Long time no update and I am so sorry! School has been murder and it's just hard to make time for writing when you've got tests, projects, and all that stress that comes with it. I'm sure you guys understand though. Also, George's birthday was yesterday (which kind of makes this chapter really off but still.) And I kind of have no idea what else to write up here sooooo Happy reading!~

Chapter 10

Saw Her Standing There

This was any but the average morning for Sandra. She was excited from the moment she woke up, and now that the door had made the oh-so familiar sound of rhythmic knocking, she was even more antsy. She was dressed in some of her best clothes. Not exactly a formal Sunday dress, but an elegant yet colorfully striped one that she had picked up just for this occasion. She rushed for the door, anticipating her birthday treat (even if that day was actually the Wednesday earlier that week.) Opening the door, four smiling faces greeted her. It seemed like forever since she saw them last, even if it was hardly a month.

In all the time since she first met them, Sandra mused, they must have only had one hair cut at the most. It had gotten longer on each of them, covering their ear and their bangs were now hanging down, almost touching the tops of their eyes. They dressed in usually performance suits and ties. While they were growing up, just like she was, some things were never going to change.

"All ready for the show?" asked Ringo, scooting back so that Sandra could get out of the house and lock the door behind her.

"As I'll ever be," she laughed, pocketing the keys and following John and Paul back down the set of stairs and out of the building. The weather outside was extremely nice. The little garden at the home across the street was finally blooming with lovely pinks and yellows. It looked like a quaint Easter scene, only a little late. It reminded her of the house that she saw when she first came to London, with all of the ivy that was growing on the fence, maybe even prettier. One day she would make it a point to have a place like that.

Prior to today, Sandra had written the four boys a letter with her new address and flat number. Luckily, they received it and wrote back saying they had a surprise for her when they were going to see her next, around her birthday. She felt guilty, being treated to a trip out without ever getting one of them a gift of some sort. Not that she was complaining though. She would just have to return the favor some day.

Sandra was now back into the same black car she had traveled in before, but this time there was no Mal or Brian and it was Ringo driving. The girl got in the passenger's side with the other three in the back. Maybe we can walk next time, she thought, with the nice weather and all. Her idea was struck down by the image of girls and press chasing down the street after the five of them.

"So when are your guy's birthdays?" she asked, looking at each of them from her seat. Now that she thought about it, would she actually be able to remember all of those dates anyway? John was the first to speak up.

"Well George's was three months ago," he said, then looked to Paul in the front, "His is next month. Ringo's is in July and mine's in October."

"I guess your mum wanted to save the best for last then," Sandra mused, hoping to make him happy. Based on the history of it, however Sandra would first act towards John in the car ride would affect his attitude towards her for the rest of the night. She had decided a while ago that her relationship with John needed to improve. Something made him significantly more difficult to connect with. Maybe it was the fact that he wasn't ordinary enought to read like a book like some people were. Or maybe it was because they already had conflicting personalities. Maybe she just wasn't meant to get along with him, but she would kill him with kindness if it became the only option.

A smirk played on John's lips which was good enough for Sandra. She turned to another idea she had to joke around with.

"So, Georgie-boy is twenty-one now, huh?" she asked, trying not to smile more than expected. The young man in question just nodded and took a drag off of his cigarette. Sandra caught some of the other boys' eyes then joked, "You boys are going to be making him pay for drinks from now on, aren't you?" There was laughter from three of the four. She definitely took that as a yes. Eventually, George gave in and chuckled.

In all honestly though, after looking him over, Sandra could tell that if any one of them was growing up, it was George. His hair had grown out and covered most of his particularly thick eyebrows and the ears that stuck out of his head. She found herself picking out other little things like his incredibly clear skin and the way his lips held the cigarette on his mouth. She looked away quickly, trying to forget how handsome he had become over the time of not seeing him. Or maybe he had always looked just like that but she was just now noticing.

