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, what does happen at Donovan's party? Does Maggie Sue run off with Mick? Does Maggie Sue give in and try drugs? Do John and Paul finally give into their feelings and run off together? Find out all this and more...

Chapter Thirteen

By the time they arrived, the party was in full swing. Girls draped themselves over boys as music blared in the background and the sweet scent of smoke swirled around them in a white haze. Maggie's fingers tightened on John's arm a little as they entered the house and he turned to her and gave her an encouraging smile. She was excited about getting to meet Donovan and the Stones, but she was nervous, especially now that she was inside the house. She knew that she was working herself up over nothing - after all, she was so cool and calm with the Beatles. Why was she going all fangirl thinking about meeting Donovan? She couldn't wait to talk to him about his Sunshine Superman album… it was so perfect from start to finish, especially the songs "Guinevere" and "Legend of a Girl Child Linda." But then reality began to set in as Maggie realized she didn't know if Donovan had even released that album yet. And she had no idea what the Stones had released yet either. She was fairly certain that Satisfaction was out, but still, the simple fact was, when it came to bands like the Stones, Donovan, Led Zeppelin, and Pink Floyd, (were they even a band yet?) she simply didn't know anything about them other then their music!

She couldn't even claim to be a fan for fear of saying something wrong like "Oh Mick, I absolutely love Wild Horses!" and have him think she was bonkers because she'd just been fawning over a song that he hadn't even conceived of yet, much less written. This was going to be more difficult then she thought. Knowing everything about the Beatles was not the same as knowing everything about the sixties music scene.

"Did you want a drink?" John asked, interrupting her reverie and leaning down to kiss her. Maggie smiled up at him and nodded, trying to force her concerns from her mind. This was a party, and it was Swinging London, and by golly, she was going to have fun! Before she knew it, there was a drink in her hand, one in John's and they were being steered over to the very same people she'd been in anticipation of meeting.

Standing before her was Mick Jagger. He oozed sex appeal, his scary modern day appearance forty years off.

"Mick, this is my old lady, Miss Margaret. Maggie, luv, this is Mick of The Rolling Stones, a shite band that will never amount to anything," John said by way of introducing the two of them.

"Oh, Mick! I absolutely love Wild Horses, though I think The Sundays cover version is a bit better…" Maggie said, blurting out the very thing she had decided she would definitely not say, and immediately felt like an idiot.

"What's that, luv?" Mick asked as he leaned in. "It's hard to hear you over the music."

"Uh, nothing," Maggie replied, relieved that her blunder had gone unheard. "Are you guys working on an album now?"

"Yes, nearly done, though we're still arguing over a title, and what's to be our first single," Mick answered politely, though she noticed that he was looking somewhat below her eye-line. Was she that bad-looking that he couldn't even look her in the face?

Maggie tilted her head a bit, and bent her neck down, trying to catch Mick's eye. "Which song do you want for the first single?" Maggie inquired, still hoping for a clue about which Stones album they were just finishing.

"Paint it Black – I think it's one of our best. Your friend George talked us into adding sitar to it and I'm really digging it," Mick's gaze lazily moved up, until he was finally looking her in the eyes, which somehow seemed more bold and intimate than when he had apparently been starting at her chest. He licked his lips, those famous lips.

"I'd love to hear it," Maggie said, happy to hear a reference to her favorite Stones song.

"Sure, luv, maybe I'll play it for you later, if you can ditch the Beatle. They're a shite band really, just a flash in the pan," Mick leaned in and whispered, giving her a little wink and a friendly leer.

Maggie was equally amused and put-off. Could any of them have guessed that the Stones would still be making music in the 21st century? Or that the Beatles would only last a few more years before breaking up, with resentment on all sides?

Maggie hardly knew what to think about Mick himself – she knew that back in the day, Mick was supposed to be quite sexy, and now she could see why. In person, he exuded a raw sexuality that was almost overpowering, even when he was answering mundane questions about their next album. For a second she missed George, and how instantly comfortable she was with him, and how they got each other's interest in music and guitars. Yes, the Beatles were more her style. They may not have been the innocents they had been painted to be, but compared to the Mick they were comfortable and fun. Maggie wondered what her reaction to a group like Zeppelin would be – the stories about them made Mick (and the Beatles) look like schoolboys.

