YES IT IS

Authors: pennylane_fic, jenny_wren28 & lovelyrita_mm

Starring: The Beatles and Maggie Sue

Rating: M for language, implied sex (though none of it is explicit) & implied drug use. Characters used in this story are either our creation, or are historically-based (ie, The Beatles).

Disclaimer: We don't own any of the Beatles, this obviously never happened, and is a complete work of fiction.

Chapter One

September 29th 1964

Stumbling back, Maggie felt herself begin to fall as her knees gave out from under her. Blindly she reached out with her arms, searching for something to hold onto before she went crashing to the floor. As she grappled for some sort of purchase, strong fingers wrapped around her wrist and forearm. They held her upright, steadying her on her feet, and calming the moment of blind panic that had coursed through her as her world had spun. Taking a moment to calm herself, she stood and let her vision clear, acutely aware of the grip on her arm. With a deep breath, Maggie opened her eyes, only to have them come in contact with the pointy-toed boots placed firmly on the ground next to her sandals. The very sight of them made her stomach clench involuntarily. Slowly she trailed her eyes upwards taking in each detail from the hem of his slacks to the white collar of his shirt peaking out from the top of his sweater. It's actually called a jumper in England, Maggie thought to herself, her analytical mind processing and sorting data and information, no matter what the situation. Processing and sorting information despite the fact that with each passing second she felt the racing of her heart hammer on faster, creating a dull thud inside her head. As her eyes left his collar, the thud in her ears grew to a loud roar as she took in his neck, then his chin, followed by his jaw line, lips, long nose, and slowly, hesitantly, his eyes. The moment their eyes connected, the roaring in her ears stopped, blinked out of existence and was replaced simply with a deafening silence.

Confusion colored his eyes - those brown eyes. Hadn't those eyes been in a photograph just a minute ago? Maggie stared up at him, only just remembering to breathe as she tried to snap herself out of it. It couldn't have possibly worked, could it? People didn't just fall into the past through pictures. It went beyond improbable, it was impossible!

"Uh- hullo," John said, cocking his head to the side and staring at her warily. Briefly he looked around the hallway, trying to see where she had come from, but found that the only things surrounding them were walls and a few pictures here and there.

Maggie's mouth fell open slightly as she heard the voice. "I'm dreaming," she breathed. "That's the only possible explanation." She shook her head while speaking out loud, which aided in giving her an aura of insanity that seemed to actually amuse John. But he was still wary. The fans were finding new and clever ways to break into the studio every day. He cocked his head to the side, and with his hands still placed firmly upon her, he listened to her try and talk herself out of something that he wasn't quite sure of himself. "I mean, you can't just get sucked into the past through a picture, can you? No, I didn't think so; it's simply not even theoretically possible." She laughed to herself, growing a little hysterical over the matter as the air of insanity surrounding her seemed to increase in size. "In fact this is completely impossible." She said, looking down at her feet for a moment before looking back up at John. He stood before her, his brow furrowed as he took her all in. "You're not real," she stated shortly.

At that simple pronouncement, a small smile slipped across his face and his hands fell from her arms. "I can assure you, luv, I am very real." He then paused to stare at her, mimicking her pondering pose before continuing. "Did you ever stop and think that perhaps you might not be real?" he asked teasingly.

Maggie furrowed her brow, his words throwing her for a loop immediately. Opening her mouth, she quickly shut it, trying to decide what to say. The only thing that came to her mind though was a question that seemed fairly obvious, but was nevertheless something that needed to be verified. "Who are you?" she managed. Surely, this was just a very good John Lennon look-a-like, she had not traveled back in time, and she was just dehydrated or tired or both, which is why her head was spinning earlier. Maggie smiled to herself, yes, yes, it was always the simplest answer that was the correct one. Logic prevailed once again!

Unfortunately for logic, the John Lennon look-a-like bowed. "John Lennon, at your service." He grinned. "And you are?" Maggie's only response to that was to mumble her name, then continue to stare and mentally go over her day in her head. Maybe when she had bent down to fix her sandal, she had simply slipped and fell. Maybe she had hit her head and she was currently lying in the middle of the EMI hall bleeding to death and this was all some sort of coma-like dream. That would make more sense than what she was dealing with now.

John openly scrutinized the girl before him now; simply put, he was curious. She was dressed differently then he was used to seeing, wearing jeans that were indecently low-waisted and hugged her hips tightly. Not that he minded. Her shirt confused him as well, since it formed to her curves and exclaimed "Barenaked Ladies" across the chest. While he couldn't argue with the sentiment of her shirt, he was shocked that she'd dared to go out in public dressed as she was. Her hair itself was enough to scream "foreigner" as it hung long and loose down her back, a slight wave set amongst it. Her accent told him that she was obviously American, so while that alone was enough to explain the oddities about her, and the clothes and the hair, it didn't explain the fact that she popped out of the air right in front of his nose, like Alice stepping through the looking glass.

