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.

So now that Maggie and Paul have made nice, will the story become boring?

Chapter Twelve

Sticking the spare key into the lock, Maggie opened the front door of the flat to find the smell of pancakes greeting her. Entering the kitchen, Maggie looked at John a little curiously; he was making pancakes for the two of them… for lunch.

"Went to go see Paul, did you?"

Setting her purse down, Maggie looked at him with a slight smile. "Yes." Hoisting herself up on the counter next to him, she watched as he mixed the batter. "Why are you wearing a pink apron?"

John shrugged. "The boys gave it to me for a joke and I've decided to embrace it so that the joke is on them. Pink is my color, don't you think?" He batted his eyes at her. Maggie shook her head and laughed at him. The things that were left out of the biographies were always so much more interesting. "So, how did it go?" Peering at her questioningly, John narrowed his eyes protectively. "Did Paul behave himself, or do I need to go defend your honor?"

Swinging her legs a little, Maggie shrugged. "Not at first." Seeing the look that crossed John's face, Maggie spoke quickly to stave off the impending anger. "But once I explained a few things to him, he was fine. We're okay now… I think."

"You think?" John asked and Maggie shrugged. You could never be completely sure in Paul's case she figured. Firing up the stovetop and pouring some batter into a pan, John shifted his weight from foot to foot. "How did you manage that?" he asked, feeling a lot more curious than he actually sounded, and oddly enough, he feeling a twinge of jealousy over the fact that Paul and Maggie had come to an understanding… without him. "What did you say? I thought Macca was going to sulk for at least another month or two. He's the sulky sort, you know."

"That's between Paul and I." Maggie smiled.

That made John pause a bit, as his jealousy flared again. "Oh, I see," he said while flipping the pancake. "You and Paulie are keeping secrets from me now. I suppose I'd better check to make sure all your babies aren't born with Macca's eyelashes then." He tried to sound like he was teasing, but even to his own ears it sounded forced.

Reaching out, Maggie took John's hand and pulled him towards her. John gave a quick glance towards the stovetop before moving between her legs, watching as she looked at him seriously. Any hope he had of her not catching the hint of jealousy in his voice was dashed. But then Maggie smiled beautifully at him, laying all his fears to rest.

"You don't have to worry about any of my babies having Paul's eyelashes, or his exquisite lips, or his gorgeous hazel eyes, or his dark silky soft hair…" John rolled his eyes, readying himself to make a sarcastic comment about "the cute one". Maggie wouldn't let him though. "I'm in love with someone else..."

John perked up at the word 'love.' "Oh yeah? And who might that be?"

Maggie looked at him conspiratorially before leaning down to whisper into his ear. "It's a secret… can I trust you to keep it?"

John smiled. "No."

With a little sigh, Maggie shrugged. "Well then, in that case it's Ringo!" She laughed.

Pulling back, John watched the slow and steady grin spreading across her face. With a glint in his eye, John pressed himself into her. "That's quite enough of that, you wanton hussy!"

Grabbing her by the waist, John pulled her towards him, kissing her deeply. Maggie moaned into his lips, threading her fingers through his hair. All thoughts of pancakes were quickly forgotten.

Lying in bed, the sheets draped across his waist, John watched Maggie with a bit of confusion. Maggie was standing in front of the wardrobe, wearing one of his shirts, sorting through her own meager pile of clothing with growing irritation. Muttering to herself, she jerked a few blouses out of the drawers, contemplated them for a moment, before tossing them aside. It was during one violent fit, when she threw a blue shirt to the floor, glaring at it as it landed next to her feet, that John had to hide his face, fearing he was about to burst out laughing at her little display at any moment.

"That's it, it's official!" she finally shouted. "I have nothing decent to wear tonight!"

John perked up at this thought and sat up a little further in bed. "Fantastic!"

"Fantastic?" Maggie turned her body towards him slightly, a pair of jeans that she was getting ready to toss at the wall hanging limply from her hands.