Mick sauntered off after a heavily made-up blonde caught his eye and beckoned to him. Maggie blushed and buried her head in John's shoulder. "Oh that was awful! Could have been more awkward and idiotic?" she moaned. John just laughed and patted her back, "There, there Miss Margaret; I thought you were charming. Besides, Mick wasn't even listening to you; he was staring at your tits the whole time." This caused Maggie to only blush deeper to realize that John (and probably everyone else) had been aware of her discomfort. John laughed at her again. "Come on, luv, let's go mingle a bit more and see who else we can get to make you blush, or better yet, vomit like you did with me when we first met, but mind my shoes please, they're my favorite," John teased as he led her over to another group chatting people.

Even after her rough start with Mick, things seemed to be OK…for a while. But eventually the reality of the perfect little world that she had been living in these past few weeks was changing before her eyes as she watched joints being lit and lines being snorted off of the available finger. Mick and the blonde were over the corner, practically having sex right in front of everyone. Maggie looked away. John's arm was swung sloppily around her shoulder as they sat on a sofa. A joint and various other substances were passed around, all of which Maggie denied with a little wave of her hand. A few raised eyebrows were shot her way, but the comments didn't go further. Maggie fidgeted nervously beneath the weight of John's arm, glancing away as once more she turned down what was being offered. Her movement brought John's attention out of the conversion he was having. He looked down at her, frowning a little as he noticed her discomfort. The white blunt was between his fingers, headed towards his mouth for a second puff, but at the look Maggie had on her face, he passed it off, deciding that maybe tonight he should keep things at a minimum.

As the conversation turned from music to things that only seemed profound if your blood was coursing with chemicals, Maggie stood, deciding that maybe she should get herself another drink. She'd been nursing her first one all evening. She rarely got drunk, and the few times it had happened, she'd made sure she was with close friends she trusted. She'd seen too many "After School Specials" about drinks spiked with roofies, and girls taken advantage of at parties. She doubted roofies were actually an issue in the 60s. Still, she wasn't comfortable here. In fact, she felt totally out of her element.

Wandering through the crowded room, she waved the smoke from her eyes and tried to ignore the music, music that she had once loved but now found to be a soundtrack for a night that seemed to be headed to places she didn't want to go. In 2006, she was considered normal and average for not doing drugs. After all, she didn't run around with any rock stars. But here, she was a stick in the mud. Uncool. Not worthy of the legendary John Lennon. As she wove in between dancers, she bumped into a couple that had their hands snaked all over each other and their lips locked so tightly they would soon need to come up for air, or suffocate. "Oh, I'm so sorry…" Maggie started to say but broke off as she saw the face of the man she'd bumped break away from the brunette he had been kissing. Flashing a sloppy grin at her, George put a finger to his lips, winked at Maggie as if she were in cahoots with him, and pulled the dark haired girl up the stairs behind him.

Reality.

Once again reality kept encroaching on her fantasies. Everyone knew the Beatles cheated on their wives. Everyone knew it. Hell, they were all joking just the other night at Paul's about how the groupies compared notes! But to see it so casually done, almost as if it were only a joke….

Reality.

Again, she reminded herself that she knew the Beatles were no innocents. But that still didn't keep her from feeling a stab of betrayal at seeing George, her friend George, with a woman other than his wife.

No longer wanting alcohol, she poured herself a glass of water with shaky hands. Drinking it calmed her nerves some, and after taking a few deep breaths she felt ready to go back to the party and have a good time. Besides, she was there with John, and that was enough for her. As she turned back to look towards John, about to call out to him and see if maybe he wanted something as well, she felt her stomach clench.

Sitting on his lap was a blond, her lashes rising and falling flirtatiously, as she batted her eyes at him, smiling softly; a red head was sitting in Maggie's seat with her hand resting on his thigh and a simpering smile on her face. John smiled back at both of them politely as the blond pushed herself against him, her breasts nearly popping out of her obscenely tight sweater. The redhead started tracing circles up his thigh with the tip of her index finger. As the blond wound her arm around his neck, he at least had the decency to take both of them by the wrist and gently push them away from him. They went away with a little pout, rebuffed. They hadn't been the first tonight, and they probably wouldn't be the last.

