Author's Note: A three part adventure of the Beatles not being musical... These three are the last of Emily's work I have saved, so I'll be getting on writing more of my own stuff afterwards!

Warnings for language.

Beatles Cops Part I

Place? The huge city of London.

Time? Just as night begins retaking the city into its shadowy clutches.

Who? Two young thieves and two young officers, the girls of the pairs both younger than their counterparts.

Why? Just shut it and listen already! Sheesh!

Anyroad…

The thieves were sprinting for their lives, one laughing hysterically, the other desperately trying to find a way to lose their pursuers.

Said law enforcers were hot on their heels, keeping up even when the absconding bandits purposely knocked rubbish bins in their wake to throw them off. The girl of the team calling for help as her shorter partner began to fall behind. They couldn't lose these criminals.

The girl thief grabbed her partner's collar and made a 180, running straight at the cops and nearly choking her cohort. They rushed the police officers, who were prepared to fire in self-defense, and ran past them over an alley gate and up a fire escape.

The cops knew they had been outdone this time. When the thieves took to the rooftops, they were never seen until the next heist.

With heavy hearts, officers Muenchow and McCartney returned to the station, and thieves Carda and Lennon lived to steal another day.

"Food, Ems, we have food!" John announced happily as he strode into their 'headquarters'. Which, in actuality, was a slightly modified abandoned subway station. Mostly the ticket and office space, to be exact.

EC threw herself at her partner, desperate to get as the delicious spoils of their last raid. Or, at least, what became of the spoils.

"C'mon, Johnny, give it 'ere!" she growled in frustration as she tried to get it from her friend.

"Ye gotta steal it from me first!" he teased.

"Tha's not fair! Ye're bigger than me, and I can't surprise ye anymore!" the urchin whined, her dirt-covered face contorting into a pout.

John just laughed, ruffling her already unkempt hair. "I know, love, here ye go." With that, he tossed the bag to her.

EC let out a squeal of joy as she caught the bag, delighted by the warmth and smell of the food waiting within. However, as she opened the bag, her Cheshire grin faded.

"Johnny… There's only one…" she said, pulling out a single foil-covered hamburger.

"I already ate mine," he said.

She turned and glared at him, knowing full well he was lying. He was about to defend his statement when an untimely stomach growl affirmed her suspicions.

" 'M not eating until ye do, John," she growled, putting the still-warm burger back in its bag and setting it on the ticket counter before crossing her arms, "And don't ye dare lie to me, Lennon."

John ran a hand through his dirty mop, sighing. No matter how well he could lie to anyone else, she always knew. He sat on the station floor, exhaustion and starvation getting to him.

"'M sorry, Ems, there wasn't enough for more. If those bloody cops hadn't gotten there, I might've gotten more, but as it is…" he trailed off, mostly blaming himself for the lack of loot they'd been making off with lately.

Suddenly, the larger half of a hamburger landed in his lap. He looked to his right to see EC contentedly eating the absent half.

He grinned and dug into their small feast as well. For the moment, all was well at their homely HQ.

"Bloody. Fucking. Hell," Officer McCartney growled into his desk, having slammed his head there in frustration. His partner, Officer Muenchow, ruffled his black hair from her seat on the desk and took another sip of her tea.

"They got away again, big surprise there," she said cynically, hopping off the desk and going over to rummage through her own desk, "Don't sweat it, Macca."

"How the bloody hell do they do it, anyroad?" he asked, head now resting in his hand, "Every time we get so ruddy close and then, POOF! They're gone! "'M at me wit's end, Moonie."

Courtney sighed. This case was wearing on her colleague, and it showed. His round eyes had bags under them, and his normally immaculate appearance had been replaced by one of almost constant wear.

Truth be told, she wasn't exactly unaffected by the case, either. Her normally bubbly, happy disposition had given to cynicism and sarcasm.

"It'll be alright, Paul. Ye'll see. We'll catch 'em next time," she said, retaking her place on Paul's desk.

"If we're not fired first," was his remorse reply.

Courtney sighed. "Coffee?"

"Please."