"Yes," John nodded eagerly. "I prefer when you are dressed indecently. And if you have nothing indecent to wear, then you can go in just your knickers." That thought alone caused his eyes to dilate. "On second thought," he grinned. "That's an even better idea!"

With a shake of her head, Maggie threw her jeans at him. "You're not helping, John."

"I am helping," he pouted.

"Oh yeah? How's that?"

"I'm supervising and providing moral support for you in your time of trouble." He nodded to assert his opinion before looking at her lecherously, his eyes roaming to her bum. "Also, I'm enjoying the view."

Maggie rolled her eyes, and then glared at his advances. Turning back to the wardrobe, another growl of frustration left her lips. "I still can't believe you've just now told me that we are going to a party at Donovan's house AND that the Rolling Stones will be there!"

Flopping back on the bed, John sighed. "I don't understand what you are so worried about. It's just Donovan, Mick and Keith."

"John, to you it's just Donovan, Mick, and Keith, but to me it's famous musicians I've been listening to my entire life," she cried exasperatedly. John was still looking at her, confused. Shaking her head, Maggie forced herself to relax, hoping that maybe joking around with him would calm her nerves. "Besides, everyone knows the Rolling Stones are better then The Beatles."

Quirking an eyebrow her way, John folded his hands behind his head. "Are they now?"

"Yes," she nodded with a sly grin. "And Mick, wow, he's sooooooo sexy. Do you know if he's single? Not that that would matter to him, I'm sure…"

Tossing the sheets to the side, John rose from the bed, looking at her pointedly. "Well, I do know that YOU'RE not single, so I think that pretty much takes care of that." Tossing her a stern look, John walked to the closet and pulled it open. He had to stand a little straighter in order to get a box down from the top shelf, but immediately slouched again once his task was done.

"Not that that would matter to him, I'm sure!" she called to him teasingly. Her words soon died on her tongue though as she saw the box in his hands and curiosity got the better of her. "What have you got there?"

"I don't know why I didn't think of this before," he muttered to himself. Setting the box on the bed, he pulled the lid off, pushed aside paper and listened as it crackled through the room. His fingers soon touched fine silk and before Maggie could get any closer, he was grasping the scarlet material in his hands and pulling it out of the box.

"You kept it!" she cried, surprise and joy taking hold of her. The same red dress she had worn all those years… weeks… whatever… ago hung in his hand.

"Of course I kept it," he said, a little offended at the thought of getting rid of it. "It's all I had of you. Besides, you never did pay me back for it. Thief."

Shaking her head slowly, Maggie walked up to him, feeling herself growing breathless. With her arms wrapped around his waist, her head resting against his chest, she found herself content to just breathe him in. "I never knew that you were so sweet and sentimental."

John fidgeted nervously but wrapped his arms around her anyway. "Yeah well, don't tell Macca… I've got a reputation to maintain, you know."

"Mind if I borrow it for tonight?" she asked, looking down at the dress that still remained in his hands.

"I don't know, what do I get in return?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows at her.

Maggie laughed, slapping at his arm as a lecherous grin spread across his face. This man was insatiable. "We just had pancakes!"

"But I want pudding now!" Leaning down he began to nibble at her ear. Running his fingers up her back, he pulled her closer. Maggie sighed contentedly; standing on tippy toes and pressing her body firmly to his, she felt the shivers start to run up and down her spine and the heat pool in the pit of her stomach.

"I'm not a pudding, John," she protested half-heartedly in between kisses.

"Are you sure?" He frowned. "Because I seem to remember you being quite tasty."

"Mmmmmmmm," Maggie said, licking the juncture between his neck and shoulder. "You're the tasty one…."

No more words were exchanged as John picked her up by the waist and carried her back to the bed.

* * *

A/N:

We figured we owed you at least one happy chapter before we piled on the drama again...ooooh do I detect a bit of forshadowing? Tune in next time to see how Maggie Sue fares at Donovan's party!

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. :)