Closing her eyes, Maggie swallowed. What was she doing? She knew the history of these boys' lives, she knew their tendencies. This very subject had been a topic of conversation between her and her online friends countless times. And yet, here she was, thinking that everything was going fine and that maybe, with her presence here, things would change. How naive she had been. If John was willing to cheat on Yoko, the supposed love of his life, then he would be willing to cheat on Maggie too. It would only be a matter of time.

She didn't think she could do this.

Going back to the sofa, Maggie sunk down beside John again, but kept her distance, stiffening as his arm automatically came to wrap around her shoulder once more. Maggie remained sitting up straight though for the rest of the night, her gaze and her stance distant until they left.

On the car ride home, not a word was exchanged. John tried to bring about conversation once they entered the flat, asking her if she had fun, teasingly asking if Mick was everything she ever dreamed of, but Maggie only shrugged before heading to bed.

That night they lay on opposite sides of the bed, neither touching, without even the exchange of a goodnight kiss.

John felt the headache long before he even woke. He felt something swarm within his mind, felt his bones ache, and he felt the dryness of his throat and the stickiness of his mouth. His stomach turned slightly and he knew that this wasn't the aftermath of the party, but because sleep last night hadn't come to him.

He knew on the way home that Maggie had been upset. A blind man could see that she had retreated in to her own thoughts, but he had thought that with a few jokes, she might loosen up. The hope had fallen away though as soon as they arrived home, and she went straight to bed without so much as a glance in his direction. Then she had pretended to be asleep when he wandered in, an hour later.

He had no idea what he'd done wrong. Obviously he'd done something wrong; otherwise she'd be talking to him. But for the life of him he had no idea! He hadn't done any drugs (other than one puff of a joint), he hadn't shagged anyone who wasn't named Maggie, he'd been attentive to her all night, and even left the party early when it was obvious she was not enjoying herself. Hell, by his normal standards he'd been a saint! Yet there it was, she was mad at him.

Women! He'd never understand them. But they sure understood men. It really wasn't fair.

Sighing, John reached up, scrubbing a hand across his face. They needed to talk. She'd tell him what he'd done wrong, he'd apologize and have done with it, and they'd be back to how things were before. Smiling to himself, he heard a slight shuffling sound breaking the stillness of the room that roused him from his thoughts. He opened his eyes and felt any planned words he might have had die in his throat. Maggie stood before him, her bag set out before her, as she shoved her few possessions inside. John sat and watched her silently for a moment, watching the way her hair fell in her eyes and the way she focused on her task so as she wouldn't have to think of anything else.

"What are you doing?" he asked quietly after a few beats. Her actions were clear, but he couldn't find anything else to say. This was not a situation he ever thought possible. They had been so happy, things had been so perfect. How had he driven her away?

"What's it look like I'm doing, John?" she said calmly, folding a blouse and stuffing it inside the open bag. "I'm packing."

John blinked. "Why? You planning on going somewhere?" he swallowed thickly. John knew why she was packing, although he held a vain hope that he was mistaken. He had to stall her. He had to figure out what he had done wrong and had to find a way to fix it before she walked out of his life once more. He wouldn't be able to handle it a second time, not after knowing how wonderful and full-color life was when she was truly his. The first time she had visited he'd had but a taste of happiness. Now that he knew what it was to be happy, there was no way he'd give it up.

"No, John, I frequently pack up my things just for shits and giggles, just to see how long it will take me." Closing her bag, Maggie squeezed her eyes shut after seeing John's face. He looked as though he'd been slapped. She'd not meant it to come out like that. She just knew that if she let her guard down for even a moment with this man she'd lose her resolve.

Sighing she focused on her bag and zipped it closed. Packing had taken much less time than she had thought it would; she had less than she thought she did. Shaking her head, trying to clear from it the small voice that was trying to get her to just crawl back in bed and never leave again, Maggie grabbed the shoulder strap of her bag and headed towards the door. John was by her side in seconds though, blocking her exit.

