Hey guys! So, I just posted a new story with snow-ball13 and I haven't really gotten a chance to work on the next chapter of THIS story. I know I shouldn't have just left you guys with bad memories of the terrible Chuck, but whatever. It was necessary, as I said before. But don't worry; Mr. Chuck won't be in this chapter at all, except for maybe a few mentions. Once again, sorry for not updating as fast as my usual standards, but to make up for that I won't babble too much. I owe you guys a long one, so here it is! Chapter ten (God already?!)!

"I want my bed back."

I looked up from the novel I was reading and at Ringo's half angry, half amused face. I shifted myself on said bed, adjusting the pillow a little bit. "Now?"

His composure suddenly dropped and his shoulders sagged. "Please, A.J.? My back hurts SO BAD from sleeping on the couch, and the lads are starting to make fun of me. Can't you take George's bed or something?"

I tapped my chin pretending to think. "Hmmm, well, if I remember correctly, you weren't even at home the past five nights. It's always one of you. Are you sure your back doesn't hurt from something else?" I raised my eyebrow suggestively. He grinned and shook his head violently.

"I'm tired!"

"Suuuuuure."

"I am!"

"I know. But from what?"

He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Instead, he started to chuckle. "Why do you have to be so difficult?" He stomped his foot like a little kid. "I just want to have a little nap in my own bed."

I rolled my eyes, turning back to my book. "No one's stopping you, buddy. I'm not that big, and neither are you." I scooted closer to edge. I barely even took up half of the bed. He stared at me for a moment, as though wondering whether I was serious or not. "Go ahead." I gestured to the open space.

He didn't waste a moment more. He threw himself onto the bed next to me, and within moments his breaths had become deep and even. I snuggled back into the pillows, and his cool breath tickled my ears. Soon, I forgot all about the fact that he was there, and I began to get back into my book.

It was about an hour later that he rolled over. He was laying on his side, facing me, and his face was almost angelic in his sleep. I guess he really was tired. He brought his hand up and tucked it under his chin. On the way up, however, his index finger lightly skimmed my forearm. Even at the softness of his touch, an electric shock seemed to zap my arm. I hadn't anticipated that when I invited him to lie next to me. Suddenly I was uncomfortable, and I didn't know what to make of it.

I looked back at him, wondering what had caused the spark. Surely, it was something new. Ringo had touched me plenty of times; poking me when he was trying to annoy me, rubbing my arm when I started to freak out, ruffling my hair or tapping my nose when he was trying to belittle me. Never before had it made me feel this way. Why was I even freaking out about this? I'm sure it was just a little shock, nothing major.

He sighed, and the sound of it made my heart stop. What the hell??? I turned my head away from his features and stared at my book. The words might have been in a foreign language for all I was getting out of them. My eyes slowly snuck back, searching for his face. I had the sudden urge to reach out and touch him, and I was seriously contemplating it when I heard someone clear their throat from the doorway.

I must have jumped a foot in the air, and I shook the entire bed, making Ringo pick his head up drowsily. Maggie Mae stood looking at us, frowning, holding a squirming Jeanie in her arms. I blushed scarlet, sitting up in bed and pushing my hair away from my face.

"Oh…hi Maggie." Ringo sat up beside me, his eyelids still dragging.

"Hi." She stared at us curiously, eyes darting back and forth. My flush intensified.

"Whatcha doing here?" I asked, not meaning to be rude, but also not meaning to be nice. This was John's house, after all. How did she even get in?

She shifted Jeanie in her arms. Jeanie giggled happily, waving one of her chubby palms at me. I did a mini-wave back and waited for Maggie's answer. "George was supposed to take her this afternoon, but he isn't feeling up to it, I guess. He said you might be willing to do it." She gazed suspiciously at me. "But if you're busy…"

"No!" I leapt from the bed. Ringo gave a confused glance before rolling over and occupying the entire thing himself. "No, I was just reading. I'd be happy to look after Jeanie."

Maggie Mae grinned at me, setting her daughter on the floor and turning to leave. "Alright. George told me John and Paul will be back around six, so I'll be by to pick her up at five thirty sharp. Is that okay?" I nodded, but she was already gone.

Thank God that nice A.J. girl was able to take her, that clears SO much up. This was my main thought as I hurried down the paved street towards the restaurant. I wondered what was up with her and that Starkey fellow. I didn't want any funny business going on while Jeanie was there. Not that George would allow that. He might have had a bit of a hangover, but he wouldn't turn a blind eye while Jeanie was there. That I was sure of.

