Instead of finishing my essay, my stories will be updated tonight! (Woo woo!) Sorry for the empty promises and the delays, but here we are!

Enjoy & review! x


"Daddy?" Allie cried as George put her to bed. "Why did Mat and Leo go? Why aren't they coming back? I miss them."

"I know you miss them, but what'd I always tell you?" he asked with a sad smile. "Straighten up, little soldier. Dry those tears. What're you crying for? You've got me." She hugged him tightly and he let her dry her eyes on his jacket.

"Okay, Daddy," she said shakily. She gave him a smile that he could tell was forced. She was going back home the next morning and though she didn't let it show, she was devastated. Instead of letting himself feel guilty, he quickly gave her a kiss and exited her room. Prudence, who had come to the city for the night and the next morning, gave him a nod as he left the hotel suite to celebrate Paul's birthday at a new club.

"George," Paul said as they climbed in the waiting car. "I had Brian invite that bird you had your eye on." George's face flushed and Paul smirked. "What? You thought nobody would notice?"

"Didn't know it was that obvious, was all," he mumbled. Paul shook his head and grinned.

"She's a cute one, isn't she? Wouldn't really peg you as one for blondes, but hey! Every dog has its day, eh?" he leered.

"Shut up." Paul laughed loudly and they rode the rest of the way to the club talking about different things. Soon, they reached the party. Reporters and photographers swarmed the club, shouting for George and Paul. They posed for a few pictures before they were rushed into the building. John, Ringo, Charlotte, Belly, and Miranda greeted them and gave Paul his presents. Paul was surprised that even Charlotte gave him a gift because she seemed to dislike him.

When everyone went to dance, George stayed seated and was casually scanning the crowd at the club for Emily. His heart fluttered a bit when he saw her dancing and laughing with Charlotte and Miranda. She wore a form fitting tan dress with a white collar and white high heels. Her pretty red lips were stretched into a smile as she moved to the music.

George tapped her shoulder and she spun around, making her curled blonde hair bounce a bit. She stopped dancing and put her perfectly polished hand on her slim hip. She smirked and raised an eyebrow at him.

"Miss Ambard," he said casually. He subtly ran his eyes along her slender body. She nodded in acknowledgement.

"Mister Harrison," she responded. He offered his hand happily.

"May I have the next dance?" he asked. She tapped her chin as Charlotte and Miranda, already rather drunk, draped an arm around Emily's waist and shoulders.

"No can do, I'm afraid!" Charlotte said. "We've got her for the rest of the night!"

"Is that right?" George laughed.

"Yep," Miranda grinned. "You took your own sweet time, George! You missed out on a dime, you did." Emily laughed and untangled herself from her new friends' grasps. She crossed her arms and looked at George.

"And just why should I dance with you? We're no more than strangers, you know," she reasoned.

"We all start as strangers, don't we?" he said, leaning close to her. He could smell her soft scent of wisteria blossoms. The lights in the club were so bright that they dimmed the stars in Emily's eyes. "I don't really want to dance."

"Oh. To each his own, I suppose," she said, turning back to her friends. George grabbed her hand and smiled winsomely.

"What I was going to say was that I would rather grab some food. Wanna hit the road?" he asked. She tried to hide a smile, but it shone through.

"Let me get my jacket." As soon as they got their coats, George hailed a cab and they rode to one of his favorite diners. They talked long after they'd finished eating. He found that Emily was very funny and could slip in quips in the midst of conversation that would make anyone laugh.

Her curls had fallen out and her eye makeup was smudged a bit, but he couldn't stop looking at her. Her pale skin, like porcelain, glowed beneath the fluorescent diner lights. Their words touched and their cheeks were red—Emily's from rouge and laughter, and George's from being flustered. Her painted lips curved and her scarlet smiles were slipped in between sips of coffee. Every slight move she made, whether it was rubbing her tired eyes, pulling a strand of her hair, or running her lips across the warm rim of the coffee mug, made him want to smile.

When he saw her demure grin, he didn't want to take her back to his hotel and be with her. He wanted to sleep with her in the simplest way there was. He wanted to lie next to her at six in the morning, his hand locked in her soft, warm ones and their legs intertwined. He wanted to feel her face buried in his neck and he wanted to listen to her breathing.

He wanted her to wake up and tell him that she was tired because he wanted to whisper "Go back to sleep" and hold her tighter as she did. He wanted to lie alone in bed with her in the comforting quiet hours of the early morning and watch her as she slept.

They laughed and talked for another hour and a half before Emily asked what time it was. He informed her that it was a quarter past one in the morning. Her face paled and she quickly gathered her things.

"I've got to go," she said, completely panicked. George grabbed her wrist.

"I can't let you go home alone," he argued. "It's too late. C'mon, you'll just stay the night in a spare room of ours." She shook her head seriously.

"No, I need to get home," she worried. "Or at least use a phone. Fast." He led her to a payphone a leaned on the booth as she murmured into the receiver. When she emerged, she looked at him apprehensively.

"You're sure it's alright for me to spend the night?"

"Absolutely." He hailed a taxi again and they rode back to the hotel which was about a half an hour's drive away. Emily looked out of the window as George nonchalantly looked at her.

"Curious?" she asked suddenly. He held his ground and nodded. "Shoot."

"How old are you?"

"Nineteen and a half," she said confidently. "You're twenty-one." His eyebrows shot up.

"And how-,"

"I have my ways," she said with a wicked grin. He leaned over and kissed her quickly. As he pulled away, Emily's eyes widened. He smiled to himself and looked out the window just as she had moments before.

When they pulled up to the hotel, George looked around carefully before pulling Emily out and rushing through the door to the lift. They rode in silence. It wasn't uncomfortable because they stole playful glances when the other wasn't looking.

They had arrived well before the others and, much to his surprise, Allie instantly attacked George's legs.

"It's too late for you to be up," he scolded immediately as he scooped her up.

"I had a nightmare," she yawned, laying her head on his shoulder. "I wanted to sleep in your bed." She glanced at Emily curiously. "Hi."

"Hello," Emily waved. Allie yawned again.

"Guess I'm a little tired," she said.

"I know." George glanced over his shoulder to Emily. "I'll be right back." She nodded and waited patiently.

"Daddy, can I sleep in your bed tonight? I don't want to have another bad dream," she said.

"No, you'll sleep better in your own bed. Go to sleep and I'll see you in the morning." As soon as her head hit the pillow, she drifted off and George snuck quietly out of the room. Emily was looking around the room pleasantly and smiled at George as he walked in. Her blonde hair was falling into soft waves now that so much time had passed.

"The night is still young," she grinned.

"Want to get a drink?" he offered. She nodded and took his offered arm. They went to the bar and laughed and talked for a while longer. When George looked into Emily's soft eyes, he saw flecks of hazel that almost exactly matched Matilda's. The thought of her and how abruptly she'd left made him sick to his stomach. In the back of his mind, something told him how much prettier Emily's eyes were anyway.

When he walked her to the spare room to say goodnight, he stared after he sadly. He should've kissed her before she went inside and told her how happy he was to have spent so much time with her. Instead, he went back to his room and looked through his jackets until he found the one he was looking for.

In the pocket, there was the picture that Prudence had caught him looking at. It seemed like he had last seen it a million years ago. He thought of Emily and the warm feeling that he got when he touched her. He gave the picture on final, longing glance before he took out his lighter and burned it in the sink. The last haunting image was Matilda's smiling face disappearing into the flames.