"Wait just one minute, Miss Margaret, there's no need to get shirty with me. It's a fair question," he said, trying to look into her eyes. She turned away from him though, refusing to meet his questioning gaze. "One minute we're having the time of our lives, shagging like rabbits, and the next you are mad at me for no reason that I can see and leaving in a huff. I think I deserve some sort of an explanation at the very least."

Sighing again, Maggie set her bag down. "What is there to explain? I came back to warn you again, and now I've warned you. And I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at myself for staying, for allowing myself to get attached to you, for believing that this fantasy in my head might actually be true. Last night was a huge wakeup call. You really are John Lennon, and you are always going to be John Lennon, and you are always going to be involved with sex, drugs, and rock n' roll. Always. It's part of who you are, and I can't change that, nor do I want to because I love you for who you are. But I don't fit with that lifestyle, John. I don't fit with your lifestyle… I don't fit. You can't push a square peg into a round hole, John, and so I'm leaving before it gets too difficult for both of us to detach and end it." Her voice was devoid of emotion. It was cool and calculated, almost as though she were explaining a complex mathematical problem, and far more reasonable than John had heard from her since her first trip. She was shrugging their relationship off as a mathematical equation where X could never equal Y, so why bother trying to find a solution when she had already deduced that there wasn't one.

Frowning, John shook his head, hoping to shake something loose in order to better understand what exactly was happening. "Wait a minute, you're leaving because I took a hit off a blunt and some birds flirted with me…and I didn't even encourage them in anyway. In fact, I pushed them away!"

"But that's precisely the point, John. You don't need to encourage them. They are always going to be there. Always! All you ever need do is whistle, and you'll never have to go without. As for drugs, yeah, tonight you just took one hit, but it won't stop there. I know it won't. It will get worse and worse, and I just don't know if I can deal with that. Any of that. In fact, I know I can't."

"What?" John felt his stomach twist at the thought. "No! I would never cheat on you…"

"Right," she laughed cynically. "Just like you never cheated on Cynthia. Or Y…," she stopped herself from saying the other woman's name.

With his gaze darkening, John shook his head. "That's not fair. This is different. We're different." Reaching out, he tried to touch her; Maggie lurched from him though before his fingers could come into contact with her skin.

"Fine," she said, calm once again. "We're different. But let's look at this logically. You cheated on Cynthia all the time. All. The. Time. You would have cheated on Cynthia with me the first night we met had I not stopped you. Does the fact that our relationship is different make what you did to Cynthia okay? Does it make the fact that last night George was going up into a bedroom with a girl who was NOT Pattie okay? How about the fact that Paul keeps this flat so he can cheat on Jane? I assume you so obligingly stay away when he needs it…" John's eyes widened slightly at the last fact. He sometimes wondered what all was known about them in the future. Clearly none of them had any secrets left. "The logical conclusion that I can deduce from all this is when the next girl catches your eye, and you cheat on me with her, it will be OKAY, because it was just sex and it didn't mean anything. Does that all sound that OKAY to you?" Breathing harshly, Maggie finally looked at him, feeling her throat beginning to cinch shut. She had to get out of here before she no longer had the willpower to leave.

John stared at her, open mouthed, her words stinging like a slap to the face and a blow to the gut. With his shoulders hunching forward, he could barely find it in himself to look at her, not even trying to hide how much her words hurt him, yet he didn't answer. He couldn't bring himself to answer because he had nothing to say to refute her logic. Everything she said had been true, and he knew nothing he could say to change that. It was easy for him to push birds away when Maggie was there. But what if she wasn't around when temptation came calling?

Maggie both felt and saw his hesitation, and so, ripping her eyes away from his turned away. "I thought so," she said sadly, simply, and without any hint of accusation. Just calm resignation and acceptance. She picked up her bag, turned, and walked out the door.

John didn't even try to stop her.

* * *

A/N:

OH NOES! Maggie Sue has left John! Whatever will happen next!!???!! Is the story over?? What will John do!??!

Drama! Excitement! Adventure! Time Travel! All this and more next time in Chapter 14.

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. :)