I rushed into the small café, checking the time as I did so. One thirty, perfect. He said he'd be here. God, I hoped he'd be here.

I ran my eyes around the place, searching for him. Yes, he was true to his word. He sat in the corner by the windows, sipping on a coffee of some sort. "Robert!" I called, waving, and he grinned and gestured to the empty seat in front of him.

I weaved through the strewn about chairs, landing right where he had indicated. We sat there, just staring at each other with faint smiles, for about five awkward seconds. During those five seconds, I thought about how this would never happen with John. How he always had something to say that could fill a silence, how even if things WERE quiet, they were never uncomfortable like this.

Robert cleared his throat. "How've things been?" he asked politely, inclining his head towards me.

"Oh…" I deliberated a bit. "Mostly the same."

"And Jeanie?"

I smiled lightly, closing my eyes and envisioning her sweet face. "Happy. That girl is always so damned happy." I secretly wished that I could be happy like that, instead of just so miserable all the time. But that plan wasn't working out too well for me.

He chuckled and nodded. "Yes, I've noticed that." Robert ran his fingers across the table top thoughtfully. "And John? Any progress with that?"

I hesitated. Maybe it was a mistake to tell Robert the truth about Jeanie. But then again, if we were going to have any sort of relationship, wasn't it best for every party to be honest? I trusted Robert, and I already regarded him as a deep personal friend. He wouldn't tell anybody that John was Jeanie's real father. I was sure of that.

"No. I tried to talk to him about two weeks ago, but he always wants to start a fight. I don't blame him, of course. I can only hope that it will get better in time." I stirred my recently delivered coffee with my index finger. When I told Robert the story, I had made it seem like I held no emotional attachment to John, just the fact that he was my baby daddy. And I made sure to leave out the part where I was deeply and irrevocably in love with him. That was sorta a date-killer, if the whole subject already wasn't.

"Well, if you ever want to talk, I'm here. Just know that." He smiled, and I felt an explosion of warmth inside of me. So this is what it means to have a true friend, I thought. If nothing else, at least he would always be that. And I could learn to love him, couldn't I?

I certainly hope so.

"Put one finger here, another here, and just one more here. Now strum all the way down. Good! That's a G."

Jeanie's plump little fingers hardly even made it around the guitar, and the 'note' that she was playing sound more like it came from a rubber band and tissue box than a real guitar, but she giggled happily anyways, not seeming to care. She looked up to George with sparkling eyes, letting go of the guitar and clapping her hands.

I thought George playing with Jeanie was incredibly cute, but I would never tell George that. It would go right to his head, and then he would think he was the King of Cool or something like that.

"Again, Georey! Again!" she demanded. He put her fingers in all the right places, then made her strum again. I had seen the process repeated a zillion times, but it never got old for the little girl. She didn't even notice when George lifted his hands to his head, held them there for a few seconds, then brought them back down with a pained expression. George had thanked me profusely when I told him I'd watch her today, but had taken over only twenty minutes later, saying that I 'wasn't doing it right'.

"A.J.? Will you come in here real quick?"

I followed Ringo's voice into his bedroom, where he was bent over in the corner, examining something with a look of extreme distaste. My thoughts immediately turned ominous, and I pattered over to him. "What?"

He stepped aside, revealing something I hadn't expected. "I didn't want to touch it," he admitted, glancing at the article of clothing out of the corner of his eye.

"Rings, it's a bra. It won't bite." I raised my eyebrows amusedly, watching at the squeamish expression that encompassed his usually bright features.

"But it looks so…" he searched for the right word, "delicate." He looked over at me wearily. "Please just move it."

I grinned, a plan already formulating in my head. "I think you should move it. After all, you've been living with me for, what, two weeks now? Don't pretend you've never seen a strap or something fall down on my shoulder. And I'm SURE that you've touched (and/or taken off) MUCH more racy ones than a simple black lace."

Ringo gaped at me, then reached up to push his bangs off his forehead. "You can't make me touch it," was all he said.

I raised one eyebrow (that was always a skill in which I was EXTREMELY proud) at him. "Oh, no? So now you're doubting me."

We stood there, the suspense building before I put my plan into action. Then, all at once, I rushed forward, scooping my bra into one hand, and lunged at Ringo. He dodged me, screaming like a little girl. ".!"