Being three years older than someone and spending time with them wasn't too weird, was it? It couldn't be. Sandra wondered if George ever questioned being with someone three years older than him. Not to forget Ringo and John, who were the same as she was. Poor Paul; the middle child never gets any attention. She inwardly laughed.

It didn't take long until Sandra was sneaking into the auditorium from a side door. When inside, Sandra found herself in an overabundance of people. Nearly every row from the front up to the balcony seats held a girl (or occasional boy) that was chattering up a storm with the person next to them. Sandra went right were she was directed to, into one of the few empty seats in the front row. She was going to be able to see the performance closer than she could ever imagine. Sure, she had seen them in the recording studio, but this was a real live concert. The energy, the volume, the spirit. There was interaction with the crowd, and little differences in the sound of their voices because of it being live instead of recorded. All of these things would be out there for everyone to see and hear.

There was a woman sitting to Sandra's right, near the alile. She sat with her legs crossed and hands neatly in her lap with her dark eyes looking around absentmindedly from the stage to the people around her. Her hair looked much more like a flat out yellow than a natural blond. Dyes it maybe, figured Sandra. She was still very beautiful and poised sitting there. Sandra felt bad, like she should know this unspeaking woman, ever though she had no idea who it was. Well, she had one idea and some gut instinct told it was right. She asked, "Are you Cynthia?"

"Yes," the woman said, then having a wave of realization coated her face, "You must be Sandra. John told me I should be looking out for you." She had a smile on her pink lips. She and Sandra properly shook hands, and then proceeded to have small talk about the little things in life. They were leaning in close to each other, to hear the other over the roar of the audience.

"They should be on any minute now," said Cynthia and then, as if by magic, the men from the sound crew vanished from the stage. A man in a suit stood in front of the curtain and gave an introduction; the curtains behind him slowly began to separate. All hell broke loose even when it was just four instruments without people using them. In a second, the four boys sprinted out onto the stage, waving to the audience as a whole. Ringo positioned himself behind the drum kit while the other three pulled the guitar straps over their shoulders. Without a word the first chord rang out and the girls screamed again. Sandra went along with it for the fun but tried to control herself when she saw Cynthia only lightly clapping.

"Thank you," repeated Paul after the introduction set of songs. He tried to calm down the girls gently, and it barley worked. Behind him, the other boys were adjusting their instruments ever so slightly. He went on after the crowd finally died down, "Thank you so much for coming out to see us everyone!" More cheers. "We've got a couple of new songs for you today and we want to know what you think. John and I have been working on some new ones for our new LP." At this moment, John gave a huge, cheeky grin to the audience and wiggled his fingers in a wave.

"Now how about a song?" Paul's question, obvious rhetorical, was met with joyous screams. The four took their positions and began by playing some of the songs off of their older albums. Sandra quietly sang along and tapped her foot to the beat. She and Cynthia clapped at the end of each tune and made little comments about the boys' appearances or mannerisms; like how Paul was constantly changing the foot he was tapping, or how Ringo's bobbing head went at a speed completely different from what they were playing. There was more cheering and Paul once more took the microphone.

"Does everybody here know about that movie deal we've got ourselves?" he asked, to be answered with a majority of yes's, even though Sandra could distinctly hear George answer into the microphone, "No."

"Well John and I wrote this one for our good friend George here," Paul went on, opening his arms to direct attention over to the youngest Beatle. George, in turn, moseyed closer to the microphone and plucked a few sour notes before speaking.

"Thank you for that very nice intro there Paul," said George, his voice sounding naturally deadpan. He stared out into the sea of people, waving directly at a couple girls who screamed his name, and then continued, "And now, for the first time in front of living people, is this song. Clap along and all that good stuff if you feel it." He looked back to the other boys to make sure they were ready then gave a soft count off.

