand reached forward and lifted it from the earth. I recognized this item as a timepiece. It was merely a useless wristwatch. I thought I would keep it. It looked old; it might be worth something someday. I put the watch into one of my grocery bags and continued on.

When I'd gotten home, I dug it out of one of the bags and set my newfound item on the table. Tick, tick, tick, I heard.

I examined it and realized that it was actually a pretty neat little watch. It reminded me a lot of The Big Ben in England for some reason. Although I have never been to England, I have a strange fascination with the country. Probably because of all the musical influences it has.

I took the watch into my bedroom, then I fastened it to my wrist. I heard it ticking slower and slower. The steady tick, tick, tick had turned into tick… Tick… Tick. As I went to bed I thought What a piece of junk, it sounded broken because it wasn't ticking at regular intervals. I wondered if I should attempt to fix it. I thought about where it might have came from. People's watches do not just fall off unnoticed. Or not this one…

The sun poured out of the window like a hose of yellow light. Morning birds sang somewhere in the distance. As I opened my eyes I realized rather quickly that I was not in my own room. The green room with the flowered bed sheets was gone. Replaced. Replaced with a flowery wallpaper, hardwood floors, and white sheets. I looked around furthermore.

There, where my television might have been, was an old record player. I flew my sheets off and explored the room. I examined the flowery wallpaper, admiring the intricate detail of the bright pink roses on the yellow wall. I fooled around with the record player. How exactly does this thing work? I examined the walls one more time. I noticed that there was a calendar. I gazed at it very briefly. Then went back to fiddling with the record player. Wait, Why is there record player? Nothing seems very modern. I ran back over to the calendar. I read the large print. I stopped to stare, making sure that it was not just an illusion. Yes, I was definitely reading the year 1966.

Stunned and shocked, I backed away from the calendar. I was confused, and baffled. I was in this strange unfamiliar room, I did not even know what time it was, or even if I was in America anymore. I drew the curtains and I noticed I was not in my hometown either. It seemed I was in a different country. Then it hit me. Oh no, could it be? Was the watch supposed to look like Big Ben? Was it a coincidence? I had developed a notion right then, that I was in London, England. However, I had second thoughts, as a normal human being should have. I could be in an old abandoned house and this could be an old calendar.

I had found a mirror on the west wall, and I peered into it and what reflected back was me in this dress that I'd never seen before in my life. The watch went nicely with it though. Just regular twenty-three year old me. It was a rather attractive pink-lavender dress, pavender, and there were pockets with white lace at the bottom. It looked like one of those old fashioned 1960's dresses. The shock was so outrageous that I had to sit down on the bed to process things. One million thoughts ran through my head. Then, of all things, I thought, Maybe I can go to a Beatles concert! That means that right now George and John are still alive! I got very excited.

I looked on the dresser again; this time there was a wallet. It was just lying there. I do not remember seeing it there when I surveyed the room. I took the wallet and slid it into my dress pocket. Strange… I thought.

Tick, tick, tick, as I meandered into town to find a small coffee shop and purchased a sandwich. Tick, tick, tick as I lost my way back to the house. Tick, tick, tick as I finally found it. Tick, tick, tick, I was bored. Tick, tick, tick, I was still bored. I had an idea. I had not quite figured out how to work the record player. I put one of the Beatles records on and I looked for a button to make it play. Wait, the records, where had they come from? They were not on the table before. I was very frightened. Was I going to be here the rest of my life with random things appearing at just the right time? Would I ever have my life back again?

I put the album in and fiddled around with it until I got it to play, trying not to think about how long I was going to be there. Finally, I heard my favorite mixture of instruments and I forgot about all my worries. Guitar, bass, drums, rhythm guitar, and the vocals of Paul McCartney. I listened to that record for hours, replaying it about three times. I got up to replay it once more, then I sat back down and fell sound asleep. It was dark now; I had spent all afternoon listening to the record.

I awoke again. However, I awoke in my own room. Phew! I am so glad that was a dream! I was not wearing that pink dress and I was not in that strange room. However, I still had the watch and… Oh, what is this in my pocket? The English money! I became scared. I snapped the watch off, threw it in my drawer, buried it under the scattered papers and folders, and slammed the drawer shut. I tried not to think about it. I went for a walk. Ok, so I was in a strange room, I was surrounded by strange things, and the year was apparently 1966. I know I like the Beatles, maybe… Just maybe… the watch knows too. Is this watch like hocus-pocus magic stuff? Reads your mind? Can I only go to 1966 once? Is it just a one-time thing? This is ridiculous! You know what? I am just going to leave it in there until I cannot bare to use it again. I thought about many things during that walk. Maybe when I went to 1966 the present pauses. Maybe 1966 will pause for me in the present. I will never know until I try it again.

If I went to the 60's, would I stay for a week in the 60's and then stay for a week in present? How would that work? I suppose it would depend how homesick I got. As I strolled down the street, enjoying the Saturday afternoon, I thought about quite a bit. It was beginning to start a headache. I went home and decided I will stay at least a week.

Just think, it would be somewhat like having two weekends, once I got back from the 60's weekend, it would still be Saturday when I woke up again! Exciting!

That night I rummaged through my drawer until I found that watch. I looked at the watch. It was funny how such a tiny object could take me on such big adventures. So I put the watch on my dresser. Making sure not to wear it to bed. I would not want that. I turned on my boom box, I set "The White Album (2009 Stereo Remaster)," in and listened to that as I dozed off.

Tuesday morning, 7:00. Time to go to work. I kept quiet about my incident at work. Because if I did say anything, I would probably end up as a patient in a mental hospital rather than working as a nurse. Nothing interesting happened at work that day. Usually nothing ever does. When I got home I took a bike ride around town because I was bored. Then I went home and made myself dinner, read a little, watched a few show's on TV, and went to bed.

Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday same thing. Curiosity was starting to get the better of me on Friday, so I decided that I was going to use my watch. I did not know how long I would be gone, but as I said, I think it will pause the present and I will be in 1966. So off to bed. I snapped the watch to my wrist. I was ready for my journey back to 1966. I had thought about how cool it would be to meet the Beatles but the chances of that happening were a million to one. Oh well, I suppose you never know, do you? I heard the watch, tick… Tick… Tick… I waited for morning. Excited. I finally dozed off.

Early Saturday morning, I opened my eyes and there I was, as expected. It didn't come as such a shock to me this time. I was back in 1966. London, England. I was yet again wearing my pavender dress with the pockets. I had the English money on my dresser. I was counting it. There was a lot. I had plenty. I went to the nearest coffee shop. "Venti caramel macchiato," I said. "Err…. We don't serve that here dearie," a sudden flash of reality, I am not in a modern Starbucks, I am in 1966! "Err, I meant to say a sandwich," the woman behind the counter raised an eyebrow as if to say, "You're crazy! How could you confuse a sandwich with that thing?" but she didn't say anything, she just shrugged and handed me a turkey sandwich from the table behind her. I heard the door open. I was surprised I heard it over the many people talking. There were four men by the door; it was funny though, because they all looked as if they were wearing false facial hair. I went through a little hall in hopes of finding a place to sit. I thought it was the non-smoking section. But there was nobody in there. And oddly there was only one table. Peace and quiet. I thought. I ripped off the wrap of the sandwich and I set it on top so there would not be crumbs all over. I did not eat it though. Just left it there and stared at it. I looked on the table and I saw a sign but I didn't read it because apparently I was rather busy staring at my sandwich.

I remembered the four men at the door, while I was staring into space, wondering if they found a seat yet, I remembered they looked familiar even with their phony mustaches. I noticed footsteps towards my table. I heard a voice say. "Excuse me, madam? Can me and me mates sit here?" I tuned back into the real world but kept looking forward. I don't know why, I just did. Wait, whoa, I was in the private section, not the non-smoking section of the coffee shop. It's 1966, there's no such thing as a non-smoking section! Why was I here? How had I not noticed?

