Hello all! I know that I haven't been updating my other stories as regularly as I should be, but this is just a story that came to my mind and I couldn't help but at least write a few chapters. I'd love it if you all could give me some input on whether or not I should continue, so if you life it or have some suggestions, review or shoot me a PM. I really hope that you enjoy because I really think we could go somewhere with this story. Well, I hope you had a happy winter season and I hope you have a wonderful new year!

x

"Paul," Jane said quietly. "Do you think you'll be home soon?" He lit a cigarette and shrugged.

"Dunno," he murmured. "Probably not. Why?" She brushed a long piece of red hair behind her ear.

"Well, you made such a big deal about me not being home, but you're never here now." She scratched her nose. "Seems kind of unfair, really. We never have any time or anything."

"We're going to that party tonight, aren't we?" he said impatiently. "Or is that not up to your caliber? Sorry it can't be a movie premiere, but this is as best as it gets."

"You know what? Fine. I'll find something else to do. I'll see you later," she snapped angrily. She was too independent and mysterious, and that scared him. He watched her walk quickly upstairs and away from him and as he left the house, he wondered how it turned out to be this way.

She went out with her friend for a movie she had shot a few years earlier and came back home to Paul who was extremely irritated with her. He told her to get her costume on and said that he didn't want to hear another word from her. She was an hour late and he knew that people would start to notice that they weren't at the Beatles' own party.

"You changed cigarettes?" she asked as she ran a comb through her hair. He shook one out and lit it.

"Yeah," he sighed, leaning back in his chair and watching her get dressed. "Felt it was time for a change." The words seemed to have a double meaning. Jane hesitated before putting her dress on the rest of the way. She lifted up her hair and peered over her shoulder at him.

"Zip me up?" He did as he was asked and pressed his lips to her neck. "Not right now, Paul. You're the one who's pushing me out the door." He huffed and pushed her away.

"Fine, then. Let's go." He grabbed his keys and waited until she followed him to the car. As he drove the Rolls Royce dangerously fast through the quiet streets by their home, he glanced at her every so often. Her blue eyes steamed with hidden anger as she pulled on a strand of her shiny hair. She was dressed as a French maid and shivered because Paul liked to have the window's down.

"What the hell's eating you?" he asked. She glared at him as she rubbed her hands up and down her arms to warm them. "Jane if you're going to be a bitch all night-,"

"Don't start this," she groaned. The car started to go faster as Paul's temper increased. "Paul, slow down."

"Be quiet," he growled, turning a corner precariously. Jane's hands held the bottom of the seat for dear life.

"Then pull over," she said shakily. The speed increased steadily. "Paul! Stop the car!"

"Close your bloody mouth or I'll do it for you!" They whizzed through a red light and Jane screamed as a car almost plowed into the side of theirs. "What the hell did I just say?"

"Stop the damn car!" she yelled. He matched the volume of her scream with his own sound of frustration and pulled into an empty side street. Before the car completely stopped, Jane was unlocking the door and hastily collecting her things.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?"

"Anywhere but with you," she hissed as makeup ran down her face she slammed the door viciously. She attempted to run away, but Paul caught her quickly and put her back into the car. She tried to fight him, but her pushed her back into her seat, hit the lock, and closed the door.

When he got back to his side of the car, he grabbed her arm and pulled her close to him. She turned her face away stubbornly, so he took her chin and made her look at him.

"The next time you want to pull a stunt like that, I'll make sure your fucking ears ring whenever you think of it," he shouted. She looked at him with hurt in her eyes.

"Paul!" she said, obviously scared. "Why would you say something like that?"

"Because the next time you do that, what if you run off to some bloke and he takes you from me?" he finally admitted. Her eyes softened and she leaned across the seat to kiss him.

"No one will," she said gently. He pulled her over to sit on his lap. She was cramped because he took up most of the room on the small driver's side, but she stayed nonetheless. "It's just…al the arguing and the fighting and the accusing and the blaming, Paul! I'm just so sick and tired of it!"

"I know, love," he said as he held her closer to him. She became distracted as he kissed her deeply.

"I just want…" she sighed before he met her lips again. "I want…" He ran his hand through her soft hair.

"What?" he murmured. She put her hands on his chest and kissed him again.

"I just want us to love each other," she whispered painfully. His hazel eyes met her sad blue ones and he pulled her back to him. They lost track of time and were kissing passionately when there was a knock on their window. Jane jumped as Paul rolled it down. A police officer looked at them suspiciously.

"There a problem, officer?" Paul said curiously. Jane blushed and fumbled with her dress so that it wasn't falling off of her shoulders.

"You kids gotta move, now," he commanded. "This is a dead end, but it ain't no place to be doing whatever it is you're doing." Jane tried to move back to her seat, but Paul kept his arm tight around her waist. The police officer was subtly looking over Jane's figure in her costume which showed a lot of leg.

"Soon as you keep your eyes off of me girl," he said, narrowing his eyes. The officer stepped back awkwardly as Jane slide back into her seat. The officer jerked his chin up authoritatively.

"Deal. Have a nice night." Paul hissed angrily and pulled away from the curb quickly. The tires screeched as he drove quickly to John's house. As they pulled up, Paul grabbed Jane's arm.

"What?"

