Author's Note: This had to be done. This chapter is completely irrelevant to the plotline but I felt it just HAD to be written. I apologize if it kind of sucks but it was another last minute thing. Anyway, the reason I was so intent on adding this to the story can be summed up to one thing: the amazing John Lennon's birthday. I swear I almost cried when I saw the new Google theme for him. I'm such a sap. Anyway, I had the urge to do something for the day so here's this. I'll also probably listen to every single one of his songs or go to the cool Beatles tribute thing going on. Are any of you lovelies doing anything to celebrate the birth of this genius? :) So yeah, here's the next chapter and I hope you enjoy the wonderful song I put together somewhere in there.

Happy birthday, John, we love you! (heart)


John trudged up the walkway to his home, feeling a heavy weariness sink into his overused muscles. Today had been an exhausting day. The lads were required on the movie set for an obnoxiously long time but he had been allowed to leave early in order to promote his new book. Unfortunately, he had been hassled about that. Everyone thought he was choosing his writing over the band and the movie.

"Aye, are we not important to you?"

"I see how it is. The band means nothing to you anymore."

"That's not fair! We're working all day and he gets to leave and take a breather!"

He bit back an angry retort to each of those accusations and nodded curtly to them all before taking his leave. One would think simply promoting a silly little book wouldn't be that bad but the truth was, it was excruciating. Being a Beatle did not help in the least. The hope he had of a nice quiet reading or interview was wise in theory but highly impractical.

Sighing, he turned sleep-starved eyes to the sky. There the sun dangled low above the city. Whatever higher power there was used that exposed area to paint an abstract image of dancing ribbons gleaming red and gold crisscrossing among the heavens. John happily observed the vision before entering the house.

"Surprise!"

He blinked rapidly, eyes slowly adjusting to the sudden brightening of the room. A group of people were assembled, grinning widely at him.

"What's going on here?" he asked suspiciously.

"Daddy's birthday!" Little Julian waddled over, his arms outstretched in an attempt to bring his father closer. "Happy," he smiled once he was settled in John's arms.

"It's not my birthday, dear," John replied with a kiss to the tip of his son's nose.

"'Course it is," Ringo beamed and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Happy birthday, mate."

"Really, what's going on?"

Annie approached and reached for Julian, who happily jumped into her arms. "We were having arts-and-crafts time and he wanted to draw you something."

"And he insisted on making this," Paul added handing over a paper covered in bright images. A slow grin spread across John's face. Smack in the center was a large figure he assumed was him done in green squiggles. Around that were varied sized misshapen circles floating about that must have been balloons. Several blobs with dots for eyes were positioned near more colorful blobs. It was a child's idea of a birthday scene.

"Birthday, daddy!" Julian chirped enthusiastically.

"So happy early birthday, John!" Cristina announced, jazz hands and all.

"Why are you all going along with this?" John asked with a chuckle.

"We thought it'd be fun," George answered, shrugging. "Besides, who wants to wait until October for their special day?"

John smirked. "I see. Alright, then, where're me presents?"

Cristina boldly stepped forward and thrust another paper in his face. "While Jules made that I did this."

John raised his brows and carefully unfolded the sheet. What he saw astounded him. It was an intricate sketch of him wearing his glasses, guitar in hand. He recognized the outfit from something he wore the other day. Everything was just perfect, even the thoughtful facial expression.

"Wow, Cris, didn't know you had it in you!"

She smiled sheepishly. "Don't you ever have those moments where you look at something and you immediately think its art? That it's something that has to be put down and frozen in time? Well I hate to admit it but you looked nice that day so I just had to get it down."

"I always look nice."

"Oh hush, you."

She was instantly stunned when he pulled her in for a hug. That kind of thing wasn't really normal for John Lennon.

"Thanks, I really appreciate it."

"You're welcome," she responded in a daze. She looked to Annie who was laughing silently into Julian's hair.

"Well what's next?" John asked once he released the still shell-shocked Cristina.