"Erm...Sure," I replied.

The men started piling into the booth. Once everyone got situated, I looked at whom I let sit with me. Who was sitting in front of me? Well, it was none other than Paul McCartney. Sitting to his left John Lennon. Sitting to my right was Ringo Starr/ Richard Starkey. To his right was George Harrison practically falling off the edge of the booth, due to there was hardly any room. I saw them all take off the false mustaches and I knew for sure. My mind went blank. All emotions shut down. I had become unconscious.

I opened one eye and quickly shut it. Pretending to be fainted, from what I saw quickly with that one glance. I could tell I was not in that coffee shop anymore. While I laid there, I tried to analyze what I just saw, but there is nothing much to analyze when all you saw was a ceiling for a split second. Twenty minutes later I heard someone say,

"Ey! Look I think she moved!" said who I thought was Ringo. Gee, all I did was twitch my foot so he must have really been staring me down! Then I heard hurried footsteps coming closer towards what I thought were towards my… bed? "You think she's awake?" said who I thought was Paul. I opened my eyes. I was staring right into the face of Paul. He was practically within kissing distance. He was that close. He scared me. His face was just there. "She's awake!" said George.

"Obviously," said Paul playfully. I giggled.

"Err, before you went out we didn't catch your name," muttered John.

"My… my… name?"

"Yes, your name," said George.

"My name is Reilly," I said.

"How old are you, Reilly?" asked Paul.

"I'm… twenty-two" I actually had to think about it for a second. I was just that out of it.

"Where do you live?"

"I honestly don't remember," I said somewhat embarrassed.

That was enough. I did not have to say anymore. I could tell in their eyes that they meant to say 'rest.' John showed me upstairs to where I was to sleep for the night. I had figured that they would have just put me out on the streets and let me wander London for a while, but they didn't, I was rather surprised. Why did they bring me here? They could have left me there, I'm sure I wasn't the first fan they'd seen faint over them.

I snoozed all afternoon. When I woke up, I lied in my bed and I thought about how they could have just left me passed out on the table at the coffee shop or dumped me off at a hospital somewhere. I mean, that's what I would have done. I was waiting, waiting, waiting for something to happen. I got up to roam around. My room was really quite nice. It was yellow. It had hardwood floors too. One of them must have heard me. George walked in. I did not care for George in the present.

"Come downstairs," he instructed. I obeyed and walked down stairs. There was the band sitting on a two ratty, blue couches. The room was a light blue that reminded you of the sky. Moreover, there was a shag carpet on the floor, which was also blue. The room was kind of foggy with smoke like somebody just had a cigarette... or two... or three. I coughed because I hate the smell of smoke.

"How are you feeling?" asked Paul seeming concerned.

"I feel fine, the rest helped," with a cough. I waved my hand to and fro as to get rid of the smell.

"Good,"

"Sit," he added while patting the couch seat.

I walked over and sat next to Paul. It was awesome to sit next to him. Paul was my favorite Beatle in the present and he seems very sweet. I found myself almost blushing. I looked at George who was sitting across from me. George winked at me. Impulsively, I curled a disgusted look on my face. Then looked at Paul, he winked. I smiled. I looked back at George and he wore a look of pure green jealousy.

"Want a smoke?" asked Ringo.

"No thanks, I don't smoke. I think it's a nasty habit." He just shrugged and put the pack away in his jacket pocket. I hope that didn't upset him. Even though it was the truth.

Then they played a few songs and I listened. One of them being the song "Nowhere man" I sang along "He's a real nowhere man, sitting in his nowhere land, making all his nowhere plans for nobody."

"Say, how did you know all the words?"

"I guessed?" I said.

"Are you sure?" asked John and Ringo in unison. I nodded slowly. Then they nodded approving.

They played a few songs for the album "Revolver" that they were working on at the time. They played the songs and I sat and listened. Listening, listening, listening, I did hum along because I was familiar with all the songs on "Revolver." I couldn't sing otherwise that would be too conspicuous. They played a few like "Eleanor Rigby", "I'm only Sleeping", "Yellow Submarine", and "For No One". There were songs missing but I figured they hadn't been written yet. It was hard not to sing along because I knew all of the words.

"I think we ought to get to know you," said John

"I agree," said Ringo

"Why?" I asked. Wow what a stupid question.

"Well if you're going to live with us for a while until you get back on your feet don't you think we should know a little more about you?" said John.

"You're going to take me in?"

"I guess you could say that," he replied

"So where are you from, originally I mean," asked Ringo.

"I am from America originally,"

"Well, that's interesting," said George.

"Yes, yes it is,"

"What's your profession?"

"I'm a nurse," I said sleepily. I yawned.

"You still seem pretty tired,"

"No not at all," I said as yawning. Paul raised an eyebrow.

"Why don't you go rest?"

Yawn, I was surprised of my repetitious yawning. Therefore, I trotted myself up the stairs with my little pavender dress upstairs. I slept like a rock! I did not think I was that tired.

I woke up to something, or rather someone, poking me.

"Stop,"

"Quit,"

"Stop!"

"Cut it out!"

"STOP POKING ME!"

He stopped. "Wake up!" I heard Ringo say. I practically growled at him.

"Five more minutes, please!?"

"No! Now!"

"What are you? My mother?" Then, unexpectedly, Ringo completely rolled me off the bed.

As I pushed the blanket that fell with me off of the bed, laughing, I got up to see why he wanted me to get up so badly. I looked around nothing special. I looked downstairs. All I saw was Ringo, John, and George sitting on the ratty couches.

"Err… Where's Paul?"

"He is upstairs," said John.

"Doing what?" I asked John. He shrugged.

"I reckon he's sleeping," said George.

I was going to go wake him up. I went up the stairs and opened the big wooden door leading to his room. I entered. I felt as if I were trespassing on a king's domain. A snoring king's domain. Paul snores?! I tried to keep from giggling. I was thinking how to wake him up. I was for certain I would not use the same methods Ringo thought were sufficient to get me out of bed. Should I shake him, poke him, say his name a few times? I did not actually know. I heard mumbling and it somewhat startled me. Ha! Paul slept talked! I don't know why, but I lost it and started laughing hysterically. Once I have started laughing I cannot stop until it does not seem funny anymore. Unfortunately, instead of staring at him for a while (which is what I was going to do) he woke to the rather noisy sound of my uncontrollable laughter.

"Hi, Paul," I said laughing so hard that he gave me a look as if to say, Why you are laughing?

"You were snoring and sleep talking," I said through giggles. Paul's face became as red as a tomato. Then I thought Aww, he is embarrassed!

"Come on, the fellas down stairs want you," with a slight giggle.

"Oh yes! We are going to record…um… Good Day Sunshine!"

He slapped his forehead. Blew it totally blew it! He thought. I looked at him. Why in the world did he just slap his own face? Who knows? I walked down stairs. I heard Paul. He had just fallen down the stairs. My child instinct was to laugh (some more) but I did not. I ran back over to the stairs. "Paul? Are you ok!" I asked concerned.

"I am-" He was cut off due to he gagged. All I saw was him running back up the stairs. I walked back into the room where the rest of the boys were and simply said.

"I don't really think Paul is going to record today," They got the picture. I noticed that everywhere was just so noisy. I got up and walked to the door. I opened it and peered outside and…"AHHHHHH!"

There was a medium sized crowd around the house. I heard cameras snapping and people running towards me and there were people with signs like… "Kiss Me John," "Call Me 1815-555-6789" I screamed and ran inside. I had to fight to force the door shut. Oh my god. I walked away and the people started to open the door but I ran back over there and forced it shut a second time and then locked the door. "Phew." I whispered to myself. I walked back down the hall and into the room where the boys were. "Paparazzi, eh?" said Ringo. I nodded. I was worried about Paul up there all by himself, vomiting, no doubt. I sat with the boys on the couch. Being mobbed was rather new to me. "Why aren't there any guards?"

