I'm soooooo happy that I'm finally letting myself update fast again. After those crazy few weeks, I have this weird period of free time that I thought I would never see again. Funny how that works, isn't it? Don't you think it would be MUCH easier if everything was all balanced out? I should take that up with Mr. P. Anyways, I'm gonna change things up a little bit for this chapter and make half of this in someone else's POV. I actually love my character because she is SO easy to write for (seeing as A.J. is practically me, add a few inches on her height and, unfortunately, take out meeting the Beatles) but I need this chapter to be as someone different, seeing as this very important side of the story is not A.J.'s to tell. And, yes, it has to do with John being a grandfather. Though, I must say, now that I look back, I wasn't being too original. All credit for the daughter idea goes out to Eliza March, whose story (Daddy's Girl) is SOOOO sweet…except Jeanie isn't really a main character. But, whatever, it is a little bit different, but I don't want Eliza March to think that I was stealing her idea. I would absolutely HATE if someone took my idea and didn't give me any form of credit for it. Thanks for being an amazing author Eliza! Now…you guys ready for an intense chapter? Ooookay…chapter seven!

They played most of the day, ending the session at around three o'clock. I felt like I was literally living my dream. Except for this was a slightly deranged dream, where John was my biological grandfather and he hated me…not that it wasn't mutual. I found that the entire time I was watching them, my eyes kept wandering from the other three to John. Not that he looked at me once the entire time. Everywhere but me, in fact. I wondered if he could have possibly heard…? No, that was impossible.

Oddly enough, after I had gotten over the initial shock, I was strangely comfortable with the fact that John was related to me. I mean, it was still weird, but I had never thought of him in a way that you are NOT supposed to think of your grandpa. It's not like it directly affected me…well, sorta, but I was choosing not to think of it like that. I could survive, couldn't I? After all, I had been through a LOT worse.

I sighed heavily, watching them pack up their things. While they lingered on the other side of the room, I meandered over to the abandoned piano, which had remained unplayed the entire day. Sitting down at the bench, I ran my fingers over the smooth white keys, all the while glancing over my shoulder to make sure nobody was watching me. I had learned how to play the piano in fourth grade, wanting to play "Hey Jude" for the Talent Show. My mother, ever the musician, had taught me everything I knew. I guess she got that from her father….

I took a deep breath, not wanting to think about it for just a couple minutes. To just escape from my head, to flow along mindlessly with the soft melody of the notes. I closed my eyes, and, thinking no more, let my hands take me away.

I don't know what tune I started out playing, but I was sure it wasn't "Let It Be". That was what it turned into, however. It was an irresistible song, one that you just want to sing with all your heart. I started out just humming, then, forgetting that I was in a room with the Beatles themselves (I really do get lost in the music sometimes), I started to sing. I jumped about ten feet in the air when I heard a voice behind me.

"That's a nice tune-"

"AHHH!" I swung around, facing him, and started blushing furiously. "I'm sorry, Paul, you scared me."

He nodded, eyebrows raised and eyes wide. "Yeah, I can see that."

"Yeah…sorry."

"Why?"

"I screamed."

"It happens all the time." He waved a hand airily. "I'm used to the screaming by now."

"That's not why I screamed."

"Sure."

"You scared me!"

"So I've heard."

"Well…yeah."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Paul shook his head with a light smile, his hair flopping around madly. He motioned for me to slide down the bench, which I did, and he sat next to me. "You seem pretty good at that."

"That?"

"Piano," he replied, gesturing to the keyboard. I flushed again, though I don't know why. It felt sort of natural to be sitting here on this bench with Paul McCartney, though it really shouldn't have. Didn't I have a HUGE crush on Paul? Yes, I realized, I had a crush on Paul. But that wasn't Paul, that was just the Paul that was in the Beatles. This was Paul McCartney, the person. And, I figured, that was why it was different. Could I DEVELOP a crush on him? Sure, why not? But right now, I didn't like him like that. I hardly even knew him, if I thought about it. I just knew about him.

"I learned a while ago."

"Me, too." He ran his fingers over the keys as I had done, relishing their smoothness, probably. That was my favorite part of the piano; the keys.

"Really?"

"No." He grinned down at the keyboard, then quickly glanced up at me. "Do you want to hear a song? I don't know much of it, but I've been working on it for a while."

I slowly nodded, not needing to say anything at all. He took a moment to find the right keys with his fingertips, and then pushed down, creating a chord. Then, he started into a familiar song, weaving in and out of the melody. It was so familiar, yet I couldn't put a name to it. Maybe something was different….