"Um," George began uncertainly. "Me, Paul, and Rings sort of came up with this." He glanced over his shoulder at Paul who had just grabbed both of their guitars. Ringo positioned himself behind a table, two spoons in hand, and they were set. They began playing a familiar tune with a new set of lyrics.

Happy birthday, yeah, yeah, yeah
Happy birthday, yeah, yeah, yeah
It's your birthday, yeah, you really should be glad
You know you're such an ass
But even though we still
Couldn't let this moment pass
Because you're almost halfway over the hill
But it's not really your birthday
But we thought you'd like to know
That we love you enough to put on this show, oooo!
Happy (not) birthday, yeah, yeah, yeah
Happy (not) birthday, yeah, yeah, yeah
It's (not) your birthday, yeah, you really should be glad
We don't know what else to say
But you get the idea
So enjoy your not-birthday
And eat a brilliant tortilla!
Because it's not your birthday
So enjoy it while it lasts
It's not your birthday
And hopefully you won't be in a cast!

The song went no further for everyone was suddenly in hysterics. John clutched his sides as he laughed at the ridiculous words that actually came out of his friends' mouths.

"'Eat a brilliant tortilla?' What the hell?"

"It was a last minute thing, you should be glad we came up with anything at all!" Paul said, trying not to laugh himself.

"I personally thought it was a great song," Ringo said.

"Here, we wrote it down so you could treasure it forever." George handed him another paper.

"Thanks, my life is now complete!" John said with a playful roll of his eyes. Then he turned to Annie. "Where's your present?"

"I am a present in myself, Lennon."

"Yeah, okay."

"Let's put these up!" Cristina suggested happily as she grabbed the papers from John. "Look, this is you working on some platinum record you all are bound to put out." She gestured to her picture and handed it to Paul to hang on the wall.

"And this is said platinum record," George grinned as he took the (horrible) birthday song.

"And this is you when the world ends!" Annie interjected, shaking Julian's picture in his face for dramatic effect. He laughed and swatted her away.

John sat himself at the dining room table and surveyed his surroundings. Paul and Cristina were bickering over something as they tried to determine how to display the pictures for all to see. George and Ringo were laughing and producing random beats and chords. His eyes lingered a little bit longer on Annie as she played with Julian and clapped when he told her a story he made up on his own. In an odd sort of dysfunctional way these people were his family. He had spent most of his life so far trying to find that and in a shocked realization, it dawned on him that these psychotic people were exactly that.

So what if it wasn't really his birthday? The fact that they banded together on some whimsical idea brought upon by his young son meant that they truly cared for him. He smiled faintly. Having friends that would subject him to some ridiculous event and serenade you with a crap song was what made life enjoyable. Honestly, he couldn't imagine living without them. It would be like living life in peace. What fun would that be? No, a peaceful existence would be nice. He may be a dreamer, yes, but a world where everyone lived as one would be pleasant. But at this moment that was rather irrelevant.

His attention snapped back to those around him as Cynthia entered the room carrying a cake on a tray.

"Not you too?" he asked in faux horror.

"Yes, the false-birthday miscreants got to me!" She giggled and presented the delicacy before him. "I was making it anyway so I figured I'd adjust it to go along with today."

John smiled and grabbed her hand before she pulled it away, lacing their fingers together. "Thank you, Cyn."

She grinned back at him and lightly traced a thin finger through the cake frosting. He watched curiously as she raised the unclean finger and tapped it on his nose. The others began laughing again but Cynthia stayed silent as their eyes remained locked.

Little by little she leaned forward and placed her lips against his cheek. When she pulled back there was a mischievous glint in her eye.

Maybe this birthday thing wasn't so bad.

"Happy birthday, John," she whispered.

Time seemed to slow in that moment but now everything was sped up once more. Around him everyone was bustling about, chatting and attempting to get a slice of Cynthia's homemade double chocolate fudge dessert. Many thoughts were mulling about in his head as he celebrated his not-birthday but only one really stood out:

You know what they say- the first mouse gets the cheese. But the early birds get the cake.