"They don't work on Sunday," noted Ringo.

Why in the hell didn't they work on Sunday? It is the fricking Beatles for crying aloud.

"Well, we can't record Good Day Sunshine without Paul's voice so just sit back and enjoy yourself," said George.

"I'd suggest we go outside but that's a rather cruddy idea, eh?" said Ringo

"Considering we would get mobbed, yes that is a bloody awful idea," said John. So we sat there. Meanwhile upstairs. Paul was, well, a little sick. He lay on the bathroom floor. He sat there and wondered if he should even bother to go downstairs. He was so humiliated. Bloody hell! Nice move Paul, almost barfed all over her feet, great way to get to know a girl. He weighed his options. Go downstairs and get picked on by the boys, or go upstairs and rest. He chose to rest. After all, he had just threw up. Paul slept like a baby for three hours. I was in his room most of the time watching him sleep and checking on him as if he were my son. I saw him wake up. The first thing he did was feel his forehead. It was hot as if someone had set a bonfire atop of his head. "Fever?"

"Quite possibly," he said. I nodded. Being a nurse, I just knew somehow. I fumbled to the bathroom and found a washcloth. I didn't know where anything was so I just looked in all the drawers until I found one. I figured this would work for the time being. I then wet it with cold water and returned to the room where Paul was. I sat down on the edge of the bed. "Here you go, hon," I folded the cloth in three and placed it on his burning forehead. George walked in as I was placing it on him. Envy was written all over his face. "That feels better."

"What in the hell?" George said quietly.

"I'm putting a cold washcloth on his head, he's got a fever," It was as if George did not believe me so he walked towards the bed and he pulled the washcloth off. "What are you doing? I said. He smelled it and flopped it back on Paul's forehead. I thought that was rude so I straightened it. "Ok? Fine don't answer me then,"

"We should have never brought you home from that stupid coffee shop," he muttered as he slammed the door. Wow! What is George's problem? "You see he's the type that fights over a pretty girl such as yourself, and as you can tell he is insanely jealous of your being by me most of the time," He called me a pretty girl!

"Oh, that type,"

"Yes, that type"

"So he is rather competitive with you?"

"Yes, very indeed, sometimes it's a bit annoying"

I weighed my odds; what girl in her right mind would really like George? He looked like some sort of primate monkey type thing, but yet again, everyone is entitled to there own opinion. (Anyone who likes primate monkey guy, I am sorry, but it's just my opinion) Come to think of it all of us are primate monkey type things, after all science says we descended from monkeys…

"Did you happen to hear what George said as he walked out?" Paul had heard exactly what he said as he left but he did not want me to know so he simply said, "I didn't." I nodded. "Didn't George and you use to be best buddies?"

"We still are."

"Then why does he act like that?" Paul shrugged. I had already asked him way too many questions so I backed off and went out of the room. Before I opened the door, I turned and said, "If you need anything, anything at all, just yell," he did not nod or respond in any way. He just kept staring at the wall. I did not want to go downstairs and deal with old' cranky pants. Therefore, like the doofus I am, I sat outside the door. I saw Ringo come up stairs.

"Why are you on the floor?" he asked. I looked up from my feet and replied, "Because I am waiting for something to happen, why are you upstairs?"

"This is me house isn't it?"

He headed toward the bathroom. Oh no! Who was to come up the stairs but George? Oh, shit! He looked at me and gave me an ugly smirk. "What?" I said. "You know what," he said. "No need to be so hostile," I said. "Bah!" Right then I realized how big of a fool I must look sitting there in my pavender dress practically guarding Paul's door like a dog. I decided to go down stairs. I sat on the couch. I sat there for a while. I sat there so long, I had not even noticed that John was sitting on the couch opposite of me staring at me. I sat on one couch he sat on the other. "Is there any good reason why you are staring at me?" John did not answer he just kept staring. I followed his gaze to where he was staring. Oh my... I looked down and immediately crossed my legs fixed my dress to where it was down over my knees. He stopped staring.. The only ones that eyed me all the time were George and John. Ringo really did not have much interest at all.

We all sat down on the furniture. After about fifteen minutes, I could sense that everyone had became bored, they couldn't go anywhere, they couldn't record anything, so they didn't really have anything else to do. I had asked if they wanted to play poker or something, but nobody seemed to like that idea either. Then finally an idea… "Shall we all go up and check on Paul?" suggested Ringo.

"Yes,"

"Yes, yes, I suppose we should check on the old bloke,"

We all trotted up the stairs me in the lead. George seemed a little upset about me being in front, but what isn't he upset about. Paul was turned over on his left side, snoring. (Again) I would have laughed, but if I was to really think about it…it's not really that funny. In addition, no one else laughed, so I sealed my mouth. We all gathered around Paul's bed, like a basketball team at halftime. We waited for fifteen minutes or so, but he had not awoken.

After we checked on Paul, we all went downstairs. One Beatle was unaccounted for, but the drummer had soon returned after about four or five minutes. We all became bored, and the boys watched their television while I went up stairs. I went up to find that my watch was gone! Oh my god, where is it! I thought. Where was the watch? I frantically looked everywhere. Under the bed, on the nightstand, on top of the dresser, on top of the record player, and under the bed sheets. Where is it! I calmed down; it was not a big deal. . . . Who am I kidding? It is a huge deal! If I didn't have the watch, how was I supposed to get home? I decided I would look for it tomorrow.

Therefore, I changed into my white night gown that was in the fine wooden dresser. (Of course rather oddly appearing) I lay in bed. I was still confused why the watch was gone, and why everything just appears magically. I heard the door creak, I closed my eyes and pretended to be asleep, then footsteps towards my bed, I felt a finger brush my stray bangs behind my ears also I felt the shift of my blankets over my shoulders then I heard someone say "Goodnight," Then all of a sudden I heard the door open and slam shut then more footsteps. I heard fighting. I could not make most of it out. Then I got out of bed. I opened the door slightly. Nobody was there but I could still hear the shouting. I put my ear against the wall. "What were you doing in there?" no reply. "Answer me!" still no reply. Then finally "George, it's too late to be throwing tantrums, I was just bidding her goodnight anyway, I thought it would be the gentleman-like thing to do. Just go your room," With that the room was silent. "We don't even know her! She's just a pretty little stranger, so don't get involved. We've got to find her a place before she… sigh… nevermind." Another door shut, leaving of what I had assumed was Paul in the room. It was my turn to trespass. I opened my door and walked to the next bedroom where Paul was sitting on his bed, still rankled from his fight. I sat down next to him; he looked up to speak, but he could tell I already knew. "Did you have another fight with George?" I asked slowly. Paul nodded. "Am I the cause if it?" he looked down and stared at his feet, as if there were some sort of interesting movie going on atop his slippers. "I'm sorry," I said, not even sure what I was apologizing for. "I shouldn't have wandered into your room; it wouldn't have happened if I hadn't." I sighed thinking of a possible solution. "Do you want me to talk to George tomorrow?" Paul shook his head. "I'll take care of it," he said faking a smile. Then I simply left the room. I felt bad but it was probably the best thing for him.

I felt odd. I had been there two days and there was already this much drama. Wow. I wandered back into my room. But what did you expect when you throw a girl in the mix of four men. I sat on my bed, still wondering what happened to that damn watch. I dozed off, still worried about my watch. I fell into a deep, deep sleep. I hope I didn't snore. Oh god, what if Paul walked in and I was snoring! That would be horrible!