He ended the song, and I realized at once what it was. A light bulb popped over my head. "Here, Paul. Why don't you…."

I counseled him through it, and eventually we ended up with the full version of "Yesterday" that I was so accustomed to. Usually, this song was played on the guitar, but I had read somewhere that Paul had come up with it on piano. After reading that, I promptly bought the sheet music and learned the song. Lucky thing, too.

"You're really good at this," Paul commented after playing his new song in full for the first time. "You wouldn't happen to be a lyric writer, to, would you?"

I giggled lightly. "That, my friend, is where the talent stops. I can write stories, sure, but I never could write song lyrics."

"Oh, A.J., something tells me you're a girl of many talents." He smiled brightly down at me. God, what a cute smile he had.

"That would be stretching it," I admitted, looking down at my hands. "The only thing I really understand in my life is music. I can't see him to figure anything else out." I don't know why, but I felt like I could tell him these things. Like he would never judge me.

He nodded solemnly. "You don't know how much I can relate to that one." He looked like he was about to say something else, but changed his mind. "You know what?"

"What?"

"I think I'm gonna write a song about you. This song, as a matter of fact."

Uh-oh. Look what you did now, A.J.! Paul is going to name "Yesterday" something different, and then it won't be a classic! Wait…didn't that one come on in '65? So I had a little bit of time to persuade him to change it back. Wait! What was I saying?! That was three years from now (or then, or whatever. I have no idea what to call it)! I wasn't going to stay here that long! No, by the end of the day I would be with Doctor Ryan (I guess he was really no longer my grandpa) and have him get me outa here.

"Uh…really?"

"Yeah. But I'm terrible with the lyrics. That's always been John's field, honestly." He traced one of the black keys with his pointer finger absentmindedly.

How could I convince him not to do that, flattered as I was? "Well, it's kind of a sad song, don't you think?" I watched him carefully, trying to read his mind. A sudden smile dusted his child-like features.

"Well, Miss A.J., would I be wrong to assume that you've made quite a few people sad in your lifetime?" He grinned cockily, because I couldn't very well say 'no' to that one. Damn, him!

"I think the same goes for you, if you change 'people' to 'girls'. Would I be wrong to assume THAT one?" I retorted, smiling as he narrowed his eyes.

"You…I…." He didn't seem able to find the right words for a comeback.

"Exactly." I gloated, hoping he knew full well that this was an unsaid victory for me. "And by the way, it's your song. Don't ask John for help; you created this one all by yourself."

This, I knew, was what was going to happen in a few years, anyways. So maybe I had sped up the process a little bit. What's the difference? I just couldn't resist helping him out.

"I don't know…" he muttered, air-playing his new song over the keys. He seemed lost in it for a few seconds, and I thought I should probably leave, but just as I was thinking about getting up, he looked up at me. "You know, A.J., I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

But back then I didn't know how right he was.

~~*~~

"JEANIE!" I bellowed, plowing through the nearly packed club for what seemed like the millionth time this week, but was only really the second. "YOU GET BACK HERE RIGHT NOW, GIRL!"

Some people glanced my way, and I was probably a humorous sight to see, but I paid them no mind. I wished, yet again, that I had grown a little bit taller in my lifetime, but so far none of the wanting had done me any good. I was still stuck at the same 5'1 ½'' I had graduated eighth grade with.

Through a gap in the crowd, I could just make out a mop-topped head, and immediately ducked down a little bit, praying that it was not John. That would make this whole situation ten times worse. Ever since I told Jeanie that we were not allowed in the Cavern Club, she had been trying to make a break towards it. Last night she happened to make it all the way in, a rare but serious feat. I don't know why she wanted to be here so bad. Damn that rebellious child. Then again, she could just feel that natural draw to it…to him.

Suddenly, I heard the tinkling sound of her laughter, and bolted in that direction, my head still down. With my eyes to the floor, I could just see the backs of her tiny feet disappearing in front me of me. I was way too scared to risk putting my head up, though the crowd would most definitely cover my minute frame if I did so.

Just as I had made up my mind to reach out and grab her, the crowd ran thin and I realized that I must have made it to the centrally located bar. I stooped and glanced around for any sign that she was still hiding about the adults, but she seemed to have vanished in thin air. Sighing, I straightened myself and reached an arm out to steady myself on the bar top, not even glancing at my intended target. Needless to say, it was not the bar I ended up touching.

"Hey!" the guy shrieked when I didn't immediately remove my palm from his chest. The truth was, I was WAY too terrified of the person that the voice belonged too. Hoping against all odds that I hadn't heard correctly, I slowly swiveled my head around. My worst fears were confirmed.