She rose to get the coffee, but was stopped by a man that flew into the office like he'd been shot from a slingshot.

"Mornin' all!" George Harrison cried gleefully. Geo was the resident rookie and the resident pencil-pusher.

"Geo," Courtney stated. It was too early for Geo's energized antics. Paul didn't even acknowledge the rookie.

"And I thought the chief was a terrible morning person," he said, grimacing at the sight of the two exhausted police officers.

Feeling a smidge guilty, Courtney tossed him a doughnut, causing the skinny man to drop his files in favor of the pastry before dashing off.

"They shouldn't let him near the coffee," Courtney muttered, taking another sip of her tea.

"They don't," growled her partner, getting up to gather the dropped files. In the middle of organizing the papers, he stopped dead.

"Moonie, look here!" he cried, gripping a sheet of paper like it was the only thing left in the world. His partner hurried over to look and there, on the paper, was a police file on John Lennon.

"'Arrested on charges of petty theft and suspicion of murder-' Paul, this is what we've been looking for!" Courtney cried, ecstatic at having found a new lead on their case, "This is the guy that's been stealing from the houses in Kensington!"

"Yeah, but who's always with 'im? And how's the bugger getting in? Those are some of the best security sy-" Paul started only to be cut off by a rib-crushing hug from his partner.

"Who gives a bloody damn? We found him! We bloody found him!"

In the hallway, George Harrison froze. He was supposed to keep those files safe! He couldn't let them catch John and EC; they'd be goners, no matter how clever they were! He needed to do something, anything… He needed to find John. And fast.

Meanwhile, in the thieves' HQ, it was EC's turn to keep watch… But keeping watch was incredibly boring. Nothing to do but sit and… wait… what was that?

EC hid in the shadows, listening to the quickly approaching footsteps, preparing to attack the intruder. At the appearance of a thin man, she pounced with a war cry that could raise the dead onto her victim.

The man screamed and fell to the ground, crying out in unmasked fear, "John! John, call 'er off! For the love of God, John!"

As John flew from his sleeping place, ready to beat whoever dared mess with his Ems to bloody hell, said girl had backed off the perceived intruder after noticing the use of John's name.

"George?" she said, hardly believing it, "Johnny, Georgie's back!"

John didn't know whether to feel relieved or even more worried. If George was here, that meant…

"John," he said, panic thick in his voice, "Something's gone wrong, very wrong."

George recounted the events of that morning, anxiety growing with every passing moment. EC was listening, chewing her stubby nails nervously, and trying to think of a solution to the new problem. John, however, was furious at George's mishap.

"How could ye be so bloody fuckin' careless?" he burst out, George shrinking a bit in fear, "Ye put me at danger, and worse, ye put EC in danger!" He was about to continue the enraged rant when EC stepped in.

"John, stop. Geo did good keeping those records hidden for almost two years, and was about to get rid of 'em for good."

"But-"

"But nothing," she said stubbornly, then softened her voice, "We'll find a way to get through, yeah? We always do."

Slowly, the fury died in John's eyes, replaced with hopelessness.

"I knew this would happen, sometime or another," he muttered, "I knew I couldn't get off scot-free."

EC bit her lip. Years ago, John had almost been blamed for her mother's murder, and rather than let her go into a foster family, he had taken her with him and taken care of her in the only way he could, not having parents or money. He'd been keeping an eye out for her ever since.

But John always felt the law would catch up with him, and although he only stole from those rich enough not to miss a few dollars, it seemed theft was still theft.

"Geo, time for plan B," he said, defeat heavy in his voice, "I'm off."

EC started to follow him and his heart broke. He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, then stopped.

"Geo," he finally stated, and George came up to take EC by the shoulders as John walked off.

"George? Georgie, where's he going? George! George Harrison, where's he going?"

George hesitated. "To make a plea bargain."

John ignored the screaming as he walked away, having to break out in a run to stop himself from turning around. This was going to end, damnit, and he wasn't going to drag Ems into it.

Paul was asleep, head on desk. Snoring, actually. First good sleep he'd gotten in a long time. At least, it was, until a loud crash awoke both him and Courtney, who had drank enough chocolate wine for a whole ship's crew in celebration of their lead, had crashed on the floor.

