"Don't wander or dawdle, yeah?" George craned his neck to see over the heads of our bodyguards, his expression inscrutable. "Just stick close."

"Oh, Jennifer knows better," Paul said affably as he lugged two suitcases out of the back of the car. He gave me a smile. "Don't you, Jen?"

I looked back at Paul, feeling nervousness and excitement come over me in increments. I returned his smile with a small one of my own, about all that I could muster. I nodded my assurance that I would indeed stay with the pack. Paul winked.

"You'll be just fine," he said, his confidence calming. I took a deep breath and managed a bigger smile.

"There's a girl," he said affectionately. He handed the two suitcases to George and retrieved two more for John, who was busy looking around at the already crowded airport parking lot, his face lighting to an excited smile. Ringo stood by him, both of their energies and excitements building off of each other. Ringo cracked a joke that I didn't quite catch; John laughed outright.

"Alright, boys, it's time!"

Brian Epstein, affectionately called "Eppy" by those who knew him well, threaded through several policemen in order to get to where we five stood. For the manager of a wildly successful boy band, he was young compared to others in the business, and much more likeable when he wanted to be. He glanced over each one of us, doing a head count, getting to me last. He smiled when he saw me.

"Ah, Miss Jennifer," he said pleasantly, using his customary Miss title for me. "Are you ready for your first taste of stardom?"

I laughed. Of course, I wasn't really the star. The hundreds of girls were crowded just on the other side of the airport to see the boys, not me. Even still, it would be a completely new experience for me, one that I didn't know if I would like.

"Ready when you are, sir," I said. He nodded with a grin.

"Right-o," he said, addressing all of us now. "You all know the drill. Boys, keep special watch on Miss Jennifer here. She doesn't know what she's in for, I expect."

"Yes, sir," they chorused. Eppy nodded to the chief in charge, Sgt. Clifford, to indicate we were ready. Paul and John stood to my left and right, George flanking Paul, and Ringo appearing at John's side with his own share of the luggage. He grinned at me.

"Ok, Jen?" he asked. I nodded.

Eppy stood at the front of our elaborate procession. "And… off we go."

The next few, or several, minutes were a blur. The only thing I could hear was screaming girls from every quarter. I was crushed unintentionally against several people from all sides, pushed forward with the momentum of our group. The boys waved good-naturedly to the fans, smiling all the while. Ringo looked a tad paler than he had earlier, but smiled broadly nonetheless.

I felt myself stumble on the feet all around mine, but was afforded no chance to regain my balance. I would have fallen if not for John's automatic hand on my back, steadying me, even though he never took his eyes off the crowds. Grateful, I decided to leave my thanks until he could hear it.

"Oi!" came a call from one of the police officers. "Watch these young ladies on the right!"

Several police broke off from the group to contain the influx of girls that had broken through the barriers. They ran at us – well, at the boys – crying and screaming. For some reason, the sudden movement of the police to check the girls' progress and the girls themselves made a wash of anxiety go over me. I reached out and grabbed the hand nearest me, seeking assurance; it happened to be Paul's. He checked back over his shoulder, giving me a brief once-over, and gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.

We were pushed up the steps to the airplane, making staying upright even more difficult. I eventually managed to stumble up to the top of the roll-away steps; when I did, I took a second to catch my breath amid the excitement. There were so many people here, just to see the boys off to their undisclosed vacation. We were high enough to see the activity bustling below us: police officers blocked the stairs and still others manned the gates where teenagers massed. The excitement and adrenaline was almost palpable, rolling in waves from the crowd.

I felt someone nudge me. I looked down; George stood two steps below me, looking up with a mix of amusement and teasing impatience. He nodded behind me.

"They're awaiting you aboard the aircraft, ma'am," he said, encouraging me to move forward. I flushed slightly.

"Sorry," I said, turning and ducking into the airplane. George followed, his hands full with his bags. "I guess I just got so caught up in it all."

He nodded, slightly distracted, though still with one ear on our conversation. "It's a strange experience. I did the same my first couple times."

I let him get by so he could put his luggage up, standing to the side as Eppy got everyone organized and settled. It wasn't a large airplane, but it was fancy. It was one of those that have seats facing each other, beige-carpeted floors, and plenty of windows for us to look out of. Having never ridden in an airplane, I was excited for takeoff.

When the crowd inside the aircraft had thinned, some people going off and others retreating to the back room, Eppy addressed us.

"It's a rather long flight to the Bahamas, as we know," he said smartly. "So, settle in for the long haul. I'll be in the back room with the other adults – " he gave us a teasing smile – "if you need anything. Otherwise, don't get into trouble."

"Bye, Eppy," we called after him as he pulled the door to the back cabin shut behind him.

"Oh, what a time," John said with a sigh, flopping into his seat.

"Indeed," Paul agreed, settling into his own seat next to John.