I cackled madly while chasing him out of his room, waving the laced black cloth victoriously. "Come here, Ringo! I wanna show you something!" We rushed past Jeanie and George (who had moved into the kitchen) and out into the tiny backyard. I started to gain on him, and right when he was within reach I leapt forward and tackled him.

Giggling like mad, I crawled on top of him and shoved my bra is his face. "I…AM…VICTOIROUS!" I panted. He squirmed around, laughing like a crazy person, and tried to rip the cloth off his face with his fingertips. "Be a man, Rings. C'mon…touch it!"

I heard him take a deep breath, then reach up and snatch the black lace out of my hands, tossing it across the yard. He immediately breathed a sigh of relief, then grinned. I looked down at him, still laughing. After a few moments, he got a sly look on his face. "You can get off of me now."

I flushed for the second time that day, rolling off of him. As I went by, my hand accidentally brushed his, and again I felt that spark. I glanced up at him quickly, trying to figure out if he felt it, too. This time, I knew, it couldn't be excused as just static electricity. His eyes remained downward as he sat up, dusting himself off.

We heard a slight commotion from inside, and I stood up, too. Leaving my bra for a little while, we snuck back into the house (I was too embarrassed to say anything more) and peeked around the corner and into the living room.

"Please," George pleaded, his hands together. "I'm sorry, Mags. I really am. I don't know what happened…"

Maggie (whose face must have been as red as mine) shook her head vigorously. "Stop. I'm sorry, Georgie. I can't…I can't do this right now. I'm in over my head as it is."

Ringo and I looked at each other, and I could tell our thoughts were in sync. George must have said or done something outside of their friendship. Oh, no. Poor George. Didn't he tell me he thought he might be a little bit in love with Maggie Mae?

Maggie bent down to pick up Jeanie, who was playing with one of George's old guitars, and shook her head again. "Thank you so much for today, but really it would be better if I just left."

George bit his lip. "I…I'm so sorry. I don't know what else to say."

"Then don't say anything at all." She turned to leave. "Maybe I'll see you around." And then she was gone.

It took me only a few seconds for what happened to sink in. George had done something stupid, and now Maggie Mae was leaving…and it sounded like for good. I hardly even hesitated before racing out into the hall, pushing past George, and out into the cold evening air. It hadn't struck me as to how cold it was just minutes before when I was with Ringo, but now it seemed freezing.

"MAGGIE!" I called, seeing as she was already a little ways down the block. She stopped and turned, light tears streaming down her face.

"You can't leave," I whined, the sad truth already setting in. "Not now. John has to…you have to tell him! And George…please don't go!"

She looked a bit taken aback. "How…How do you know about John?"

Oops. "I just…okay, George told me. But only because it was necessary for me to know! I swear, that was all. I forced it out of him, I…I held a gun to his head. I don't know! I can't think right now." I hopped frantically in place, trying to shake my thoughts into order. "All's I know is that you cannot leave now. You're supposed to, that's how the story goes, but maybe if you stay things will turn out differently!"

She looked at me like I was crazy. "What story? Who are you, and what's going on?"

I waved away her questions. "It doesn't matter. You just can't leave. Stay for…stay for John!"

She frowned, shifting Jeanie from her left to her right arm. "John? John and I will never be the same as we once were, if ever forgives me, that is." She scuffed the sidewalk with her toe bitterly. "He hates me anyways."

I took this, the only little bit of personal information she had given me, and ran with it. "He doesn't! He's just terribly heartbroken. I'm sure if you just told him about Jeanie then he would take back what he said!"

Maggie Mae shrugged. "I don't want him living with that burden. It was a mistake, but I never want Jean to have to carry that around with her. It better like this…really, it is." She didn't look to sure about this statement, but her voice never let in any stray emotions.

I scrambled for another excuse for her. I decided to use the real reason that I came running out here in the first place. "What about George? He could make you happy, I know he could! I've been living with him long enough to care about him, and that's only because he cares about everybody else no matter who or what they are! And he…well, I think you know how he feels about you."

"George Harrison kissed me in front of my daughter. Why do you want me here so badly, anyways? How do you even know I'm going to leave?"

I ignored her questions once again. "He kissed you?!"

She nodded solemnly. "I have never felt that way about him."

Awww, poor Georgie! I racked my brain again. "Then what about...me?" Oh, please dear God, if you exist, tell me I did NOT just say that! She looked at me like I was totally insane.

She started to back up a little bit. "Why would I stay in this miserable town for you? I hardly even know you, nor will I ever!"

