A/N: LOVELIES! So I decided to be generous and give you chapter 2 because chapter 1 is just so short... So, here it is. Chapter 2 of Meredith McLennonstarrison...actually, I think I may end up changing that name, but to what? Haha. :) I'm so happy I finally decided to put this up here... I've written so much of it. Ugh. And I just love this story...UGH. Okay, I'm sorry. Read and Review! Enjoy! :) I love you my little lovelies!

Rating: T for swearing, possible...intercourse in the future... Yep.

DISCLAIMER: I (sadly) do not own the Beatles. Or anyone/anything associated with them. I also do not own Doctor Who or anyone/anything associated with it.

Meredith's POV

The Press Conference

I stood by a table of food. There was cheese, lots and lots of cheese. And crackers as well. No fancy dips or chips. There were bottles of coke as well. No, wait. Not "coke". Coca-Cola...wait, that's not it. They had pop. That's the word.

So, obviously, I'm struggling with learning the language of people in the 60s. They use words, you know, that are used as slang differently than the people of my time. Sometimes I can't help but just giggle, because a lot of the sentences sound silly.

I remember when I first met Paul. I had caught his eye, and he had invited me in his home for some tea. And no, he didn't make it the way I liked it, because he didn't know me yet, so no questions. Anywho, Paul and I were sitting at his table, and I was trying my best to stay calm. I mean, imagine yourself in love with an extremely talented (like Paul), extremely funny (like Paul), extremely handsome (like Paul), and extremely caring (like Paul) man, but you know you can't have him because he's old by the time you had fallen in love with him. Too old for you. I'm talking 50 year difference. You're about 20, he's about 70. But it's not the current him you're in love with, you're in love with that guy from when he was about 20. But you just know you can never have him.

That's the torture I went through when I fell in love with the young Paul. That was him in the 60s. I was in born in the 90s. I could never have him...

Now, anyway, you're imagining yourself in love with that impossible man. Your never. Suddenly, you befriend another guy, who happens to be a time-traveler. He takes you back in time to that time period in which your "never" lives in. You end up having to stay in that time era. Suddenly, you meet your impossible man, and he invites you to have tea with him. Imagine how you'd be feeling sitting with him.

Okay, that's me with Paul. Now, back to the story...

Paul looked at me, and pulled out a cigarette. "Want a fag?" he had asked me. Of course I was stupid enough to burst into laughter. From my time period, homophobes used "fag" as slang to insult someone, by basically calling them gay. Paul didn't know that, and he was simply offering me a cigarette. Oh Paulie...

So now you can try to imagine how hard it is to adjust to the 60s. I'm working on it though.

I observed the snack table, seeing all sorts of things. I grabbed a few plates and grabbed some random snacks, forming a bunch of different plates for the boys. I went around to all four of them and gave them their plates. Honestly, that's probably why they put me through the torture of press conferences: they can always count on me for getting some food for them. After I was done being their servant, I stood by Paul to hear what ridiculous questions the media would ask him. For some stupid reason, they were all asking questions about Jane. Which was fine, I guess, considering no one knew my actual purpose with the Beatles. They all saw me as a servant or slave or whatever. Yippie.

Losing my interest in all of the Jane questions, I turned around to find that George had been standing back to back with me. I grinned and hugged him around the waist. "Oh, Georgie, you're the best girlfriend I've ever had," I smiled, not giving a shit whatsoever about what the hell the press would think.

George, who was much taller than me, turned and looked down. "Oh, Meredith, you are by far the loveliest boyfriend any girl could wish for." He hugged me with a laugh. We got weird stares from the press.

I stood straight. Pointing back in forth between George and I, I told the press, "We're not dating..." I shook my head.

"Nope," said George. "Just a joke. That's what best friends do." He nodded. I nodded in agreement.

"Alright, alright, we believe you, don't fret," A lady said. "But tell me, she is no servant?" She pointed to me with her pen. I frowned.

"No, we like her, she's like our cat," John said, coming into our circle of people. He sounded like a drunken chipmunk, although he only made the voice for his own entertainment.

"Then why does she always get you boys food?" The lady protested.

"Because you people don't let them boys get a chance to munch down on some things!" I said, facepalming.

The lady began giving an argument on all the evidence of me being their personal slave, as George and I were suddenly facing each other and silently talking, seemingly mocking the woman.

"Her!" said the voice of a man, coming from Paul's direction. I turned to see a reporter pointing at me. Paul's face looked a little worried.

"No, no, no, no, no..." He shook his hands, turning to the man. "I never cheated on Jane with anyone, and I told you that!"

I was then fully next to Paul, glancing between him and the man. I felt George's presence behind me. I felt surrounded by a wall of taller men. Oh wait, I was.

"But she's always next to you and following you around. She goes everywhere with you guys. I suspect that there was a relationship between you two while you were still with Jane." The reporter crossed his arms and nodded his head firmly.

"No!" Paul said. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe, just maybe, Meredith and I had started our relationship after the breakup with Jane, which was over a year ago?"

The press. They looked at me. Then at Paul. Then back at me. My face burned. I glanced up at Paul, who looked like a deer in headlights. The whole room was silent. Everyone had heard what Paul said. Everyone had realized what he really said.

In my head, I was screaming. Screaming at Paul to somehow reverse what he said, but his face stayed still. I heard him swallow. I nudged his arm, urging him to say something to fix it. He looked down at me then back at the man. "If we...were." He said. I could tell he felt pained to say that.

"Uh-uh, no." said another woman. "What the hell is going on here?" She looked at Paul and I.

"Oh, nothing, just being criticized by a bunch of reporters who think they know our lives better than we do," muttered George from behind me. I noticed that I had been leaning back on him, and he had just been naturally holding me up as he stood there.

In effort to get away from Paul a little, instead of clinging to him and supporting the media's side of the case, I leaned back on George more. They knew we were best friends, so they couldn't think wrongly.

George put a hand on my shoulder and gripped it tightly. I was tapping my foot rapidly, making it obvious that I was nervous. I wanted Paul and I to have a very private relationship, not a public one! I was practically having an anxiety attack. George's grip turned into a strong massage, in attempt to calm me.

I heard him whistling and I turned my head back at him. There was the face he made whenever he would whistle. Oh my, it was funny. He was whistling a song he and I once wrote in the car while on the way to a restaurant. The song was about food, of course. And it was the funniest song ever.

I giggled and turned my attention back to the group, who, including Paul, was staring at me. "Uh...hi."

Paul sighed, glancing down. It brought my attention to his hand, that was by his side, but secretly open and waiting to be filled. I finally pulled myself away from George, his hand slowly and lightly coming down from my shoulder and falling by his side, and I slid my hand into Paul's, lacing my fingers with his.

His warmth.

There were murmurs coming from the press. Paul took a deep breath. "Alright, so Meredith and I are indeed dating." He confessed, and squeezed a prayer into my hand. "But I did not cheat on Jane with her. I met Meredith after my breakup with Jane. Now, it's been a year since that breakup. Can you all please just find something else to worry about? Please?"

And so it ended with that.