"I don't want to see you talking to any men," he warned her. She looked at him and tried to pull away but his grip got tighter.

"Paul, let go!" she yelled.

"Shut up and do what I said." He let her go and went around to open the door for her. He grabbed her hand and they walk to the door silently. Cynthia opened the door dressed as a flapper girl.

"Hey, there!" she greeted. She gave them each a hug and a kiss. "Party's in the living room. You know where you're going." She looked at Jane's red arm. "Jane, would you help me with the drinks? I don't want to take John away from the party."

"Yeah," Jane agreed. She looked a Paul nervously and kissed his cheek. "I'll see you in a minute?" He squeezed her hand and went off to see his friends. Jane helped Cynthia fill some flutes full of champagne and they indulged in a few glasses themselves. They laughed about John and Paul's latest fight when Cynthia noticed Jane's bruised arm again.

"Wait happened here?" she asked. Jane looked down at it as if she hadn't expected it to look that bad.

"That's was fast," she said quietly, gently tracing the outline of the bruise. "I really hate it when we argue."

"That's two of us," Cynthia sighed. "Was it bad tonight?" Jane poured Paul a Scotch and Coke and shrugged.

"Not as bad as some of the others," she admitted. She took a sip of the drink, winced, and put it back down. "It was kind of mild, really. He's just a shit driver, too." The women giggled together and finally took the drinks into the living room.

"Oh, the princesses decided to join us!" John crowed. Cynthia rolled her eyes and passes out the beverages. Jane went to talk to Patti and Paul noticed a few men staring at her. He scowled but continued his conversation with John. Jane excused herself to use the restroom and the four men followed her, laughing drunkenly. It took him about a minute, but he got worried because he heard the laughing getting louder. Eventually, their laughs were all that he could hear over the conversation in the room. He heard Jane call out for him and he instantly jumped up and ran to find her.

When he ran into the hallway, they had Jane cornered and she was truly showing her youth. Her blue eyes were wide and scared as she cried for Paul. Without hesitation, he immediately let loose and punch the man holding her in the corner. The man grasped his jaw as Paul hit the two other men in the stomach and chin. They slumped down in pain and he pulled Jane close to him.

"I wasn't talking to them or anything," she said innocently. "I don't know why they followed me."

"Jane," he sighed. "You're a pretty bird, so blokes are always gonna follow you. You have got to be aware because next time I won't be there to save you." Her skin turned just a shade lighter than the average cadaver.

"Well, why not?" she panicked.

"You never know." She looked at the men stumbling out of the hallway and pulled her dress down a bit.

"Can we just go home?" she asked quietly. He held her tightly and rubbed her back.

"Yeah. Let's just say goodbye and we'll go home and go to bed, alright?" She nodded into his chest and kissed him. They said their goodbyes and the crowd found it slightly suspicious that they were leaving so soon after they had arrived. Jane kept her shaking hands in her lap as Paul drove home at the same breakneck speed as before.

Jane sat up reading a script and Paul was scrawling down a few lyrics as they sat in bed. She put down her papers and lay her head on his chest. He put his arms around her and sighed.

"What're we doing tomorrow?" she yawned.

"We'll meet with the director I wanted you to meet. He's invited us to play tennis at his house after brunch." She nodded and kissed him.

"Goodnight, Paul," she said quietly.

"Night, love."

The next morning, they left out to the director's large white house. Jane stared up in awe as she lifted her sunglasses.

"Jesus," she exhaled. "The director lives here?"

"Actually, he lives in a small room over the garage. The servants live here," he joked. She swatted his chest and let him help her out of the car.

"How can he work in a place like this?" she asked as they walked under a lattice trellis.

"Stocker doesn't work. He's a director."

"Stop it." They examined his large yard that was slightly occupied with well-to-do looking people. "Well, looks like everybody's here."

"Everybody who's anybody."

"What, no ice skating rink?" she said as they passed the croquet court and the swimming pool.

"No, it's in the cellar." She rolled her eyes as the director approached them.

"Well, well! Mr. McCartney, as I live and breath!" the man chuckled heartily.

"Larry, how do you do?" Paul asked as a blonde came to attach herself to Larry's arm.

"Fine, just fine!" he said. He offered his hand to Jane. "Larry Stocker, I'm glad you could make it. This is my wife, Tina."

"Hello, Tina," Paul smiled. Tina sparkled.

"Hi ,how are you?" she breathed. Larry interrupted her.

"Now, it's Janie, isn't it?" he asked.

"It's Jane," she said stonily. Paul nudged her.

"Can I get you a drink?"Tina asked.

"No. thank you," Jane smiled. Paul simply shook his head and looked off into the distance. Jane took his hand and he glanced down at her with a small grin. He took her by the waist and led her to the tennis courts.

"Paul, Jane, we'll talk more later!" Larry called as he went back to his croquet game. Paul raised his hand in acknowledgement and tossed Jane the ball. "I'm throwing Jerry a birthday party! Everyone's got to come as a Marx brother."

"Sounds like fun," Jane commented. "But I'll tell you one thing, I'm not coming as Groucho."

"Good, you can come as Harpo. That way you won't be able to talk," he chuckled.

"Ha ha ha," she laughed sarcastically. "I think you're an idiot." He burst into laughter as she served.