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 Two

After the initial storm of fear and queasy nerves, Maggie had calmed down and gotten her bearings. She walked beside John down the hall, both chatting with ease as they traded barbs back and forth and Maggie tried to explain her position as a scientist. Of course John, only wanting to know if the future held flying cars, life on Mars, and an industrial size box of corn flakes, constantly interrupted her.

"Uh, I think you can get some sort of off-brand version of it in a bag that's really big," she offered. John frowned. "What is the world coming to?" He muttered. "First women can drive and vote, and now they offer corn flakes in a bag instead of a box." He shook his head. "The next thing you'll be telling me is that Elvis works at a Las Vegas gas station and the Queen of England doesn't drink tea."

Maggie smiled. "Well, I can't really vouch for the Queen but there are plenty of people that claim to have seen Elvis pumping gas in Vegas. I hear he also does weddings."

John stopped in his tracks, looking at her as she continued to wind her way down the hall in laughter. She had to be joking. Coming up to her side, John's hand brushed against hers, and Maggie smiled. Turning to him she watched as he batted his eyelashes at her and said teasingly, "Stop trying to hold my hand, luv. I'm sorry, but I'm a married man and it just wouldn't be decent." Maggie felt herself laugh and roll her eyes, but inside she felt herself jump in excitement. She had nearly held hands with John Lennon! And to top it off, now she had "I Want to Hold Your Hand" running through her head!

As they reached the end of the hall, John pushed open the door without pretense, and yelled loudly at whoever would listen. "Where's my food?"

A dark-haired young man looked up from his position at the piano, and gave John a slight smile. "We've sent the slaves to go and get it for you, your Majesty. It should only be a few more moments." The boy stood and bowed deeply, waving his hand in a flourish.

"And the rest of my peons?" John laughed, looking down his nose at his friend.

"Dead, sir. They were making awful yawning noises during our last performance so I had to poison their tea."

John shook his head, clucking his tongue in mock anger. "It'll be the stockades for you then, Macca, my boy. And maybe if you're good, old Johnny here will give you the paddle."

Paul snorted in laughter. "You wish, you queer bastard."

John smiled, blowing a kiss to Paul, who caught it in his hand while grinning back at John, and held it to his heart like a fawning schoolgirl. "Where's Ritchie, then?" John asked.

Paul shrugged, dropping the act and frowning a little in confusion as he set his eyes on someone standing slightly behind John. "Uh- I don't know." Cocking his head to the side, Paul peered over his friend's shoulder. "I think he had to take a piss or something. Who's your friend?" he asked with a slight nod.

John turned, a smile reaching across his face. One that meant John was happy, though it only set off warning bells in Paul's head. He knew that look, and it never ended in anything good for Paul.

"Oh, this is…." But as John turned around to introduce Maggie to everyone, he found that she was already gone. In a flash she had raced across the studio, bolting towards George, exclaiming as she went, "Oh wow! It's George…" The lead guitarist's eyes widened a little as he took a step back, mentally cursing John for bringing a crazy fan into the studio like this without Mal or Neil present to take care of her. But then she stormed right past him, rushing by in a blur of color as she fell to her knees.

"…Harrison's 12 string Rickenbacker 360!" she squealed excitedly, motioning wildly to the guitar before her and barely restraining herself from clapping in glee. She didn't even give a second glance to its owner who stood bewildered by her side.

Paul raised an eyebrow, looking back and forth between George, the guitar and the girl several times. "That's the first time I've seen a bird recognize the guitar before the Beatle," he commented, turning to John in search of an explanation. But John's eyes were focused on the kneeling figure of the girl before him and he looked on at her with awe and wonderment. She was definitely different.

The sound of Paul's voice seemed to snap Maggie out of her trance, pulling her away before she managed to drool on herself and the exquisite guitar in front of her. "Oh," she said sheepishly, pulling the hand that had been running up and down the neck of the guitar back to her side, shocked that she had been so bold as to touch it without asking. "I'm so sorry." Looking up at George she felt her cheeks heat and turn pink. "That was really rude, wasn't it?" Falling back on the balls of her feet, she smiled up at a bewildered George, sticking her hand out for him to shake. "I'm Maggie," she offered.

George smirked, giving a quick glance to the rest of the gang before sticking his own hand out and grasping hers. Shaking it, George looked at her with wry amusement. "George Harrison," he said slowly, "But you probably already know that."