I woke up in the morning and changed my clothes. I wondered what happened to all the dirty clothes? I wouldn't have to worry about it because I guess I could say my laundry takes care of itself. Every time I wear something and I look back in the drawer and there it is, folded and clean. After all they weren't my clothes, they were the ones that just appeared. Which this no longer freaks me out because I am getting so used to it. If only it would do that when I was home, it would save me a lot of trouble. I decided after I got dressed, I would go downstairs and make breakfast for everyone. Oh wow, I would have to make 5 serving of something. I didn't know how to cook anything extravagant on the stove and there wasn't a microwave. I took out the cereal boxes and there wasn't even enough for one serving combined in all three of them. There wasn't really much I could make out of what was in the pantry or the cupboards either. So I decided I would just make some toast and jam for everyone. I wasn't that hungry so I decided I would only make four servings. I prepared the meal and slapped the eight pieces of toast onto a plate a put it in the middle on the solid oak table. This was a regular easy breakfast for me. I went upstairs to wake up everyone for breakfast.

John:

(poke poke) "Breakfast."

"Who? What? Oh, what's breakfast?"

I felt like a fool because I made toast, oh wow how exciting. "toast and jam" I muttered.

"Mmm, yummy."

George:

(poke poke) "Breakfast."

"Go away. I'll be down in a minute."

Paul:

(pat pat) "Good morning Paul."

"Good Morning,"

"I made breakfast,"

"Ok, I'll be down in a few,"

Ringo:

(poke poke) "Good morning Ringo, how about you come downstairs and have some breakfast,"

His eyes were as round as tomatoes "Ok, butIhavetotellyousomething," he said quickly.

"Ok you tell me at breakfast, ok Ringo? Ok."

Then I walked out before he could answer.

A few minutes later they all came downstairs. I was just sitting there at the table with my hands folded because I hadn't made myself any. I smiled as they all sat down. "Sorry boys, toast and cereal is just about the only thing I could make for you this morning."

"That's ok!" said Paul cheerfully.

"Yes, it doesn't bother me," said John.

"It does me" muttered George under his breath. Of course it would bother him, nothing is good enough for George.

" -"

"WHOA! Ringo slow down speak normal, I don't understand gibberish!" Said John

" I tried on Reilly's watch last night and accidently wore it to bed… then I was in the future… and I was in this house so I crawled out the window… and I wandered around to a park and fell asleep on a bench...then I woke up and I was here again." he explained.

"WHERE'S MY WATCH YOU BIG OAF?!" I said, or more or less shouted, my smile quickly disappearing. "I set it back on your dresser, I am sorry I wandered into your room… I liked the watch so I had to try it on,"

"YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO STEAL IT, YOU THIEF." As you might be able to tell, I wasn't very happy with Ringo at the moment. He looked down at his feet, like a fourth grader would do after he was yelled at by the teacher. Now I felt bad. I didn't know what to say.

"What a story. How much liquor have you had?" asked John

"I say we check his room for it, might have it hiding somewhere," suggested George.

The four of us nodded and we made our way up to Ringo's red room with pinewood flooring. John dropped to his knees and peered under the bed. Just as he had suspected there were two bottles of alcohol under there, one empty, one full. John handed me the bottles. Whisky. I walked over to the window and angrily opened it. I felt the cold air rush in. I could feel all of them staring at me wondering what I was going to a rage, I took both of the bottles, one in each hand and threw them out the window. I heard both of them hit the sidewalk with the sound of shattering glass. I'm glad that he just so happened to have alcohol in his room so I didn't have to tell them the whole story about the watch. I knew I had to sometime but it would have to take a while, after all I had only known them for a total of 3 days. "Whaddja do that for?" said Ringo sadly.

"I don't want you to get any more drunk than you already are!" I shouted.

"Just lie down and relax, Ringo,"

"But I don't want to,"

"Ringo, cooperate! Now be a good little boy and go to bed,"

"Fine," he said childishly. That was that, there were no more further arguments. He just pulled back his covers, got all comfy, and attempted to go to sleep. We exited his room and went downstairs to watch television or something to occupy time. I engaged a conversation with Paul. George butted in a few times, but I simply ignored him and Paul retaliated to his comments. If I didn't start to talk to George, he would always act this way and ruin my time. I had to butter him up somehow. So it was getting late and Ringo and John had gone upstairs to bed. Paul wanted to finish watching the show that was on at the time. George was still sitting on the couch with his right leg over his left. A commercial came on and a new show started so Paul smiled, bid us goodnight, and went upstairs for bed. Only George was left. He was sitting the couch opposite me. As much as I didn't want to, I went and sat by George. I had to sit real close to get a full effect, so I did.

"So, George," I said.

"So, Reilly," he remarked.

What am I supposed to say… Think quickly.. "How are you?" I said

"What should you care? You're too worried about Paul to bother about me,"

"Oh my gosh, why do you treat me so badly?"

"I don't,"

"Ugh! How can you even say that, you treat me like a piece of garbage and you hardly know me! Gee, sorry that I am a Beatles fan and I passed out in a coffee shop! It wasn't my decision to bring me back anyway! Looks like I am going to be here for a while so you might as well get used to it! Maybe you should think twice about bringing home a girl next time!" I said standing up to make a point.

"I am not the one who decided this, John and the others made most of the decision, before I could put my word in they had already heaved you into the car. Boy, was that a scene trying to get you through that coffee shop while you were passed out." he said with a chuckle.

"Well what can I do to get you to be more civil to me!"

"Stop worrying about what Paul is doing,"

"Well, gee, George, I can't control the one I fall for,"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean… that…. I like Paul….. As a friend, I mean,"

"Well I can be friendly," he said while raising his eyebrows in a disturbing manner.

"Then start acting like it," I said, starting to leave the room.

"Hey, Reilly?" called George.

I twisted around with an annoyed: "What?"

"You're awfully cute when you're angry," he said with a smile.

Oh, fuck off, I thought, and dashed off. Why must George always be so off with me? What did I ever do to him? He obviously must crave attention. Oh well, it isn't my concern. So after thinking about it, I decided I would stay one more day and then off to the present I would go. Then I would probably stay at home for a week or two. Goodnight, London…..

I woke the next morning to find that The Beatles weren't there. I became very frightened. Where had they went? Why would they just leave without telling me? By now, I was running around the house trying to find them. I checked all five rooms upstairs and the three downstairs. I had ran so fast that when I sat down on the couch I was practically hyperventilating.

"Where are they?" I muttered quietly under my breath. Being prone to anxiety and panic attacks, I probably overreacted. Then I decided I would look for a note. Sure enough, I looked on the fridge in the kitchen and I saw a handwritten message. Boy, I bet that would sell for quite a bit on eBay, a handwritten note from The Beatles? That'd go for a couple grand. Ok, that's is not pertinent now. I started to read the note. It read:

Reilly,

We are at the recording studio working on our album. If you would like to come and see us, we would prefer you call first. The number is written below. Hope to see you soon.

-Paul, John, Ringo, and George

phone #: (235)-555-4516. Just hail a taxi , tell them you need a ride to Abbey Road studios. We'll get the cab fare…

Ok, well I ought to call the studio and let them know I am coming so I don't just walk in unexpectedly. So I dialed the number on the phone 2-3-5-5-5-5-4-5-1-6

"Ello?"

"Ringo?"

"Yea,"

"Uh, I'm going to come to the studio here in a few minutes," So I traveled upstairs and looked in my drawer there was a peculiar yellow dress (in which also seemingly magically appeared) I put the dress on and smiled. Yellow was my favorite color. It looked nice on me. Ok today I would have to face the mob, luckily, today, I think the guards were working. I walked to the door and holding my breath, I turned the knob. There were two guards as expected, but no mob. This was weird. I bid good morning to the guards and hailed a cab. I told them my desired destination and he began to drive to the studio. I watched carefully. Every time he turned I made a mental note. Shortly after getting into the car, I was out. A man was waiting outside the studio to pay the cab fare and escort me inside the studio. He brought me through two different rooms and finally the room in which the boys were recording in. I greeted the four of them and sat down in one of the random chairs that had been set out. "I was waiting for you!" said Paul. You could tell he was eager to see me. George was still a little upset still about last night, but he did try his best to act civil around me. John and Ringo were just happy to have a female in their company.