Paul, paper stuck to his face, dashed into the main room. Nothing was out of the ordinary, except for the remnants of the chocolate wine bottle.

"How did tha get way out 'ere?" Paul muttered, noticing something odd as he drew closer to the shards. In their midst was a small note, slightly stained by some leftover wine.

"Willing to make a deal. Meet me at Abbey Road, 1:00 AM. –JL"

Both were speechless.

Paul turned it over, seeing there was something on the back as well.

"No funny business. Just you two and me."

Both stood in silent shock, looking at this little wine-stained note. having just gotten a breakthrough in the case and now…this? What even IS this?

"I'm… I'm not still dreaming, am I?" Courtney whispered, studying the words.

Paul silently shook his head.

"Look," Courtney said, pointing at a line, "Says 'jus ye two and me.' The other isn't coming."

Paul studied the note. "Bet he's hoping to sacrifice himself for the other," he muttered.

"Can he do tha?" Courtney asked, worried that only one criminal would be brought to justice.

"Technically, yeah. But if one of 'em gives up, the other's likely to come running to break 'em out."

"Thick as thieves, eh?" Courtney said, still a bit intoxicated.

"Very punny, Moonie," he said as Courtney had a giggle fit, "tell ye what, ye go home, have a nice hangover, and I'll take care of the paperwork here, alright? Meet ye back tomorrow?"

"Okay, Paulie!" she said, still giggling a bit as Paul hailed her a taxi and told the driver where to go.

When Paul came back to the office, he began paging through one of the files Harrison had dropped earlier. It was a case file on a murder from seven years ago. A murder case. It seemed their thief was the main suspect for the case, and the victim had left behind a daughter that disappeared…

He knew there was no possibility that all of this was a coincidence. And if he was right, their mystery thief was very closely related to this case.

In the morning, the force decided that McCartney and Muenchow would indeed go and agree to the plea terms; however, if the other thief did attempt to rescue their partner, they would be arrested for breaking and entering, and likely prosecuted for their other actions as well.

Paul was nervous as hell. Everything had to be perfect. Courtney could have sworn he was going to give himself a coronary before they even got in the cruiser, much less to Abbey Road. Unlike her partner, she wasn't nervous, just determined. Paul had filled her in on the case and it seemed as though he'd be playing the bad cop, baiting the criminal into doing or saying something that would help prosecute him.

All was well. The two officers stood in the lamplight, waiting for their man to show, watching every movement, hands ready to grasp their guns at any second.

At 1:30, he finally showed, dirty mop entering the lamplight, his typical smirk plastered on his face.

"Decided to show, eh? I was beginning to worry," Paul said, pushing himself off the lamp.

John shrugged. "Fashionably late, and all tha shite," he said.

"So what's the deal here, Lennon?" Courtney asked, already a bit impatient with his actions.

John's smirk disappeared and his demeanor changed into a deathly serious one. "Ye lot can take me in, I'll plead guilty, save ye a lot of time and money."

"And the catch?" Paul asked, although he already knew what it would be.

"Ye let me accomplice go free," he stated.

"Funny how ye'd say tha, rather than a shortened sentence…" Paul said thoughtfully.

"Ye must be pretty close," Courtney stated.

John shrugged. "Doesn't this usually start back at yer little station place? When ye've got me officially in custody?" The smirk reappeared.

"Well, ye're a special case, Lennon," Paul said, taking a step forward, "Speakin of special cases, I'll bet ye remember one from seven years ago. As I heard it, ye were pretty important…"

"I dunno what ye're talking about," John stated, trying to keep calm byu telling himself that he'd done nothing wrong.

"Oh, I think ye do, Lennon," Paul said, knowing he'd likely caught the criminal off-guard with his knowledge of the case.

"Seven years ago, ye were pretty heavily involved in a murder case," Courtney pushed, "The prime suspect, as I recall."

John's smirk turned to a snarl. "I was cleared of those charges. Ye've got nothing on me for tha."

