A/N: Yes, I own the Beatles. I'm not going to lie. Also, I promise that they'll make an appearance in the next chapter. Which (along with the next seven or so) is already written. REVIEW.

~ Six months ago, fifty-three years in the future ~

"Is there anybody going to listen to my story, all about the girl who came to stay? She's the kind of girl you want so much it makes you sorry. Still, you don't regret a single daaay. Oh giiiiirl, giiiiiiiirl. . ."

John Lennon's voice travelled through the thin wires, out the small speakers and into her ears. From there, it echoed around inside her head, and caused her feet to start tapping to the beat. She clutched the cool metal of her iPod tighter as she leant back into the comfy bus seat. The engine hummed beneath her, and the sunlight streamed in through the large windows, warming her. Being half-past eleven on a Thursday morning, the bus was half empty and flying down the deserted road. She sat close to the window, gazing out at the city as they passed through, her overflowing bag resting on the seat next to her.

As the song went on, she began to zone out, letting images of John Lennon and his little-known band flit through her mind. Absent-mindedly, she began coiling the cord to her headphones around in her pale fingers. She could whittle away hours like this, just listening to her favourite bands. They would never get old for her.

The bus wound its way through the leafy London streets without much hassle. On some days, she would have marvelled at the beauty of the timeless city, but today she just let it wash over her. She had other things on her mind, such as the very last paper she had just handed in before graduating. She was now returning home after visiting her professors and signing out for her final semester. She was finished. It was time to actually start her life, for real.

And that was scary.

But for now she was just content to fall asleep with her iPod playing in her ears as the bus rumbled through magical London town. Resting her elbow on the window ledge, her head fell against the palm of her hand, and she settled into a comfortable position. The bus stopped and started, people got on and off, but she was oblivious to it all.

The bus driver was near the end of the route when he began to notice her. Everyone else had alighted along the way, and, from what he could remember, she should have gotten off half an hour or so ago, with everyone else. He decided to continue driving before waking her, and did so in relative silence, so as to not disturb her. The dark shadows beneath her eyes gave him the impression that she needed the rest.

Eventually, he reached the end of the route and pulled over. He killed the engine, opened the short partition and got up out of his seat. Looking around the seats for any rubbish left behind by thoughtless teenagers, he made his way up the aisle. He tutted in disapproval as he caught sight of a crushed soft-drink can under some seats, and sighed as he reached down to grab it. As he felt the familiar twinge of pain in his back, he heard her yawn and start to stir. He hurriedly snatched the can and clambered up the back to where she was sitting.

"Uh, excuse me, miss," he said tentatively. "Miss? Excuse me, but you have to wake up now."

It was obvious she had forgotten where she was. She had a wistful smile on her face as her dreams lingered on, and arched back into the seat like a cat stretching.

The elderly gentleman cautiously extended an arm and tapped her on the shoulder. "Hello? Miss, you can't keep sleeping here." He'd get in a fair amount of trouble if she did.

Reluctantly, she cracked open an eyelid, blinking slowly, and the other closely followed. Her vivid blue eyes quickly took in her surroundings, and all her peaceful daydreams evaporated as the penny dropped.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she gushed, as she sat up and hastily threw the iPod in her bag. "I'm so, so sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"It's quite alright, miss," the grandfatherly bus driver said with a smile. "No trouble at all. I just hope you know where you are now. Are you familiar with this part of town?"

"Uh. . ." she trailed off, looking out of the windows as she stood up. She felt like a complete idiot for falling asleep so soundly on this kind man's bus, and decided she didn't really need any more embarrassment today. "Of course I am. My mother lives near here." Now she just needed to get off the bus before he could pick up on the fact that she was blatantly lying – her mother didn't even live in this hemisphere, let alone this part of the city.

His eyes lit up with happy relief. "Jolly good. Well, I hope you enjoyed your ride." He stepped aside to let her pass down the aisle. "Have a nice day, miss."

As she was in such as rush, she was almost out the door by the time his words reached her, and so she simply turned around and waved back at him.

Stepping onto the footpath, however, the reality of her situation struck her. She had no idea where she was, and her only help was driving off towards the bus depot. Sighing deeply, she hitched her bag up over one shoulder and started walking down the street.

It was a rather bare neighbourhood, with fewer trees and shrubs than what she was used to. Tall apartment blocks towered above grungy concrete gardens, and the air seemed thick with smog. There were a few people here and there, and she guessed the majority of them were here to meet their dealer for their daily hit. What a wonderful neighbourhood.

She had to admit, though, she found it fascinating. She ambled down street after street, her initial anxiety dissipating as curiosity took its place.

After around an hour and a half of exploring this unknown industrial district, she turned onto one of the prettiest streets she had ever seen. Having seen no greenery for quite a while, the giant, ancient oak trees lining the road seemed even more majestic than normal, and she felt obliged to walk underneath them. All along the street were picturesque cottages, with front gardens brimming with flowers, buzzing with insects and bordered by white picket fences. As she strolled down underneath the towering trees, she couldn't help but feel like she'd travelled back in time, to a simpler, more fairytale-like time.

She stopped abruptly, and burst out laughing at such a ridiculous idea. Imagine travelling back in time – what a joke. She'd leave that to Dr. Who and Hermione Granger. She continued walking, and started to whistle a favourite tune of hers, 'Drive My Car', by the Beatles. For the first time since falling asleep, the day was bright and she was feeling awfully optimistic.

She soon realised that the narrow avenue was curving gently to the left and, after rounding the bend, that it ended in a dead-end. She didn't turn around, though, because what she saw at the end of the road fascinated her beyond explanation.

The entire street had led to a patch of mysterious, overgrown woodland. A pair of large, ornate, wrought iron gates were built into a moss-covered wall surrounding the little forest, and a gravel path, overrun with weeds, weaved its way through the wilderness. A plaque was on the wall, but on arriving in front of the rust-flecked entrance, she saw it was too faded to read. She walked right up to the gates, and peered through the iron bars. Threading an arm through the cool metal, she pressed up against the gate to get a better look of what it led to. Far off in the distance, she thought she could see a small building, but couldn't be certain.

She scrunched up her face in thought as she pondered what she should do next. The sensible thing to do would be to turn around, find a bus stop and get home. That's what her mother would've told her to do.

Screw that. Her mother was back home in Australia, and she was here, in London, on an Oxford scholarship. She could do anything. Today was a good day, anyway. She should make the most of it.

And so she gripped the gate firmly, and pulled herself up. Casting a cautious glance behind her, she threw her bag over the other side, and began to climb. It didn't take very long, but to her it felt like hours, and her heart thudded loudly all the way.

Dropping down onto the gravel path, she picked up her bag, and slung it back over her shoulder. The woodland was much more menacing from this side, and she stuck to the middle of the pathway, as far away from the vegetation as possible. There were no animal noises that she could hear, just the haunting sound of the wind blowing through the dry leaves of the neglected trees.

She followed the gravel further into the dark wood, and started to whistle again, picking up where she had left off, in an attempt to ward off her fears. After twenty minutes or so, she stumbled across the building she had seen before from the street. It was three storeys high, with ivy threading itself all through the aged brickwork, and all the windows boarded up. She walked up the front alcove, and knocked on the distinguished-looking front door.

The place felt so alive, she almost expected to hear someone call out in response, but heard only the knock echo throughout the little building. Her curiosity beating down her fear, she slowly tried the handle, and was taken aback when it obeyed her without complaint. Gulping down her hesitations, she pushed the door open and looked in.