The boys started to work on the song "Eleanor Rigby" Which had been one of my favorites on my cd copy of "Revolver" I hummed all the words and after they had finished, looks of curiosity were placed upon their faces. "How did you know all the words?" Asked John. "And the beat?" added Ringo "Well, uh, I heard one of you boys humming the tune to it so I kinda caught up the beat," They were still confused but I hadn't really known what to say. After all I am from the "Future".

Man, I wish that they all lived in my time era. Maybe I could transport more than one person to the future… I don't know, I'll have to experiment later.

After the boys finished recording, we had decided after much argument to go out to lunch. They had chosen the coffee shop in which they had first met me in. Before going to the shop, they dressed themselves in false facial hair so they wouldn't be recognized. I don't know what it was about that shop, but it was always totally packed. We walked to the private section so we could eat in peace. All the boys got settled in and they told me their orders. I got up and went to the counter and ordered the five sandwiches. When I came back, I noticed that I had to sit next to George. Oh boy, here we go. I get to sit next to Mr. Cranky-pants. I scooted myself next to George in the booth, as much as I didn't want to. I passed out the five sandwiches I had just ordered at the counter. Everyone started to eat except for me. I have had a curious appetite since I've came to London.

After we finished eating, we left the coffee shop and hailed a cab. We all piled into the taxi. We were as smashed together as a can of sardines, I had to sit on Paul's lap. Which was kind of sexy in a way. We drove home and then we all got out of the car one by one. Who would've known that a taxi cab could fit five people in the back seat?

I went upstairs to the bathroom to take a shower. (You know? I just took a shower in the Beatles residence, which also meant they took showers in there too, heeheehee) I took a shower and fixed my hair. It actually looked sort of good for once! Usually there's a big bump in the back but not this time.

I went in my room and there was this absolutely beautiful red dress on my bed. It was a halter top red dress and it came down just below the knee. It was fitted at the bust and floated out on the bottom. There was a note lying on top of it. All it said was: 'Sorry-George.' George had gotten me this fabulous dress. Wow! I hadn't expected that. I just thought it was another magically appearing dress. I couldn't wait to try it on! So I did. I wondered how he knew what size I was, because it fit perfectly. (Probably from him eyeing my every curve all the time... to be honest, I can't say I wasn't flattered by it either) I looked beautiful. I went downstairs in my bare feet to thank George. They were in the Ratty Blue Couch Room. I guess that would be like their living room? Paul was sitting watching TV, Ringo was also watching TV (on the same couch) John was fiddling with something in the corner and George was sitting on the other couch trying to see what John was doing. I walked in and all eyes were on me. They all had a look of awe on their face. You might have thought I was drop-dead gorgeous the way they were staring. I don't know, maybe I was!

"George!" I said happily. He smiled. I spun around real fast. I love doing that with a poofy dress because the bottom fluffs out when you spin. I don't know what came over me, but I sat down right next to George and gave him a big hug. And he actually sort of hugged back. "You're forgiven," I whispered in his ear. I managed a glance over at Paul. He was jealous. You could really tell. John went back to fiddling in the corner and Ringo's eyes wandered back over to the television set. Just by looking at his face you could tell George felt like a million bucks.

Paul was still sort of shocked. He got up and left the room. And he returned about fifteen minutes later with a glass of water. (I don't know why it took so long to get a glass of water...totally not conspicuous) He sat down on the couch with me and George, set his glass on the side table, and continued what he had been doing on the other couch. John finally finished fooling around in the corner and went and sat down by Ringo. Paul leaned over by me. "Did George buy you that dress?" I nodded. "Oh," he replied. "Isn't it gorgeous?" "beautiful," he replied. George then did something that was totally not necessary. He snuck his arm around my waist and pulled me closer to him, his hand getting a little too close to my breasts. I kind of squirmed until he realized that I didn't like it. So he put his arm down. That must have relieved Paul because I swore I heard a faint sigh coming from the left.

We were all terribly bored, so we had to come up with something to do. John left to go get cigarettes and other bits, Ringo went with him. I went upstairs for a little bit. So only George and Paul were in the Ratty Blue Couch Room. When I came downstairs Paul told me that George went for a walk around town. "Oh, I see," I replied.

"You know… there's a park near here, only a few blocks away," said Paul. "Would you like to go?" he asked.

"Well, it's awfully cold outside, but sure, I'd love to," I said.

Paul put his coat on and lead me outside. The cold chilly air stung my face. And I followed Paul to this park. It was a lovely park. There were lots of willow trees and there was a big beautiful lake in the middle of the park lined with little wooden benches for people to sit on. By the time we got to the park, my teeth were chattering so we sat down on one of the benches. I don't know why I agreed to come when I didn't have a coat. What an idiot. Paul noticed that I was freezing and he took off his coat and put it on my shoulders like a perfect gentleman. I was very grateful. I don't think he was that cold because he had long sleeves on and he was probably used to the London weather. We walked around the lake a while and talked about random stuff . Then we sat down and had a conversation under one of the willow trees near the lake. Part of it being: "Reilly?"

"Hmm," I said turning to look at him.

"I-I was wondering if you'd, uh, l-like to go to dinner with me?" first off, the stutter was adorable, and second, you could tell in his eyes he longed for me to say yes.

"I'd like that very much" I replied. I was surprised at how bonded we were already. Perhaps that's just how it is in the 60s.

I reckon I looked sort of silly walking around London with a big baggy mens' coat over a dainty little red dress, but I was so cold that it didn't even care at that point. We walked around for what seemed like a really long time until we came to this restaurant. It was extremely fancy looking. I knew it was one of those high-priced places. It was called Jack's Bistro. I know it might not sound fancy, but trust me, it was. The lighting was dark and the tables had velvety black tablecloths, which gave the whole area a lovely ambiance. All of the staff were dressed in tuxedos and formal clothes, there was even a delicate little vase in the middle of each table with a single red rose in it. To sum it all up-it was romantic as hell. I wondered what the other Beatles were doing. I figured that Ringo and John were home from the store. And I figured George was probably finished with his walk a long time ago.

There was a couple in front of us that had to be seated before us so we had to wait a couple of minutes. I gave back Paul's coat for the time being and when we were seated he hung it on the back of his chair. We sat down and our waiter, Phil, took our drink orders. Paul ordered a Coca-Cola and so did I. But I'm not quite sure why, because I don't really care for Coke. I looked at the menu and everything was in English money so I wasn't sure if it was a lot or not. Also it's 1966 so things are priced differently. For a wild guess, I'm going to say everything's going to cost about 10 pounds.

Paul ordered the chicken alfredo. I got the parmesan crusted tilapia with a side salad. It sounded good. I started to hum for a few minutes and play with my earrings. It sounds silly, but I tend do this a lot when I don't know what to say.

"So..uh, wow! This is a really nice restaurant," I said. Because it really was. He could have taken me to a Burger King or something, but he brought me here.

"Yes, it's one of the finest in London. Aside from Le Chateau Cuisine," he said the La Chateau Cuisine in a French accent. And the way he said it sounded so sexy that it sent a chill down my spine. "So, eh, George bought you that dress?"

"Yes, isn't it gorgeous?!" I asked. I realized that was about the third time I asked him that.

"You look absolutely stunning," he said sincerely. I smiled warmly, and I could feel my cheeks get a little red. "But, may I ask, what was the occasion?"

"Well, I reckon it was an apology present for treating me so badly," I said. Paul was turning over all this in his head. You could tell. "So… has he been treating you more kindly?"

"Well, yes, he got me this dress..." I said.

"Good," he replied. Now I was going to go for a more playful approach.

"Hey, Paul, guess what?" I said with a smile.

"What?" he replied with a mocking silly smile.

"Your accent is adorable!" that made him smile. His cheeks also got a little red, which made me smile.