A cresiondo of music arose as an intro then the words played right into the melody. 'Before this dance is through, I think I'll love you too. I'm so happy when you dance with me.' Some kind of memory was coming back to Sandra while she was following the words. The song was brand new though, and she was pretty sure none of them had ever just casually played the tune out in front of her. 'If somebody tries to take my place, let's pretty we just can't see his face.' She knew what it was! That night the five of them went out dancing at that club. Some man tried to cut in during her dance and she made it a point to ignore him. Was there any chance this new song was connected to that night?

"He keeps looking at you," Cynthia leaned over and commented. She had her mouth behind her hand and was pointing up at George while keeping her other hand low to the seat. Sandra, whose eyes had randomly been fixated on the symbol on Ringo's drum set, looked up to George. His eyes darted away from her's the second she did this. He was looking at her!

"Are you sure?" Sandra said back, trying to deny the fact that he was looking and ignoring the feeling that her face was becoming flushed. They brought me here for my birthday, of course someone's going to be looking at me to make sure I'm having a good time.

"Pretty sure," mused Cynthia, "Are you and him together?" Again with that question, thought Sandra.

"No, we're just," she hesitated. She didn't mean to, but her mouth just stopped working. The last few chords were played and Sandra found herself, "friends."

Any number of Sandra's old friends would have gawked out how she stuttered, but Cynthia didn't say a single word. There was still a small smile on her lips as she looked back to the stage and clapped, but she didn't carry on with words. That won her a huge amount of points in Sandra's book.

After two more unrecognizable yet wonderful songs, the concert was over. Sandra rose with everyone else to give them a standing ovation. Girls all around were crying hysterics once more and yelling the names of the different Beatles. Sandra laughed to Cynthia and shouted, "Ringo!" recalling how he was he so called favorite. He was blowing kisses off of his hands to the crowd and the other boys just waved. They left the guitars and ran off the stage, the curtains closing behind them. One by one, the audience members filed out the back of the theater.

"I should probably get going," announced Cynthia when only few people were left here and there. "I promised I would take Julian off of my mother's hands before it got to late."

"Julian is...?" asked Sandra blankly, not knowing who that was and waiting for Cynthia to fill in the blanks.

Cynthia laughed, "Oh, my son, sorry." She held out her hand to Sandra, "It's been a pleasure meeting you. Maybe we'll meet up again sometime?"

"I sure hope so!" replied Sandra. "Wonderful meeting you Cynthia."

"Call me Cyn," she smiled as she headed for the back exit to find a cab ride home. Sandra waited a bit longer until all but one group of people remained and then darted for the side door. Once more she found her way to another little dressing room. Mal was lingering outside one of the rooms, so it was a no brainer which one they were in. She waved at him and went on in as he opened the door, peaking his head in first to make sure they were suitable. She greeted the four chipperly, this time not afraid at all to hand out a few hugs.

"You guys are too amazing!" Sandra raved, "I can't believe you got me a seat in the front row! Well-okay-I guess I can believe it, but still! That was definitely the best birthday gift I could ever imagine!" She had done her best to control herself during the performance, but she was done with that now. Her expression was as bright as the sun and the stars combined. She couldn't help but throw her arms around their necks again while in a fit of giggles. "If there is any way I can repay you guys, just say the word."

"Don't worry about that, love," said Ringo, "It was our treat."

Every girl's dream was playing out right before her eyes. At one point it was Sandra's dream as well, but now it was her reality. They were four boys that Sandraknew she cared about so much and she knew that they cared about her. With all that happened and was happening still, she really couldn't ask for a better group of friends. She decided to insist, "No, no, this was too much!"

"If you're insisting," stated John, sneakily raising an eyebrow. While they were sweet and great friends, Sandra thought, they were still men.

"Never mind," Sandra casually said, averting her eyes from him. She saw his wicked smile shrink when she was turning away. A few moments and a bit of an odd feeling later, she turned back around only to find John's face a few inches away from her's. She did a high pitched squeak then started lightly slapping him in the arm to get him away. He only continued to cackle and before she knew it, Sandra felt the hard collision of her stomach landing on John's shoulder.