"Take it easy, Mr. Lennon," Paul said, a smirk across his own face, "We haven't even gotten to the interesting part in our story. Supposedly, a girl lost her mum in tha case."

"A girl nobody's seen since," Courtney finished triumphantly.

"And ye're saying she'd go with me, after I supposedly killed her mum?" John said, forcing sarcasm into his voice and trying desperately not to lose it completely.

"Went with, forced, kidnapped…" Paul listed off, watching closely for the impact of his words. John was a proud man, and likely would have asked Officer McCartney how he dared say he'd do anything like that to his Ems, but he was interrupted just as he opened his mouth.

"Ye lot get away from me Johnny, ye bloody arses!" EC had been sitting on a rooftop, watching patiently for the right time to strike a diversion.

At first, everyone was frozen at the appearance of the second thief, but John quickly recovered and ran as hard as he could into the shadows.

"Courtney, get John!" Paul yelled, already on his way up to the rooftop.

Officer Muenchow took off without hesitation after her culprit.

John didn't know alleyways, and found himself on the wrong side of a gate. He was trapped. Heart pounding, he heard the approaching footsteps of the officer and pressed himself against the bars.

EC was trying to find John, and attempting to lose Officer McCartney in the London rooftops at the same time. Realizing he must have gotten lost, she doubled back under a fire escape, putting some distance between them.

Finally, she found John cornered at the gate, Officer Muenchow about to apprehend him

"John!" she yelled, tossing down a steel cutter she kept for heists.

John smiled as he caught the device, knowing it was his ticket to freedom…

Paul, seeing the culprit slow to toss the item, put on an extra burst of speed…

Courtney, seeing something being tossed to John that looked like a gun in the darkness, pulled her own firearm…

EC, seeing Officer Muenchow's movement, screamed and jumped from the rooftop…

"John!"

"Freeze!"

BANG!

EC fell from the rooftop, to Officer Muenchow's shoulder, her arm making an audible crack as the officer and herself hit the pavement. He fall had altered the trajectory of Muenchow's bullet, which went straight through Lennon's back as he turned to work on the chain, and passing through his lung.

John cried out at the sudden white-hot pain as the bullet passed through his chest, falling to the ground as twin holes began to bleed, filling his lung and staining his already filthy leather jacket. Moaning in pain, he turned to see EC standing above Officer Muenchow, who was still on the ground, looking at him in total terror.

Struggling to get a good breath, he uttered only one word. "…Run…"

And EC did. She fled down the alleyway, noticing soon enough that her arm was broken and hurt like bloody hell.

Paul was shocked at the criminal's leap, and found himself unable to move for a moment. However, he was soon flying down from the rooftop to help his partner.

Courtney groaned in pain as she attempted to push herself up. The bloody maniac had managed to almost mangle her shoulder in her suicidal jump. Before long, Paul was at her side, helping her up.

"That wasn't a gun, ye bloody git!" Paul yelled, "Jesus Christ, are ye mad?"

Courtney moaned in response.

Paul sighed. "Congratulations, ye've managed to kill the man we've been tracking for months."

John coughed.

"Bloody fuckin hell."

John tried not to think about the thick liquid in his mouth. He just had to get to Ems. That's the one thing he needed to do. He wasn't aware of the set of hands that grabbed his shoulders, trying to keep him in place. He promised he'd take care of her. He promised.

"He won't. Stop. Moving!" Paul growled to Courtney, "He's making it bleed more! Goddamnit!"

Courtney was radioing for help, trying not to watch the almost spastic movements of the man she'd just shot.

"Courtney, ye gotta help me here!" Paul yelled as John struggled against him, still coughing blood.

Courtney limped over to John, having gotten her knee jammed into the pavement. She took the side of John's face in her hands, forcing him to look at her.

"Stop," she growled. Somewhat like one would do to a badly behaved dog.

Maybe it was he blood loss, maybe it was the authority, but he stopped. Ems was hurt and he couldn't protect her. He'd kept her safe for so long and now…

His vision began to go dark. He tried to focus on the blue eyes staring at him, tried to stay awake… but he couldn't. The last thing John Lennon saw that night were blue eyes, accompanied by sirens in the background.