Our fancy-pants waiter came with our entrees finally. And boy, let me tell you! That was one of the best pieces of fish I've ever had. The salad was good, but it would have been nice if they would have actually gave you a good amount of dressing. With all the money these fancy places rake in, they could afford to put some more salad dressing on there. But it wasn't that big of a deal. It wasn't like I was going to go tell the queen or something. Paul was pretty impressed with his chicken alfredo, too.

Now, I'm not too sure how English money works, but I think that considering it's the 60s and considering we're in London, that 6 pounds was an extremely expensive meal. Once we left, it was even colder than it was when we'd came. It was also almost dark and the sun was beginning to hide behind the clouds. Being the gentleman he was, Paul took off his coat again and placed it upon my shoulders. "Paul?" I said on our walk home. "Yes, Reilly?"

"Thank you very much for the dinner, it means a lot to me that you would do that. And the park with the lake, and the willow tree was wonderful. Really. I had a great time," I said. And this was true, I had a fantastic time with him. My favorite part is when we sat and talked under the willow tree. He flashed a smile at me and then looked at the ground (still smiling.) I step inward a little so I was standing closer to him. He slipped his hand under mine and I felt his long slender fingers entwine with my own. The sunset was beautiful. And we both knew it.

It was amazing. Then I realized that we had pretty much gone on a date. Holy shit, I just went on a date with a Beatle. I saw the house that we stayed at, and there was about five girls outside of the door waiting for one of them to come. It was somewhat dark out. Paul leaned in and whispered "Get ready to run." I nodded. The girls recognized him and we ran (still holding hands) up the few stairs and through the door. We locked it. Walking through the door that time was like that awkward moment when you walk into your kitchen and your parents are there waiting for you, like you did something bad. But instead of your parents, it was George.

I smiled (as much as I didn't want to) "eh… Hey, George!" I said. I knew what was coming. "So I buy you a dress…" he started. "And as a 'thank you' for it… you take my friend on a date?" he emphasized the word 'friend' as if I should have taken him on a date. He had a point. If I had given a friend a new tie and he took another girl on a date I'd be pretty ticked too… "It wasn't a date George…" started Paul.

"Then what the hell was it, Paul? Really, tell me." he was steamed. "Hold on, George."

Paul put his hand on my back and lead me up the stairs to my room. I kept shaking my head and saying that I wanted to talk to him, but he kept insisting that he'd take care of it. I heard a lot of shouting. But eventually, it got quieter and quieter so I assumed that they had worked something out. Nonetheless, I didn't like being fought over.

I went downstairs, disobeying Paul. Paul was on one couch and George was on the other. I decided to sit on the floor. I didn't want it to seem I was taking sides. "George, I am very terribly sorry that you misunderstood this situation."

"I understand it just fine. Paul just took you around to show you the city. Not what I thought" he said, avoiding eye contact. Took me around to show me the city? Well if that's what he told him it's not necessarily a lie. I mean, he did show me around the city. "So, George. You're not mad at me now, right? We're cool?" "Yea, I guess," When he said that, it felt like a load of bricks dropped off my back. I was glad that this didn't cause as much trouble as I thought it would.

That was enough drama for now. I decided to use my watch. But I wanted to try something. There was a teddy bear on my bed. I wanted to see if I could bring things from the 60s to the present. Like this teddy bear. The watch was stretchy so I stretched it enough so I could slip the teddy bear's arm in the watch. This might work… and this might not work.

I thought about my trip to the 60s. It had been quite nice actually. I thought about how I needed to tell the boys about my watch. I thought of a million different ways to try to tell them about it. I knew that the only one who might understand was probably Paul & Ringo (Since he experienced it himself…). I was so confused. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. To tell them or not to tell them. I wondered if I was even close enough to them yet to tell them about it. I reckon not, pretty much the ones I'd interacted with were Paul and George. I need to get to know the other two also.

I woke up in my own room that morning. Everything was the same. Home sweet home, I thought. I rubbed my eyes and I noticed that my arm felt…heavier. I looked at my arm that had previously been concealed under the blanket, and the teddy bear was attached in the band of the watch. I slipped the teddy bear's arm out of the watch and plopped it on the bed. It still looked brand new. It didn't age. I smiled. I had an idea…

In the meantime, I would have to stay another week. For the rest of my weekend, I didn't have any plans. I thought about going over to one of my friend's house but I was afraid that I would spill about my adventure in London. I spent a quiet weekend at home. I read a few books, I watched my favorite shows, went to the gym, the usual. As for the week, I managed to shut up at work. Although there were a few times when I thought it was going to slip. It was the usual regular days at work. I went in said 'hello' to everybody, changed some dressings, administered some shots, cleaned some PICC lines. I almost helped Dr. Loax with his surgery, but I politely declined because that would have made it so I couldn't go home until around 11:30 at night. I don't like to drive in the dark if I don't have to. Each weekday was the same… and each day I wasn't in the 60s, I craved to be back, I craved the drama. Hardly ever does something dramatic happen at the hospital. Unless, one of our patients dies. Which is usually quite sad because you get very attached to some people around here.

Thursday night I got bored, so I cleaned my house. It looked spotless. My kitchen looked like one of those in the catalogs! I was quite proud of my efforts of cleanliness. I could hardly wait until tomorrow night when I would return! I missed my boys. Friday, we had a birthday party at work. It was for me. I walked in and didn't expect anything, but instead there was huge party waiting for me and most of the hospital staff was there to celebrate. The cake was really good. Marble cake with chocolate frosting, my favorite! Tomorrow was my actual birthday, but I don't work on Saturday, so that's probably why they threw it the day before. Ooh! I just realized I would get to spend my birthday with the boys!

I got off work at six. I was so excited, but I was also tired. After I had carried in the couple of things I got for my birthday from work, I watched my favorite movie, "Help!" I fastened my watch onto my wrist. I'd almost forgot! I watched the movie until I drifted into slumber. I fell asleep at the part where George sings "I Need You..."

I woke up the next morning to the sound of people walking around. I smiled. This time I didn't feel like getting up as fast as I usually do. I laid in bed for a while, although I don't know why, because I was really excited to see the boys! I was quite comfy and cozy. I wondered what time it was. So I rolled out of bed. Literally, rolled out of bed. My body hit the floor with a flop that woke me up almost instantly. Okay, I'm up, I told myself. My pavender dress that had been reappearing was on my dresser, I put it on and brushed my hair like usual. I made sure to take off my watch. I had never worn dresses everyday like this before. I'm sort of getting used to it. I went downstairs to the kitchen. I looked in the fridge. I thought about making scrambled eggs, but then I decided I was too lazy to do that. So then, I was about to go in the Ratty Blue Couch Room, but something on the top of the fridge caught my attention. I turned slowly. And there they were. Twinkies. It was like they'd been sent from heaven! I took a pack out and went into the Ratty Blue Couch Room. John and Paul had been sitting on one couch and I went over and laid (yes, laid. Not sat.) on the other couch. "Morning!" said Paul sweetly. I also bade him an equally polite good morning. I opened my Twinkies and ate them happily. I watched television for a while. Then I threw away the wrapper for the Twinkies. Paul and John had seemed to be writing a song so I asked "What's it called?" I asked, and they replied "We're not sure yet..." So I nodded and kept watching TV. Ringo walked down the stairs and stood in the doorway. His hair was a mess so I figured he'd just gotten out of bed. Also he was in his pajamas. "John, you have a cigarette to spare?" He nodded, took his pack out, and threw one at him. Ringo caught it. He walked over to the back door and sat out in the backyard and smoked it. I didn't know we had a backyard! I went out to explore the backyard. It was a bit small. There was a concrete patio and then a few chairs, a grill, a table, not the fanciest. The grass was cut nice and short. The best feature of the whole yard was this big beautiful tree. Ringo was sitting in one of the chairs on the patio.

"Hey, Ringo!" I said.

"Hello," he said as he put out his cigarette in the ashtray that had been set on the table.