With a small laugh, Maggie grinned sheepishly, still a bit embarrassed by her forward behavior. "Well, yeah… though I do have to admit that I'm a bit more excited about meeting your guitar. No offense, I hope?" she asked with a hopeful smile playing across her face.

Cocking his head to the side, George looked slightly surprised, but let another smirk slip across his lips. "No, none taken," he said with a bit of a laugh. Motioning to his guitar, he looked at Maggie curiously. "She's quite a beauty, isn't she?"

Maggie's eyes turned back towards the object in question, her pupils dilating and her breath quickening by the mere sight of it. George cocked his head to the other side, silent laughter playing across his lips. "How's the action?" she asked, throwing him a glance. "What kind of pickups are these?" Maggie stared longingly at the guitar, running her eyes up and down the body.

Turning to John, George let out a grin, flashing his teeth and almost jumping in excitement. "I like her!" With his piece being said, George slipped to his knees, scooting close to a girl he didn't even know, and for the first time, liking that a bird loved his guitar more than him. Just like they were old friends, they put their heads together, engaging in conversation over the guitar before them.

Paul surveyed the scene with a strong emotion beginning to well up inside him, thrashing about at the scene before him. This wasn't right. Normally Paul could care less what his friends did with birds on their own time, but this was the studio. This was different.

As George and the girl became immersed in talk of whether or not the neck of the guitar was too narrow for its twelve strings, Paul made his way over to John. John stared idly at the two, an amused expression across his face and a captivated smile slowly beginning to take control.

Leaning against the wall next to him, Paul crossed his arms. "So, where'd you get her?" Paul asked lightly, trying not to sound too defensive just yet. There was probably a perfectly acceptable explanation for what was going on. This was probably just another one of John's whims after all. After all, who the hell did this girl think she was, waltzing into their studio like that, dressed the way she was, and shoving her way into their circle? And what was John thinking bringing her here? This was the recording studio for God's sake! No wives, no girlfriends, and definitely no crazy fans! Those had always been the rules.

John turned towards Paul, seeing the undeniable clench of his friend's jaw and the way his eyes had taken on a slightly darker color. He laughed a little, swinging an arm over Paul's shoulder and squeezing it. "Would you believe me if I told you she just fell out of the sky?"

Paul looked at him skeptically, shrugging John's arm from his shoulder. "I'm serious, John," he said, taking a step back from him. "Where the hell did she come from? You can't just pick crazy fans up off the street and bring them into the studio whenever the hell you feel like it. We've got work to do, and no time for this nonsense," he hissed, trying to keep his voice down so as not to alarm the girl on the floor with George. If she really was a nutter, he didn't want to set her off.

John bristled at that, and snapped his eyes to Paul, warning him silently. "Good thing I didn't do that then." Irritation flashed in Paul's eyes and John knew that in order for Paul to understand, he'd have to go into a little more of an explanation. Sighing, John closed his eyes briefly before looking at his friend. "Look," he started. "I'm telling you, she just appeared out of nowhere. I was just walking down the hall and then suddenly there she was, right in front of me." Paul gave a disbelieving laugh as he shot John a glare, thinking his friend was obviously having him on. "I'm serious!" John exclaimed. Paul rolled his eyes and leaned back hotly against the wall again.

Realizing how it all must sound, John looked towards Maggie for some sort of help. She and George had begun to wrap up their conversation and he watched as she stood, George's guitar strap swung across her shoulder.

The next thing John was aware of was Paul pushing away from the wall and stalking over to their side in a flash. With a raised brow he gave Maggie a brief sweep of the eyes, running them up and down her body and sizing up his competition so to speak.

"You play the guitar?" Paul demanded suspiciously, obviously not believing that the likes of her could even pluck out a note let alone actually play the thing in her hands.

"Well, yeah, of course…" Maggie said trailing off, slightly taken aback by the tone of his voice. Frowning, she turned her attention back to the beauty in her hands, getting a feel for it, and drawing strength from its weight. "Why, is that weird to you?" She strummed out a few notes, smiling as they wove their way around the room clearly and precise, painting the air with an intensity and flavor that only music could.

