A/N: I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SORRY! I've been working on this since I uploaded chapter 1! I finally finished it because I 1) got mad at myself for procrastinating, and 2) finally got an idea to make it longer. Again: I'M SORRY! I hope ya'll didn't leave me D:

"And then Paul fell off the stage!" John concludes his story. We all burst out laughing, except poor ridiculed Paulie.

"Oh,shaddup, Lennon. Like ya haven't had yer share o' embarrassin' moments," he defends his pride. He looks at George. "Remember that time when he-"

George's eyes light up. "Oh! With the-"

"-and that thing-"

"-and then he-" George erupts into giggles.

"Yeah, that!"

John glares at them while poor clueless Ringo and me look from face to face, utterly baffled. "What goes on?" I question, hoping to understand.

"Ye better not answer her," John warns, "Or I'll skin both o' ya!"

Paulie pouts. "Aw, don't be such a spoilsport, Johnny. We're just havin' some fun."

John rolls his eyes at his friend. "Yer face doesn't work on me like it does on the birds, Macca."

"Damn."

I lean toward George and whisper, "Are they always like this?"

"Only if there's a bird around. Gets 'em real territorial and stuff. Don' worry; This barney won't last long."

I look at him. "Barney?"

"A small fight. Ya didn' know that?"

"Oh, don't be daft, I'm not from the UK."

"Well ya seem to know quite a few words."

"Yep, and I'm quite chuffed about that."

"Blimey!" he grins. "Ey, boys, she knows what 'chuffed' means!"

"That's bull!" John argues, pausing his and Macca's quarrel. "That's purely Liverpudlian!"

I grin, quite proud (or, well, chuffed) of this accomplishment. John stares at me, eyebrows raised, as if he doesn't know what to make of me. Take a picture, it'll last longer. "I'm a Beatles fan, remember? Gotta learn me boys' old words!"

Paul stares at me quizzically. "Old words? Ye gotta be crazy..." He looks around my room once more. "...Ya know, I shoulda noticed this before, but... Yer room doesn't look anything like back home." He pauses. "Ye never told us where we are...or even when..."

My eyes grow. They'd never be able to take the truth. "U-uh, whyddya ask?"

"Because it's obviously not 1962, is it?" John points out harshly.

"U-um..." I stutter, trying to come up with some explanation. Unable to think of something, I sigh in defeat. "Ya really wanna know?"

"Yes," he and Paul state firmly.

"Don't freak out but... I-it's 2011."

Each face drops. Oh god, I knew I shouldn't have told them...

"2-2011?" George whispers, not believing his ears.

I nod a silent answer to his question.

"B-but that's not possible," Ringo mumbles. "There's no bloody way... I'm not old!"

"Well all of you are very hansom still." I can't tell them about George and John. Not yet, not like this. It'd be way too much for them. Too much for me.

"Oi! Are we-" (John)

"What do we-" (George)

"Am I a-" (Paul)

"Do I have a girlfriend!" (Ringo)

"No, no, no, no, no, no, NO! I am not answering these questions!" I cover my ears and shake my head, symbolizing my refusal. John pouts, trying to get me to give in, but I glare at him and he relents. Paul opens his mouth to say something and I shush him. "No. More. Questions."

"Fine..." John sighs.

"But I wanted to know if I have a bird or not..." Ringo grumbles to himself.

"Aw, don't fret Rings," Paul pats him on the head. "Ye probably got yerself a real nice one."

"Ya think so?" He looks up hopefully.

"Maybe," Paul shrugs. "It's not like I know the future." With that he looks at me accusingly.

I cock my eyebrow in reply. "I told ya Macca, no."

He gives an over exaggerated sigh and turns away. George smirks at us and chuckles to himself. "You two are just like children."

"More like an old married couple!" John, always the smartass, pipes in.

"Shaddup, Lennon!" Paul snaps.

"And why should I, hm? Yer not the boss of me!"

"BOYS! BOTH OF YA'LL SHUTTUP!" I intervene. George laughs and Ringo stares at me with those giant puppy-eyes again. Aaawww! Did I scare poor Ritchie?

John raises his eyebrows and grins. "She's got some pipes."

"I think I'd say so, too," Paul agrees. "Nice and, ow, loud." He teases by pretending that I injured his hearing.

I childishly stick out my tongue and cross my arms. "Meanie."

"I want a cookie..."

John, George, Paul, and I turn to face Ringo who's sitting on the floor. "Ringo," I say cautiously. "That was really random."

He looks up at us innocently. "Well you were fighting so I was thinking of nice things to focus on, and a cookie popped into my head because cookies are nice. It's really not that hard."

The other three Beatles sigh in exasperation while I burst out laughing. "Ringo," I choke out. "You. Are. Awesome!"

He grins at me, "Ya really think so?"

"Of course! You're so funny and adorable! How could you not be awesome?"

"Well, thanks! I think you're awesome, too!"

"Aw, thanks!" I sit down and hug him tightly.

"No problem, doll. Ya know, most birds don' really think of me like that," he admits sheepishly as he returns the hug.

"Well, they're mental then!"

He starts laughing and looks at me again. "I mean it when I say yer real gear."

I smile at him. "I mean it, too."

John, by now tremendously bored, interrupts. "Okay, okay, break up the love fest!"

"Don' worry, he's just jealous," Paul whispers loudly in my ear.

"Oi, I heard that, McCartney!"

"You were meant to!"

"You li'l bugger."

George plops down next to us. "Oh, don't start that again."

I giggle because that brings The Jungle Book to mind. He sounds just like the vultures, ironically modeled after The Beatles. Go figure. Thank god he assumes I'm laughing at the boys' barney (I like that word, I think I'll use it more often) so we avoid any more awkward explanations, or, well, more like lack of them. Paul and John continue like this for the rest of the night, constantly pausing their arguments when George, Ringo, and I butt in. All in all, it's pretty entertaining.

A/N: Yeah, I know it's kinda a stupid chapter, but I really couldn't think of anything! I'm sorry again! Review please!