I have to admit, that was the point where I lost it. I had been maintaining my cool fairly well over the past couple of days. I mean, there had been a lot; the time jump, Doctor Robert not bringing me back, the whole John thing, Chuck…. And I had always been one to just take things and take things, but right now I couldn't. Right now it was just a little too much.

"You know who I am! You KNOW! I know you think it's impossible, and I did too just a few days ago, but you KNOW!"

She kept staring at me like I was completely insane. "I think you've got the wrong person…"

"NO!" I shrieked. Jeanie, who was usually happy as could be, was looking a little scared now. I had a sudden flash of the woman that she would grow up to be; her fair complexion, her dark curly hair, her witty humor, her bright outlook on life. She would marry Jude Rose, and they would live happily ever after, having three nice (if you could call me nice) kids and a white picket fence around their home. She would visit her fiery mother every weekend, most of the time dragging my two brothers and me along. Grandma Ryan would tell us all kinds of stories about how she left Ireland, went to England, and then came to America with our grandpa Robert Ryan. Jeanie would lead a fairly normal life, and Maggie Mae would give up everything for it. That right there was the part of the story that I was never told. That, and the Beatles part. But maybe there was a reason for that.

"Just look at me! Look at me straight in the eye." And for the briefest of moments, she did. I could see it in her features when it finally clicked. Slowly, she looked down at the wiggling girl in her arms, then back at me, always focusing on the eyes. She knew, she had to.

Maggie stumbled backwards a little bit, still looking dazed, then took a few more steps back. "No..." she mumbled, "it can't be!"

I knew I had lost. Any hope of Maggie Mae staying Liverpool was gone. That meant that MY future didn't consist of any Beatle grandpas, that meant that Doctor Robert was leaving and wouldn't be able to return me to 2010, and that also meant that I was going to have to go on living with the fact that my mother's whole life had been a lie, and I knew, not her.

Maggie gave me one last horrorstruck look before turning around and bolting. Jeanie's head appeared over her shoulder, and she gave me the tiniest of waves. Something in my heart collapsed at this sight. My two connections to the world that I really lived in were leaving me, and I felt so homesick right then that I could barely take it.

I spun on my heel, slouching dejectedly back to the boys' house. Inside, I found George and Ringo standing in the exact same places I had left them. Ringo looked a bit confused, though he seemed to have gathered the gist of what was going on, and George looked completely and totally crushed. Without thinking, I strode over, wrapping my arms around George's waist and resting my head on his chest.

We stood like this for a few minutes, his arms still hanging at his sides, before he leaned down and whispered in my ear. "Is she gone?"

His words pushed the tears that had been hanging on the edges of my eyelids out and let them roll freely down my ample cheeks. "Y-Yes," I told him. There was a moment of hesitation, then he let himself melt into my arms. His crying went on long after mine stopped, but still I let him shake into my shoulder. The feeling of loss and heartbreak that surrounded him was starting to make me sad again, so I held him tighter, trying to counteract my emotions.

"At least you'll see her again," he whispered. I didn't dare look at him; I didn't like to see other people cry.

"No," I murmured back. "I won't."

Ringo looked on with a gloomy expression on his usually bright features. He didn't once move to join our pity-party, nor did he try to break it up. Maybe he felt the bond that was forming between me and George, or maybe he was paralyzed with that same feeling I had when seeing John sing for Maggie Mae. I guess I'll never really know.

Can I tell you something? I know that I am no expert on friendship or family matters, and I will never pretend to be. But there is one thing I know, one thing that I gained for this experience with George. There is a line between friends, lovers, and family. George stepped over the line that separated friends from lovers that day. But he didn't stay in that little spot. No, from there he leapt all the way to family, in one moment becoming closer to me than I was with my real brothers. Because isn't the true definition of family seeing each other at our lowest and weakest, but still loving and supporting us through all we go through? I don't know about anybody else, but that's what I think of.

So that was the day George Harrison became my brother.

Okay, please use your figurative imaginations please. He wasn't literally A.J.'s brother, but the two of them bonded over the two weeks that A.J. had been there. And bear with me on the whole Maggie Mae subject. I will explain much more about what happens in the future with her and all that. For right now, this is what I want you to know. Next chapter? I haven't decided. I'm debating whether to make a Paul or Ringo one first…. What would you guys like to see? I mean, you should know that if it's Ringo then it also has to be Chuck. And if it's Paul then it's not gonna be that exciting. Either way, you're gonna get both chapters. Tell me what you think in one of those little things we here at fanfiction like to call REVIEWS!!!!