Paul opened his mouth, about to shoot off some sort of response, but George beat him to it. "What kind of guitar do you have?" he asked excitedly, obviously enamored with the girl before him. Paul crossed his arms. It seemed to be an epidemic of some sort.

"I've got a few, but my favorite is my Fender Strat," she replied with a slight shrug, closing her eyes, and strumming the guitar once more, clearly lost in the sound and the feel of the guitar, and not really aware of her surroundings any longer.

"Oh, I've always wanted one of those!" George said wistfully, wondering how she had even got one.

"Oh, they're great," Maggie gushed, turning excited eyes towards him. "I like the way the top is curved so that it's really comfortable for your arm..."

"How did you get in here?" Paul abruptly asked, interrupting the two of them before they could slip back into another long-winded conversation about guitars. He was going to get to the bottom of this so they could deal with it and go back to their normal lives. Narrowing his eyes, he turned to John. "And just what were you smoking when she supposedly "popped" out of the air, eh?" John didn't say anything, only crossed his arms, readying himself for a Macca rant. But Paul took this as a sign of his impending win. With a smirk on his face, he turned back to Maggie, a disbelieving look raising his brow. "And a Fender Strat? You have an electric guitar? You've got a Fender Stratocaster? You!?"

George frowned at that, the wistful adoration that filled his features just moments before morphing into skepticism. He was after all, talking to a GIRL about guitars. "Yeah," he said, crossing his arms and feeling like he had just been fooled. "Why do you have an electric guitar? How'd you get a Fender Stratocaster?"

Maggie bit her lip, not sure how to answer them. They would never believe the full truth. John did, but then he saw the method of her arrival. Tugging on her lip, Maggie felt the nausea ring back through her. Somehow, this was not turning out to be as fun as she always imagined, and slowly that familiar fear and panic began to sweep through her again. Shouldn't the Beatles be falling all over themselves to love her and be her friend because she was obviously so cool? They always did in her daydreams… While Maggie knew she categorized her life into two different sides, her dreams and the scientific reality, she also knew that this situation didn't fit into either and that only served to scare her even more. In her daydreams Paul was not suspicious, jealous and mistrustful. No, he was kind, and adorable like a cute little brother who looked up to her. And George, well, what was he doing doubting her?! As for Ringo…well in her fantasies Ringo was most definitely here, and not in the bathroom. And John, well, no, actually John so far had been exactly as she expected. Only, in her daydreams he wasn't married. Frowning a bit at that last thought she realized the room had grown tense and quiet, with all three of them, even John, staring at her expectantly.

Exasperated, she sighed and thought, They don't think women can play guitar, or are on equal footing with them, that's fine. I'll show 'em. They have no idea what's about to hit 'em. She smiled tightly at the three of them. "Why shouldn't I have one?" She said with a bit of a raised brow, mostly directed towards Paul. "Last I checked in addition to driving and voting, women can play guitars too, even electric guitars." She looked pointedly at John when she said this, and then realized when he tossed her a wink, that he was just curious about how she got the guitar, and didn't doubt her playing ability. Laughing to herself she gave him an overly exaggerated wink back. The exchange only served as yet another irritation in Paul's eyes. His mouth quickly quirked down as he crossed his arms protectively in front of him, positioning himself slightly between the girl and John.

"Besides," Maggie went on, only slightly aware of Paul's reaction. She was more concerned at the moment of making her point, than she was over Paul's jealousy. "I'm in a rock band. I'm rhythm guitar and lead vocals. You know, I actually learned to play guitar because of you guys." She admitted a little sheepishly. She couldn't help but wonder how she was still standing. Her body was a mass of nerves and her emotions were playing all throughout the place. First she was flirty, then in awe, then scared and then defiant all in a matter of a few moments.

Paul's eyes narrowed. Now he knew she was putting them all on. They had only just become big in America giving her not nearly enough time to actually learn how to play the guitar. He was about to tell her that much when George interrupted, a confused expression on his face.

"Sorry, luv. I don't mean to offend you or anything like that, but girls just aren't in rock bands." He tried to put it as delicately as possible, but a touch of laughter at the idea that a girl was in a rock band laced his words.

Maggie bit her bottom lip again, trying to decide how much she should tell them. They already thought she was crazy; so to say that she was from the future probably wouldn't be that far of a stretch for them to handle. But she shied away from it for a moment, trying to beat her way around the bush. "Where I come from, girls are in rock bands all the time."