Ringo made to sit beside John, but John took the liberty of throwing up the armrest and occupying the third seat on the row before he could. John didn't notice what he'd done until Ringo crossed to the opposite row. John immediately sat up, laughing.

"Sorry, Rings," John said, half amused and half sheepish. "You can sit here if you like."

Ringo laughed as he sat across from Paul, waving John off. "It's alright," he said. "You take it."

Paul rubbed a hand over his face, then looked over at Ringo. "You ok, mate?"

Ringo nodded, his face already regaining the color he'd lost in the crowd. "Yeah, I'm fine," he said. Ringo had a certain anxiety when it came to crowds, but he never let it beat him, which we all admired.

"It scares me half to death," he said, "but I love it. I love the kids." He shrugged hopelessly, laughing at himself.

"What about you?" George asked me, sitting between me and Ringo. "Alright?"

I shrugged. "It was… exhausting," I said. They nodded in agreement. "It was fun, I guess. Just… strange." I looked around at the four familiar, kind faces that I loved. "Thanks for getting me through it."

Paul winked. "We've got your back, Jen. Never you fear."

Other than the slight fear for my life at takeoff, our flight was rather pleasant. We spent the first few hours chatting and just hanging out, something we hadn't done in a long time. With the boys at press conferences, concerts, television shows, and the studio, we hardly ever had time to just sit down and enjoy each other's company. I was allowed to attend some parties and Eppy made sure that I got to stay backstage for most of the concerts, but we were always on the go. Our five-flat house was the only place we could get some peace and down-time, and even there, the boys were stressed about various things and I was still attending some music classes at the Royal Conservatory of the Arts.

We'd first come up with the idea for a vacation earlier this year, in mid-January, when stress was particularly high. Perhaps it was the bleak winter that made us so stir-crazy. Even so, while Eppy and the others were looking for opportunities to get us out of it for a while, he told us we wouldn't be able to until the summer, at least.

We all settled in to grin and bear it until the end of April, in which we were promised a ten-day vacation in the Bahamas where we could be completely off the grid. No press, no fans, no deadlines. No one would know where we were going except for our small escort, and we'd be worry-free until we arrived back in London.

I sighed in contentment, looking around the cabin of the airplane at the boys. John was asleep, curled in his double seat, using his wadded-up jacket as a pillow. Ringo was sitting at a window seat, taking pictures of the sky with his new Polaroid. Paul and George talked animatedly about the party they had attended the night before.

"I told the news lady that I didn't want to talk about it, you know," George was saying. "I wasn't going to just bash you all in front of the whole world."

Paul's brow knit. "What did she say?" he asked. "Did she ask you about it?"

George cocked his head on either side, a soft crack accompanying each movement. "Well, yeah. She said she wanted to know what I thought of that new article about 'dissention in the ranks', or what have you." George shook his head with a short laugh, as if it was the silliest idea he'd ever heard. "She wanted to know did we secretly dislike each other, or something to that effect."

Paul snorted. "They don't know the half of it," he joked. George laughed.

"That's what I told her, actually," he said, propping his right ankle on his left knee, his leg bouncing.

Paul gave him a half-incredulous, half-amused look. "Did you really?" he asked.

"That very thing," George confirmed. He breathed a laugh as if remembering something humorous about the story. "She kind of, I dunno, gasped or something and put her hand to her heart."

"Bet that one gets out in the morning paper," Paul said with a laugh.

George shrugged. "I told her I was joking, and I said something like, 'I really do love all of them like brothers, and we love making music together'."

Ringo gave a short laugh from behind his Polaroid where he was still snapping pictures from the window seat. "God, George, you're so sappy."

George smiled. "I had to say something, or the poor woman would have had a heart attack. I couldn't have that on my conscience. Besides," he said, more seriously, "it's true. I wouldn't lie about how it is with all of us. I mean, we are like brothers. Times aren't always perfect, but that's the way it is in a family."

He looked down at his feet as he said this, rubbing the back of his neck like he did when he was nervous. We all smiled to ourselves. Usually so reserved, George only once in a while said things like that; when he did, it was a treasure to us.

"Well, she came and talked to me as well," Paul said, shifting focus to himself, which I'm sure George was grateful for. "She wanted to know about where we were going on vacation, and I looked at her like, 'bloody hell, woman, you think I'd tell you?'."

Listening to them talk, I felt drowsiness come over me. I blinked, trying to clear my head. The excitement of today and the late night of yesterday were catching up with me. I closed my eyes for a moment, not intending to actually fall asleep, but was jerked awake when my chin hit my chest.

"George," Paul said, nodding in my direction. "Looks like you got a nodder."

George turned to me. His expression softened as he glanced over me.

"Lay your head, then, Jen," he said, shifting so that his shoulder was accessible. I settled against him, leaning my head on his shoulder. In minutes, I was sound asleep.