"I said, hey!" he repeated, swiping my hand off his body with the look of the utmost disgust. "I believe you lost this." He pointed to Jeanie, who was beaming up at me from the edge of his knees, making her chubby, freckled cheeks push against her eyes. She really did look just like him in the eyes. If only he would smile at me again like he used to….

I jolted myself out of my memories, scooping my daughter from his lap and slinging her onto my right arm. "Thank you," I said stiffly, totally unsure of what to say. He regarded me with that same loathing look.

Neither of us said anything. He was too busy glaring at me, daring me to say something else, and I was too busy being scared out of my mind. Not in front of my daughter, I chanted. Please don't say anything.

"So the bastard didn't even marry you?" he inquired, inclining his head towards Jeanie. Jeanie smiled back at him merrily. Great, that's nice John. Way to bring that up.

'No, you didn't' was what I felt like saying to him, but I knew that would only cause a whole other argument, and I didn't need that right now. "No, John. I don't know where he is."

"Serves you right," he sneered. "Are you ever gonna tell me who the son of a bitch was?"

I closed my eyes wearily, trying with all my might not to scream at him that he was the son of a bitch that he hated so much. But I would never tell him that. I COULD never tell him that…he wouldn't ever believe me.

I shook my head, turning around. "Good-bye, John." I strode towards the door, still fighting not to be knocked over. I was distinctly aware of him staring at me as I left.

The truth? I have never stopped loving John Lennon. I will never stop loving him. I've adjusted though, and it has become just a part of my daily life: wake up, be in love with John, take Jeanie to Val's, think about being in love with John, go to work, think about totally screwing up with John, pick up Jeanie, plot ways to get back with John, do the shopping, reminisce about the better times with John, come home, figure out good ways to tell John the truth about Jeanie, fail to find any good ways to tell John the truth about Jeanie, make dinner, wonder if I'll ever tell Jeanie the truth about John, put Jeanie to bed, cry a little bit about how I wish John was putting her to bed with me, go to sleep, dream about John. And repeat. Though, there are a few slight variations. Sometimes I'll bring her over to George and Paul's when Val (the best sister who ever lived) was busy, and sometimes I even wonder what John is doing at the exact moment I'm thinking about him. So, you see, I have never stopped loving John…it was just necessary to make him think I did at the time.

In so many ways, I don't blame John for being so cruel to me. For what he thinks I did…I would really hate me, too. It just hurts, you know? I only told him that the baby wasn't his so that he could go on living his life, becoming a famous rock star and all. I had no doubt in my mind that he would do that one day. He was talented, good-looking, charismatic, wild. Perfect. So, so perfect. But now I'm the one stuck in love with someone who hates my guts, and that's not fun.

I tucked Jeanie in that night, then made my way to my own bedroom. As I got ready for bed, I thought about that girl the boys introduced me to last night. A.J. I think her name was. She had looked so much like my Jeanie! Yes, she had John Lennon's eyes, just like my daughter. I wondered if she was a sister of his maybe…? No, if she was she wouldn't have made that small comment on him in front of me. She would have DEFINITELY known who I was.

I settled into bed, ready for the only part of my day that I could predict with certainty. But the tears didn't come tonight. Instead of heartbreak, I felt a slight hope. It welled in my heart, than began to pump through my veins, filling my entire body. It was such a different emotion than the usual dejectedness that I usually felt that it caught me by surprise. What was going on, I wondered. Ah, I see. I talked to him again tonight. I don't care how rude he was, I never really did, even when we were together. I talked to him again, yes, but the difference? Tonight he didn't cuss me out of the club.

Ooookay, that's the end of chapter seven. I thought I did this one SUPER fast, all things considered. In case you didn't catch it, the first half is in A.J.'s POV, where Paul is telling her about his new song that he is working on. NOTE! In real life, he came up with the melody in I believe 1964, though the song came out on Help! in 1965. Yes, I know that he probably wouldn't of already had the melody in '62, but YOU all are going to go right along with it, okay? Okay, great. The second half is in Maggie Mae's POV. It deals with her still being in love with him. Very consumingly in love with him, as a matter of fact. I do want to say though…DON'T WORRY, JOHN-LOVERS!!! I wouldn't be so cruel as to make John THAT mean without a VERY valid reason. Everything will be clearer about HIS side of the story (if you don't understand, that is) next chapter. Thanks so much for reading, and REVIEW!!!!

p.s. my poll is still up. Would anybody that didn't vote on it pretty please do so now? Yeah, not in reviews, though. On my profile. Thanks so much!