Paul snorted. "Where is that? America?"

"Well, yes. And…" Taking a deep breath, she looked to John for support, wondering if she should go through with it. John nodded his head and gave her a quick smile of encouragement. From his position, Paul watched the interaction, clearly not amused by it all. If she already had John on her side, the others would be quick to follow. "And…I'm kinda, well, that is to say…," she hesitated, knowing just how crazy she was about to sound. "I'm not quite sure how to put this… I'm from … the future," she finished lamely.

Silence, and then abrupt laughter quickly filled the room as both George and Paul burst out into fits of giggles, Paul nearly doubling over with the ridiculousness of it all.

"Good one, Lennon," George called out. "You really had us all going there for a minute."

Paul leaned back against the wall, smiling to himself, wiping away a fresh batch of tears from his eyes. "Geez, John. She's good. Just where did you get her?"

While the others laughed, John frowned at them. His brow darkening, he felt the irritation knot at the back of his neck. "She's telling the truth, Paul."

"Oh, that's right." Paul laughed. "She just popped out of thin air. I forgot."

"Look," John said, stepping forward and directing more of his irritation towards Paul. George quieted down, listening to John, his amusement slowly slipping from his face. "I told you, I was walking down the hall and then she just appeared, if she's not from where she says she is, then how did that happen?"

Paul gave John a patronizing look, talking down to him as if he were a child and patted him on the shoulder. "The pills you popped today probably had something to do with it."

"Fuck off, Paul," John said, shoving the hand away from his shoulder as he heard Paul burst back into laughter.

"Oh come on, John," Paul called out in disbelief. "You can't actually expect us to believe that she's from the future. That's impossible."

George looked at Maggie, taking in her appearance. They had been right when they told her that girls didn't play in rock bands. At least not now, in 1964. So how did she know so much about guitars, and how did she get her hands on a Fender Strat?

"I don't know, Paul. It may actually explain a few things," George mumbled, reluctantly, not quite believing that he had said it.

"You can't be serious?" Paul said, turning to George. "You're not actually believing this, are you?" He gestured towards Maggie, dismissing her almost with a wave of his hand. "This is just one of John's pranks that he's carried way too far."

George shrugged. "I'm just not ruling it out, that's all."

"Oh for fuck's sake, George," Paul groaned. From the corner, John smirked, crossing his arms in satisfaction. Paul bristled at the situation, irritated by the amused gaze from John and the hesitant one from George. "Fine," he stated, turning to Maggie, determined to show them what a fraud she actually was. She may have been able to pull the wool over their eyes for a little while but she wasn't about to win this little game of hers. "Prove it," he demanded.

Maggie frowned. "What?"

"You say you're from the future, then prove it."

"Christ, Paul," John groaned from the corner. "She said she was from the future. That doesn't mean she can levitate or anything."

"No," Maggie said, taking a step forward. She was actually surprised that the demand hadn't come a lot earlier. "No, he's right. He needs proof. " Hell, I need proof, she thought to herself. Standing there, she thought for a moment, trying to think of something to do or say that might make this all more believable. With the way Paul was looking at her, she knew it had to be good. "Okay," she said slowly. "Do you have any song ideas that the others haven't heard about yet?" she asked.

Ticking his gaze to the ground, Paul thought for a moment before coming up with one. "Yeah, I've been working on one for my Auntie Gin. She seems to like the tune well enough."

Maggie nodded. "Okay. Give me a hint to what it is and I bet I can play it for you." Please be one I know! she thought to herself. She knew she was taking a gamble that he would select one she didn't really know, but since she'd dropped her purse before "appearing" here, she couldn't think of any other way to prove it.

The corner of Paul's mouth quirked up into a grin, the warm feeling of winning washing over him. "Fallin' yes I am fallin' and she keeps callin' me back again," he sang, crossing his arms with a self-satisfied smirk, knowing that he had just proven her a fraud.

Maggie smiled, and inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. It was one she knew how to play. "Oh! 'I've Just Seen a Face'! I love that one." Strumming her fingers quickly across the strings once more, Maggie launched into the song without hesitation, singing it as loud as she could while bouncing her head along to the fast paced rhythm. Paul's smile slipped from his face.