You could still smell the remnants of his cigarette. Then I talked to Ringo for a little while. We got to know each other a little bit. Eventually, we went inside. Paul was at the table drinking some coffee and skimming the newspaper. John was next to him also looking at the paper with him.

"I didn't know that there was a backyard," I said.

"Yes there is, I was going to plant a few lilies in the back when I got around to it. You know, to brighten it up a bit." said John more to Paul than me. "You enjoy gardening?"

"Not necessarily, but I know how to. I used to garden with my Aunt Mimi all the time,"

"Really! I used to garden with my mom too!" I said and we got into a talk about flowers and growing techniques. Then he said "I've got some bulbs to plant them,"

"Well, would you like to plant them now? I'll help if you want me to." I said. John had already dug out the grass where he wanted them to go (right up against the house.) I dug my trowel into the warm soil and made a six inch deep hole. John dropped the lily bulbs into the earth, covered them, and patted the dirt tight while I dug more holes. We were engaged in a conversation. I turned on the hose and when I did, it was on high and it sprayed all over John. "Oh my gosh John, I'm so sorry!"

He just shook his hair out like a dog and smiled. Then he laughed. So I laughed too. He wasn't mad.

"Now if you wouldn't mind, I think the lilies could use some water now,"

I giggled and apologized once more, then I watered the lilies being careful not to over-water them. I rolled the hose back up. John, because he was wet, squeaked when he walked. I had to giggle. John opened the door to the house and stood there until Paul noticed. John had this cheeky smile. Ringo and Paul took one look at him and started laughing hysterically. "What happened to you?!' Ringo said through chuckles. John made a goofy little sad face and pointed at me. I had to giggle. "Johnny, I didn't mean to spray you with the hose!"

"She got yeh with the hose, eh?" said Paul. Then they started laughing again. John squeaked all the way up the stairs to go take a shower. "Oh boy, I wish I would been outside for that one!" said Paul. I smiled.

"I heard your birthday is soon," said Ringo.

"Yes, it is indeed. Next Saturday, the 23rd" Paul tried to hide a smile. He was up to something. There was one Beatle I had yet to encounter. George. The others told me he was still sleeping though.

It was a really nice day for the middle of October. We were outside for a while. George finally woke up and came outside with us. Later, Ringo cooked burgers on the grill. They were a tad bit overcooked to my liking but I didn't say anything because I didn't want to upset him. My first day back was amazing. None of us were fighting, there wasn't any drama, it was full of laughter and good times. I think we all grew a little closer to each other.

The week went by really fast and before I knew it, it was Friday. I had a headache that morning so I sat downstairs all snuggled up in a blanket and watched television. All the boys said they had to go to a short recording session and they would be back later. In that time I had fallen asleep. I woke up around six and everyone was home. Ringo, George and John were on one couch and since my feet were up I took up about half of it, Paul had sat on my couch on the end where my legs weren't. "Your headache gone?" asked a concerned Paul. It was still there, but not as bad as it was before. "You excited for your birthday?" asked John. I nodded. "Yes, very!" I said with a weak smile. The headache had tired me. "Also, if you guys don't mind I'm going to sleep on the couch tonight." They all nodded and said that it was fine. We watched television for a little while and then everyone went upstairs. Each one said goodnight very politely to me. I could hardly wait to spend my birthday with the boys. That night, I was so excited I could barely sleep. I could hear everything. I could hear every stir upstairs. Every trace of wind outside the windows. I could hear every sneeze, every cough, every snore... I kept thinking to myself that I must go to sleep soon. Soon. Soon. Eventually, I became dreary and I finally dozed off around 1:30am.

When I woke, everything was quiet. I thought there wasn't anyone home. I got up and combed my hair as usual. I went upstairs to where I slept. There was one neatly wrapped present on my bed. All of sudden, my door opened and all four of them leaped in and said "Happy Birthday!" startling me. The sticker on the wrapping paper said "From all of us" the wrapping paper was yellow. The present was flat and shaped as a square. It wasn't a record… too small. I smiled at them and I proceeded to open it. I ripped off the wrapping paper viciously. There was a cardboard sleeve inside and in the sleeve was a 45. "Play it," said Paul smiling. I started to put it on the record player but I lied and told them that I'd never had a 45, just records. So George came over and put it on for me. One side was them singing "Happy Birthday" Each Beatles had a part they sang. (Ringo: Happy Birthday to you, John: Happy Birthday to you, Paul: Happy Birthday dear Reilly, George: Happy birthday to you!, and then some loud and happy cheering and clapping of Woo! Happy Birthday! And Yay!) I smiled at them all and thanked them. "We wrote a song for you too." said Paul.

"You did?" I said surprised. That must have been what John and Paul were writing on the couch previously! Ringo flipped it over and it started playing. In the beginning there were horns…"I was alone, I took a ride, I didn't know what I would find there!"

I immediately recognized this song as "Got to Get you Into My Life" My favorite on Revolver! I tried my very hardest not to sing along to it like I would usually. It about killed me!

Awe! That song was written for me, I told them that I loved it! They all seemed very pleased. I gave each one of them a hug. "There's more!" said Paul. It sounded like one of those commercials on TV when they're trying to sell you something for only $19.95. But yet, it was still cute! "What might that be, Mr. McCartney?" I said playfully leaning into him. Paul seemed to be delighted that I'd called him by his last name, for he cracked a little smile, infact, I think all of them did. "We're going to take you to lunch this afternoon at Le Chateau Cuisine," he said it with the French accent again, more chills. "All five of us?!" I said excitedly. "All five of us," he repeated. I was so happy! Paul had said that was the best in London!

All the boys had exited the room and Paul was the only one left. "I've got a little something else for you later, too,' he said mischievously with a smile before he left.

Ooh, what might that be? I thought. What a fabulous birthday it was turning out to be! I thought it was incredibly thoughtful of them to write a song for me. .

I decided to make myself some breakfast, I went downstairs and meandered around the kitchen gathering what I needed to make pancakes. Paul was at the table. He looked over to see what I was doing. He got up as I was getting out the pan. "Allow me," he said. I smiled and handed the cookware to him. He made me two pancakes and with the leftover batter he also made himself one. As Paul sat down to eat his, John walked in "You all've gone and made pancakes without me?" he teased.

After breakfast, we all sort of laid around. But eventually, John got out a deck of cards. I watched them play several card games that I didn't know how to play. They kept urging me to join, but I had only wanted to watch. I wanted to ask them if they would teach me how to play poker, but I didn't. I wanted to show them a card game called 'Bullshit'. I taught them how to play it, and George won the first game. Ringo ended up with almost half the deck when the objective is to get rid of all of your cards! We played several games, Ringo didn't win any of them; I guess 'Bullshit' was just kind of bullshit for Ringo.

Afterwards, the boys all sat and listened to the radio for a while. I had found some paper and a pencil and I was just doodling some random stuff on it. Like weird flowers and plants and creatures. Things you might see in the Yellow Submarine movie. Eventually, I got bored of that after an hour and by then, it was around two in the afternoon. I did all the things I do to make time go faster. I read a magazine, I took a shower, I did my hair, I put a new dress on, and I even managed to go outside for a little bit. It was a gorgeous Saturday morning. There was a small breeze and a few light fluffy clouds in the sky. It wasn't warm, and it wasn't cold, it was just in between. My favorite temperature. It was quite peaceful out. No worries. I had drifted off into a light sleep in the chair outside. I had my head in my hand and my elbow was propped up on the table.

I awoke to a slight shake. I woke up and Paul's face startled me. "You've been asleep out here for about two hours now," he said.

"Really?" I asked in disbelief. It seemed like I was only out for moments.

"Yeah, I had to come wake you otherwise we would be late for our reservations."

"Reservations?…Oh yes! Reservations!" I had nearly forgotten.