Maggie shook her head and finally answered him. "Look, you can't really be John Lennon because this sort of thing doesn't happen in real life." It only happens in my daydreams, she thought to herself. "I'm a scientist. I know all about these kinds of things and time travel is impossible. At least for the time being. I mean, I guess there's always the possibility despite everything it entails, but that won't be until way off in the future. We don't even have the means for that sort of technology yet. I'm not even sure if any is being developed and…" Maggie trailed off, realizing she was rambling. "You're not real," she repeated. Remembering the photo suddenly, she turned and studied the walls, wondering if it would still be there or if it had simply been replaced by the real John. No, it was still there. She started inspecting it with both her eyes and hands, as if hoping that it may hold the key to the answer of her current dilemma. She couldn't help but notice that the photo was rather newer looking than it had been when she'd started staring at it. It was no longer yellowed with age.

John smiled at that, still not sure what she was going on about, but amused by her refusal to believe that he was, in fact, real. "I could pinch you," he offered.

Maggie stopped and looked at him over her shoulder. "What?"

"I could pinch you," he repeated. "It would tell us whether or not you are, in fact, dreaming - that you're not really here in 1964, that you are tucked blissfully away in your own little bed somewhere, preferably slumbering naked. And most importantly, it would give me a thrill."

Maggie stared at him for a moment before bursting into laughter, not really sure if the laughter came from the absurdity of the situation, or his words itself. Shaking her head, she began to try and take in her surroundings. It looked like EMI, only it was a bit more dated than she remembered it. Turning her back to John she peered down the hall, trying to see if the tour group was still around. 1964? He was obviously crazy, hallucinating, or both. Or maybe she was the one hallucinating.

John smiled at her, as she turned her back towards him in obvious frustration. Shrugging, he reached forward, pinching her bum and laughing as she squeaked in surprise. He took a step back as she turned around, staring at him in shock. He responded by looking at the ceiling and whistling innocently at their little exchange.

Maggie felt her world spin once again as she stared at him and suddenly realized that this was either a very real dream, or that this was, in fact, really happening.

"Oh, God," she breathed, a shudder running through her body as the blood drained from her face.

John frowned at that; all he had done was pinch her bum. So far this bird had been acting very differently. She was dressed wrong, she wasn't trying to pull out his hair, she wasn't in the usual fan hysterics, clinging to his arm and screaming his name, and most importantly, she didn't seem to want anything from him. This wasn't just some fan girl that had snuck into the studio. This girl was something else and she was currently confused as hell. Watching the first signs of panic streak her face, John reached out to her once more.

"Come along, now," he said gently, taking her by the arm again, hoping that the soft pressure he exerted on her shoulder would bring her back to reality, at least for the time being. "I think you could probably use a little air. You know, to help clear your head a bit." She looked up at him with wild eyes as he steadily began to lead her towards the roof, keeping his steps slow and steady so as not to rush her.

Opening the door, the cool air rushed over them and Maggie couldn't help but close her eyes and breathe in a sigh of relief. It soothed her heated cheeks, washing away the suffocation that had been surrounding her in that little studio hall. She had broken free of the compression and the weight she had been feeling. John let her stand there for a moment before leading her over to the railing and leaning her gently against it.

Taking residence by her side, John made sure to keep some distance between them, not wanting to crowd her and also still feeling a little apprehensive about the girl next to him. Turning his eyes to the brick that lay against the opposite wall, John stared at it, trying to make sense of the situation at hand. From what he could get from her earlier mumblings, the girl believed she was from the future. And at the moment, John was inclined to believe her. Her method of arrival was enough to ensure that.

"So," John began a little hesitantly, shifting his weight back and forth from foot to foot. "When you're not popping out of thin air, what do you usually do?"

Looking at him out of the corner of her eye, Maggie saw the feigned nonchalance and had to laugh at the absurdity of it all. "I'm a scientist at NASA," she said with a smile, shaking her head a little bit. If she really was dying in a coma, she might as well enjoy this dream while she could

John blinked, having expected anything but that from the girl beside him. "A what for whom? Birds can be scientists in the future?" He said jokingly, "A woman's place is at home in the kitchen." He grinned at her, knowing that this was bound to get a rise out of a woman such as herself.