John's bark of laughter echoed through the room as he saw Paul pale. "Unless she's been hiding in the cupboard of your music room, Paul, I'd say she's got you on that one."

Paul swallowed dryly, feeling slightly unnerved by the whole exchange as he watched John go up to her, and give her a warm pat on the back as the blood rushed through his ears. It had to have been some sort of coincidence.

"It's a good one though." John said off-handedly. "Why haven't you shared it with me yet?"

"I, uh-" Paul blinked and swallowed, shaking his head to try and clear it a little. "I've been saving up ideas for the album to go with 'Eight Arms To Hold You'."

Maggie snorted before she could stop herself, and then quickly covered her mouth with both hands when three pairs of eyes turned to stare at her outburst, John's right eyebrow cocked up curiously. "Um, you may just want to think of a new title for your movie is all," she said by way of explanation, a note of apology coloring her voice.

"There's no way you could have known that though," Paul protested thinking only of his song. "We don't start shooting 'til March. That's half a year away."

"I'm just impressed that she's heard a Paul song before me." John laughed clearly amused by seeing Paul so clearly rocked by it all. And by a bird no less. Turning to Maggie, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, leaning into her with a shifty look. "You're going to need to clue me into all of Paul's best songs. Then the two of us can team up and record them instead. We'll split the profits 80/20!" He shot Paul a teasing look, but Paul only turned away, scowling. "Oh come on, Paulie," John laughed. "I was only joking."

Walking over to his bass, a scowl set firmly against his lips, Paul replied, "We have work to do." John rolled his eyes, watching as his friend fell into yet another one of his strategic silent treatments.

"I thought we were going to wait until Mal gets back from the canteen with our lunch," George commented.

Throwing the strap over his shoulder, Paul looked at George out of the corner of his eye. "I just want to run through some stuff. That way we're not wasting anyone's time when it comes time to record."

"Come off it, Paul," John muttered. "Take a breather. Ringo's not even back yet to play. We can't do a proper run through without drums and we all know how you are when it comes to being proper. The way I remember it, is that we have to do it right, or we don't do it at all. Isn't that what you keep telling me?" Paul glared as he ignored John, picking at his bass sullenly, plucking out a note or two.

Maggie looked back and forth between all of them, wondering if maybe music would let the tension ease a little. Slightly hesitant and afraid of sticking her nose where it didn't belong, Maggie took a deep breath. She wanted to help them seeing as she was the cause of the tension in the room. "I know how to play the drums a bit. I'm not great with the cuts but I can keep a beat." Both John and George looked at her in amusement and astonishment. "If you want, I could run through some stuff with you guys until Ringo gets back. But only if it would help. I don't want to intrude more then I already have," she offered, looking at them hesitantly, almost afraid to see how they would react. Truth be told, she was almost hoping they would say no. At least that way the pressure would be off of her.

Paul had raised his head for a quick excuse as to why she couldn't play but before he could say anything, John moved and snatched up Ringo's sticks, tossing them to her with a grin. "You never told me they let birds play drums in the future too," he teased.

Sitting down and feeling her heart beat rapidly against her chest, Maggie gave the snare a few taps. She did it under the pretense of trying to get a feel for it, but knew it was only a stall tactic as she tried to calm herself down. While playing with the Beatles was a dream to any musician, Maggie couldn't shrug the feeling that it just didn't feel right. But John was standing in front of her, smiling at her gently.

"What else are you keeping from me, eh?"

Pushing down her nerves, she tossed John a wicked look. "I forgot to tell you that you have twelve more children and that all of them are girls."

A look of fear crossed John's face and for a moment he believed her. Maggie smiled at him though, sending both George and John into peals of laughter.

Moving over to his guitar, John picked it up, and went straight into 'No Reply'. Maggie grinned to herself, drumming along to the beat and singing quietly under her breath. John caught her eye though, nodding encouragingly and soon her voice rose. She laughed at the incredulity of the situation. When she woke up this morning, she never expected to be singing with The Beatles, playing with The Beatles, and on Ringo's very own Ludwig drum kit no less! It took every bit of self-control that she had not to squeal with delight at the entire situation. Her fan-girl heart danced about excitedly, especially when John grinned right back at her, catching her expression and reading her thoughts. Paul, watching the entire interplay between the two, stood back, his mood darkening as the song played on.

* * *

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. :)