It was time to hop back into the sardine can. (The Taxi) Paul, was on the end and George was on the other end, John and Ringo were squashed in between them and I had to lay on top of all of their laps. I had to sit on Paul, which he, uh, seemed to enjoy if you know what I mean, and my long legs were spread across the other three boys. I sort of felt bad for them.

Once we had arrived, it was real fun getting out of the car. George got out first, Ringo second, John third, me, fourth, and Paul last. And it really was a big struggle. But finally, everyone got out. Everyone pitched in for the cab fare. We were all quite glad to get into the restaurant. It was empty, I'm assuming because the boys reserved the whole restaurant to avoid being mobbed by fans. We all sat down at a table that seated six people. Me and Paul sat across from each other John sat next to me, Paul sat next to Ringo and George sat on the end of the table away from everyone else but he seemed to be content by himself.

The waitress came over, she had curly red hair, and green eyes she was a bit lanky also. She was chewing a piece of gum rather loudly and you could tell she didn't take her job too seriously. She probably got the job through a friend. As she came closer I saw her name tag. Her name was quickly forgotten because after all, unless you're a repeat customer, you don't usually remember a waitress's name. She pulled out her little tablet and pen and took our orders. I ordered the parmesan crusted chicken, Paul had gotten only a salad, Ringo got spaghetti and meatballs, John got a steak, and George got the veal. For drinks we all had Coke.

She soon came with our Coke, she was having a lot of trouble though. I reckon it's kind of challenging to balance five coke glasses on a tray. The boys talked a lot about their new album. I only listened, I really had nothing productive to add to the conversation. A few comments here or there, but never a real subject changer. It was really awkward having to sit in a restaurant with nobody in there. They brought up about how they hadn't chosen a album cover for it. They discussed where they would want the photo shoot to be and they thought about an old western town and all of theirs ideas were incredibly silly, childish infact.

"What if you had and artist draw you instead of taking photos" I said flatly. Everyone was silent, I don't know whether they were shocked by my sudden comment, surprised by the tone I spoke in, or just stopping to consider the idea. I reckoned it was the latter. It was only about a three second pause but it felt much longer. Finally, George broke the silence. "That's actually a really fine idea!" everyone seemed to agree. Finally, our red-headed waitress came with the food. She must have been new too, because she could only carry two plates at a time and still had difficulties. I was surprised she wasn't gushing over the Beatles being there and all. She must not have been a fan. She obviously recognized them though.

During the actual meal, the boys talked back and forth. Me and Paul weren't much involved in the conversation. I think we were both thinking about the first time we'd been out to eat, and the lake, and the walk home. All of us seemed pleased with our meal. Finally, the red-headed waitress came with the check. The boys gathered their wallets on the table and put their share of the money in a pile. They paid for mine, too, which I felt bad because it was one of the more expensive dishes. Then just as I thought we were going to leave, George slides something out of his pocket, and says "Another little thing from all of us." The box looked just like the little boxes that a proposal ring might be contained in. I opened the box and found this marvelous pair of diamond earrings! Even in the dimly lit restaurant the sparkles were bright and luminous. I put them on and then immediately thanked everyone. I figured this was the "little something," Paul was talking about.

The bill was paid and we all waited inside for the cab to appear. "You fellas go ahead and take this cab. Me and Reilly will take a separate one, you know, so we aren't too tight again." Everyone agreed that was a good idea, but George was a bit leery about it. I saw Ringo, John and George get in the cab, still fitting a bit snug but not as bad as when we're all in it and then I watched the cab jump into gear and drive away. I caught a glimpse of it as it rounded the corner. I had expected for Paul to be calling for another cab by then, but he remained by my side. "It's gone now," he said. "Yes," I replied.

He looked at me, and then somehow I knew that we weren't going to take a cab back. We were going to walk. I had been hoping somewhere in the back of my head that we were going to walk but I thought the chance was slim. He opened the door, leaving fingerprints on the cold glass. I stepped out and it was nearly dark outside. It hadn't taken long to get here by car so I was assuming that it wouldn't take too long to get home by foot. I hope not, because I had rather uncomfortable shoes and a storm was beckoning. His fingers once again found mine and we walked hand in hand down the sidewalk. We began chit-chatting. Small talk, nothing really exciting. "I saw you doodling," said Paul. "Oh, you did?" He nodded. "They got me thinking, you know, after you said that bit at dinner about having someone draw us rather than a photo…That well," I was listening very closely now. "Maybe you could draw us for the cover," I thought about it. They wouldn't be to hard to draw considering I already knew what the album looked like anyway. "I could probably manage that," I said. He gave me a smile. We continued walking for another block or so. All of a sudden Paul's pace quickened and he jerked me into the alley by my arm. It felt like he nearly tore my shoulder out of its socket! Once we were hidden in the shadows, he softly pressed me up against the cold brick wall. And then came the kiss. His lips were warm and soft. And his hands, one rested on my shoulder and the other on my cheek. I felt his weight shifted against me, we weren't even an inch apart. "I've been waiting to do that all week. Happy Birthday," he whispered into my ear. "Oh, darling, that's not all you've got is it? It's my golden birthday." I said, perking up his coat collar and pulling him in for another more passionate kiss. Now, now, self-control. As soon as it was over I was pulled back into the moonlight, and we continued walking home. I began to feel light-headed, what a great kisser. I was in a sort of a daze. I noticed the temperature began to drop rapidly and I was soon freezing, although I didn't ask for Paul's coat because the house was in sight.

We were finally there. I opened to door and the warm air greeted me. I went into the Ratty Blue Couch room. Everyone was in there as suspected. George had out his acoustic guitar and was fiddling with a melody. John was watching television., and Ringo was reading a book. "What took ya so long?" asked John.

"The damn cab driver got lost," said Paul. "For Chrissake, you'd think they'd know how to find a simple address," I must have looked a sight. I was told I looked like I'd just seen a ghost. For my eyes were open as wide as they could go and my mouth was slightly open. I had this blank dazed expression on my face and I was staring at the wall for a good half hour before I came to. The first thing I thought was Whoa that did not just happen, did it? I needed to tell them about the watch soon. Tonight even. But how? I figured I could confide in Paul after what just happened. But how would I tell him? You don't just bring up a magical watch and people are like "Yeah ok!" It just doesn't happen.

I was sitting on the couch watching TV, trying to figure out how to tell him. It could either go really bad or it could go really well. I'm hoping for the latter. First, I'd have to get him alone, but that would be no problem. Then I would have to bring up the subject somehow.

Ringo had finished the book he had been reading. He rubbed his eyes and decided to go upstairs. He bid us a good night. A show that John didn't like came on, so he went up stairs to go to bed although he said he wasn't tired. George was still fiddling with a tune. I had barely recognized it but it was there. The song that was developing was "Old Brown Shoe," but I realized it would be a few years before he got it down and gave it words. You could tell he was getting frustrated with it though. He finally gave up and set the guitar in its case and put it behind the couch where it had been before. He went outside to have a cigarette before bed. Where he joined Paul who was also smoking. I was alone in the Ratty Blue Couch Room. I went to go get some paper and a pencil because I became bored with watching television. I started to draw a rose. Not doodle, actually draw it. Roses are quite delicate things, which is hard to capture. They are also very intricate things to draw and it takes a lot of patience, every petal, every vein, every thorn requires a detail to make it what it is. I had hardly noticed that Paul had came in and sat beside me because I was pouring all of my thought and attention into this drawing. I had only just started the outline of it. I put my pencil down when I heard him speak.

"How do you do that?"

"I don't really know. Practice, I suppose." I said, studying what I'd drawn so far.

"Could you teach me?" I looked up at him. Could I? I'm not much of a teacher. I tried to teach a friend to draw many times but she always got frustrated and erased it, and no matter how many times I assured her that she was doing fine, she still erased her work. I think drawing is a gift that many people long to have. It takes a lot of time and a lot of patience. And unfortunately, most people don't have either of these qualities.

"I could try."