Maggie glared, knowing he was having her on and fighting the urge to roll off the names of several women scientist right here in the present… the past… wherever it was she was at the moment. "Yes, women are scientists in the future," she said with a self-satisfied grin. "And pilots, and firefighters, and policemen, and lawyers, and doctors, and in the UK's case, Prime Ministers!" She smiled triumphantly as John pretended to stumble back with the force of her words. "We also have the right to vote and we're even allowed to drive cars." If the career choices hadn't impressed him, this at least had. His eyes widened almost comically, giving off the air of a child as he discovered something new for the first time.

"Amazing!" John exclaimed in joking astonished glee. "Driving cars even…" Shaking his head, he sighed. "God help us, the roads will never be safe again."

Maggie snorted at that, looking at him sarcastically, "Says the man who is renowned for his excellent driving skills!"

And with the brief exchange out of her mouth, it hit her.

This was John Lennon.

This wasn't a picture or a dream or a fantasy of hers. This was John Winston Lennon and the year was 1964 and the Beatles were still together. Feeling the air around her grow hot, Maggie sucked in a deep breath, finding it harder and harder to breathe as the seconds ticked by and her stomach jolted with sickening twists.

John felt helpless as she began to sway from side to side before abruptly falling to her knees. The color drained from her cheeks seconds before it happened and John had just enough time to swoop in and hold her hair from her face as she lost her breakfast all over the roof.

With her hands digging into the grimy concrete, and tears pricking her tightly closed eyes, Maggie felt the bile swell from her throat with a distinct burning sensation, offering a contrast to the cool hands brushing the nape of her neck. Coughing, she took in several deep breaths, sucking in mouthfuls of air and trying her hardest to keep what was left in her stomach, down.

As she began to breathe a little more regularly, John took out a hankie from his pocket, offering it to her as he stayed in his crouched position still holding back her hair. Maggie looked at him sideways, trying to gauge whether or not she could open her mouth yet without anything coming out. When she thought it was safe, she turned to him a little, taking the proffered hankie and wiping at her mouth.

"Sorry," she mumbled a bit sheepishly. "That probably wasn't very lady-like of me."

With a wave of his hand, John shook his head. "Nonsense! It was very graceful the way you lost your breakfast all over the roof, wasn't it? I've never seen anyone vomit more elegantly." He smiled encouragingly at her while reaching out and gently tucking her hair behind her ears, causing his fingers to brush against her cheek.

Maggie smiled rather weakly at his attempts to diminish her embarrassment. With a deep breath and the scent of her own vomit stinging her senses, Maggie tried handing him back the hankie. "Thanks," she said.

Putting out his hand, John grasped hers tightly in his, moving to help her to her feet. He looked down at the handkerchief with a wrinkled nose, and shook his head. "Keep it," he said in mock disgust, laughing a little as she ducked her head in embarrassment again.

"Look, Maggie, was it?" At her affirmative nod he continued, "Look, you've said it yourself that you're a scientist and that this is impossible. Well, I say rather then get all wound up about how it happened, let's stay calm, and let's see if we can figure out how to get you back to your time." He squeezed her arm gently, feeling slightly crazy himself as he spoke. Then again, who was he to dismiss this? Anything was possible, right? "Of course," he said with a grin, "This is only after you tell me everything I should invest my money in, in order to ensure I never have to work a real job in my life." Maggie looked up at him, giving him a halfhearted smile at that. To John, it was enough. "Come on," he encouraged softly, keeping a firm hold of her hand, "Let's take you down to the studio to meet the other three. Mal's gone out for sandwiches. Maybe I can make you lose your lunch this time around."

That coaxed a real smile out of her and as the two of them headed towards the door, Maggie felt her clammy cheeks begin to return to normal, and the sweat on her forehead fade. Feeling much calmer, Maggie realized John was right; it was best to try to figure out how to get back home rather then dwell on how she got here. And now that she'd accepted she was actually in the past she found that she was much calmer and actually curious to get a look around. "Now," John started, "tell me all about this NASA business that you work for as a brilliant driving AND voting Scientist."

"I don't know if I can tell you anything," she said.

Stopping in his tracks, John frowned. "Why not?"

Turning to him, Maggie pulled away, pushing open the door to the studio with her back and looking at him in mock seriousness. "Because, then I'd have to kill you."

Disappearing into the hallway, she left a bewildered John Lennon on the rooftop. He stared after her, watching as the door shut with a screech, before smiling. With a snort of laughter, he went after her.

* * *

A/N:

This is a complete story, so you won't be left hanging! We are planning on post approximately 2 chapters a week.

Also, we'd love to know what you think so far, so please drop us a line. :)