"Put me down!" Sandra demanded, beating her hands on his back, feeling like a hunted animal. She was trying to seem genuinely angry with a frown, but that could easily be seen through like glass. She tried again, "John, come on! Everyone's going to be able to see up my dress! Set me down!" She regretted saying that.

"Look," exclaimed Paul, "you can see her knickers!" Everyone was laughing, except for Sandra. She didn't know if he was lying or telling the truth. He was standing close to her rear though.

"What color are they?" she mocked, sounding sure of herself. She shrieked again when she felt someone behind her pulling at the end of her dress. She tried to sit up and swat them away though she stopped when she figured she looked like a fish flopping around on land.

"Blue," Ringo reported, sounding pleased with himself.

Sandra grew silent and stopping moving all together. They were blue.

"Not as fun when they don't squirm," said John, finally setting Sandra down. She was in the middle of them crossing her arms.

"At least he didn't offer birthday spankings," Paul spoke up. John pretended to stroke a beard he didn't have as if he were deep in thought about the idea. Sandra cut him off before he could go any further.

"No way, no how," she said. This was a man with a wife and son, and he would sit here and have no trouble acting like a child himself. Did he still act like that at home? Enough about John, she told herself, going to sit down in the nearest chair. She was so glad that they were the only ones in the room for that whole fiasco. The boys pulled up chairs for themselves, near a corner in the back of the room. They carried on with talk, asking Sandra how she liked the new songs and informing her in detail about the movie they had been working on. She had only heard of it a bit at work, but the boys explained that they had been filming it for a while now and finished last month. The movie wouldn't be premiering until around July.

"Not ready to go home yet, are you?" asked Paul after a while of talking.

"Of course not," said Sandra, hoping he was genuinely asking and not that that was his nice way to say she needed to go home. Sandra noticed every one lighting up a cigarette and passing the lighter to the person beside them, to which Sandra took it upon herself to inform them like a teacher or a mother would, "That's terrible for your health."

"That means you don't want one?" figured Paul, an outreached hand offering over the pack. Sandra shook her head at him, not letting this be a repeated of giving in with the alcohol situation. She knew that the doctor's blamed Robert's pneumonia on his nasty lifelong habit of smoking. She didn't want to end up with something as life threatening as that anywhere down the road.

Paul retracted his hand, putting the pack away in his pocket. After just a while longer, Sandra found herself caught up in the plan to go out to a club once more. This building was much bigger than the last one, with brighter lighting and cleaner looking people. But it's still a club, Sandra told herself, There'll be flirting and drinking and dancing. A live band that she had never heard of before that was playing the kind of skiffle she had head of when she was quite young.

All of it seemed to be a very nice place, but when one random girl discovered the Beatles were here, all of the girls in the joint knew. Luckily, there was no screaming or attacks that were usually expected. The girls who were interested put on their flirtatious masks and almost tried to even seduce their selected target of the four. It mostly surprised Sandra to see that it worked, and now each of the boys had a girl (one of the more loosely dressed ones) dancing on in their arms. Sandra spent the first half an hour sitting by herself or dancing with a peroxide blond man who had introduced himself as 'Jimmy.'

With the night growing later, Paul had left with a girl he found and John had drunk himself into a fog. Sandra on a couple of occasions had to keep him from going a round (physically or verbally) with the barkeeper. As she sat, watching John carefully at a distance, someone else came up beside her.

"Care for a dance?" he asked, sounding confident in his request. Sandra couldn't help but smile up at him, taking the hand that he offered and being lead out onto the dance floor.

The fact that she would become exhausted or that the music was too fast for her liking didn't bother her. She didn't care that there would be seen by a huge amount of fans all around her. All that mattered right now was that she felt amazing dancing with George on, what was, the best birthday celebration she had ever had.

Lookit' all dat romance. No, I don't know, this is my first time writing a fic where that is adult romance situations and not just little teenage crushes, so bare with me here! Hope you enjoyed that and sorry for not having more to write down here, my brain currently isn't working...Let me know what you think with a review please?

Ciao~