The Trial Of Temptation

lennon

You woke up bright and early the next day. Tom was somehow already awake when you got up, so you rolled out of bed to go find him. You found that he was making scrambled eggs in the kitchen, dressed in a cream colored turtleneck and brown slacks. You crept up behind him and wrapped your arms around him waist.
"God dammit. She's here." Tom muttered to himself. You squeezed him tighter, rocking back and forth.
"You love me." You hissed. Tom nodded and spun your around, swatting your head with his spatula.
"I do." He chuckled. You ran your hands up his body up to his chiseled cheeks.
"What's the plan for the day?" You asked. Tom raised his eyebrows.
"Oh, nothing, just meeting a Beatle." He said in a matter of fact tone. You squealed and jumped around the kitchen, your arms flailing about as if independent from your body. Tom just stood and leaned against the counter, his face full of both amusement and disappointment.
"Christ, y/n." Tom said, displaying a worried facepalm. You spun around and grabbed Tom's freckled hand.
"What should I wear?" You asked. Tom brought a hand to his chin in thought.
"You could look through Sandra's shit if you want." He suggested. You gasped.
"Really?" You said with a beaming smile. Tom widened his eyes and nodded.
"Yeah, sure." He asserted. You gave him a large, wet kiss on the cheek and bolted up the stairs to find a good outfit. You dig through Sandra's clothes until you found the perfect look. A short belted brown dress with a babydoll collar. You paired it with tights and black maryjanes, and you were set. You brushed your hair and did your makeup, and headed downstairs to show Tom. You walked in the kitchen to find him eating his eggs and reading from a brown folder. You leaned on the kitchen door, waiting for him to notice. You had to knock on the wall to capture his attention. He raised his eyebrows and nodded at the sight of you.
"Yeah, that works." He said. You crinkled your brows and walked over to him, resting your chin on top of his shaggy haired head.
"Does it just "work"?" You asked him, slightly hurt at his lack of enthusiasm. Tom chuckled and shook his head.
"No you look like a complete fucking troll." He breathed out. You swatted his arm.
"Go to hell. I'm fabulous." You announced. Tom smiled and pressed a kiss to the back of your hand.
"Don't have to tell me twice." He said. You smiled to yourself and sat down across from Tom at the place that he'd set for you. As you enjoyed your eggs, you found that on top of his 78 other talents, Tom was quite the cook. You wouldn't tell him that, though. He was cocky enough as it was. You and Tom left the house around 10 am to arrive at the SDS HQ at 10:30. It was a nice brick building near Times Square. You saw a few beatniks smoking a cigarette out front and felt like you were back in California. One of the kids smoking saw Tom exit the car, a smile quickly spreading over his face.
"Hayden?" He called out. Tom raised a hand up in hello.
"Hi Matty." He responded. The kid came bounding up to Tom, pulling him into a tight hug. Instead of awkwardly patting the kid's back, as he usually would've done, he hugged him back just as tightly. Tom pulled back to take a good look at the boy.
"God you look old." Tom asserted. The kid smiling and jabbed Tom in the stomach, causing him to laugh and lurch backward.
"Thanks Tom. Who's the dame?" Marty said in a thick Queens accent. You smiled and stuck out a hand for him to shake it.
"Y/n l/n." You told him. The kid smirked and raised an eyebrow at Tom.
"This your new broad?" He asked. Tom pulled you close to him with a long arm.
"I don't know if "broad" would be the term. But yeah, she's my girlfriend I guess." He told the kid. Matty pursed his lips.
"Well anyway, Lennon's coming in 30. Charlie an' all them are inside. Good to see you, dude." He said, patting Tom's arm. Tom thanked him and the two of you headed inside. Tom didn't knock, instead just letting himself in the door. You could hear voices and the rustling of papers right as you entered the building. You heard the pitter patter of footsteps grow louder in the distance.
"Tom?" A blond man said, emerging from behind a door. Tom smiled and waved to the guy.
"Charles Carrigan." Tom stated, smiling brightly. Charlie beamed and pulled Tom in for a hug. These SDS folks were big huggers. Charlie pulled away and looked over at you. You awkwardly waved. These people were probably so used to Tom and Sandra being together, that you probably were weird for them to be around.
"And who is this beautiful lady?" Charlie asked. Tom turned to you.
"Oh, this is y/n l/n. She's my girlfriend. Y/n, this is Charlie Carrigan. Helped found the SDS." Tom said, gesturing to his friend. Charlie stuck out a hand for you to shake, and you took it eagerly.
"You are both very lucky. I mean- wow. You guys are like gorgeous people." The man stammered. You blushed and smiled up at Tom.
"He certainly is." You asserted. Tom crinkled his brows at you and Charlie led the two of you to a meeting room where a few sharply dressed people were sitting and going through files.
Charlie pushed the door open, alerting them that you were here. The people all smiled and waved. You noticed a pretty blond girl shift slightly to look down when you entered the room.
"Uh, Tom I don't think you've met anyone here besides, uh- Sandy of course." Charlie said. You turned to Tom to see that his jaw was tensed and a veil of whiteness had covered his face.
"Uh, no I haven't." Tom breathed out. Charlie nodded.
"Okay so this is Joan Pratt, she's from Cali." Charlie said, gesturing to cute dark skinned girl wearing a yellow turtleneck. She waved with a toothy grin.
"This is George St.Peter, he's new." Charlie pointing to a larger brown haired bearded guy. He might've resembled jerry if he were thinner.
"This is Felicity Miller, her dad owns the Yankees." Charlie patted a small redhead on the shoulder. She was very pretty, dainty and curly. Looked very preppy.
"And uh, Sandra Cason of course." Charlie stammered. Sandra bit her lip and lazily threw a hand up in greeting.
"Guys, this is y/n l/n. And you know Tom." Charlie murmured. Felicity cleared her throat.
"Are you his girlfriend?" She said in a British accent. British family owns the Yankees? Ironic.
"I suppose I would be." You chuckled. Tom rubbed your back before taking a seat at the head of the table. You stood awkwardly for a time until Charlie pulled out a seat for you right next to Tom.
"How long have we got before he shows?" Tom asked. Sandra spoke up.
"20 minutes, give or take." She muttered. Tom's face went red as he scribbled something down on the paper. You looked over at Sandy, taking her in. She was quite a good looking person. Her hair was bright blonde and styled similarly to yours. She had bright blue eyes accompanied by long dark eyelashes. She was definitely out of her league with Tom, but you could definitely see the appeal. You weren't necessarily threatened by her, but you would surely rather have her not here than here. She was eyeing Tom down like predator to prey. She looked at him in a way that only 2 other people looked at him. You and Rennie. She saw straight through him with her icy stare, and tom could evidently feel it, as his fists clenched and unclenched periodically. You wished she would stop looking at him. She then turned her gaze to you. You looked away quickly, but you could feel her eyes on you as you tapped your fingers awkwardly on the table. All of the sudden, you heard a loud knock echo throughout the house. Everyone in the room fell silent.
"Alright who wants to go get him?" George said. Well you certainly weren't going to. That would be a disaster. Felicity popped up from her seat.
"I've already met Paul so I would probably be the best option." She piped up. Charlie raised his eyebrows and nodded.
"Uh, go ahead. Just bring him back here and remember to offer him beverage and food." Charlie said. You made eye contact with Tom and gave him an "oh my god this is really happening look." He smiled and looked away. You heard footsteps reproaching about a minute later. The door opened and there he was. Wearing a sweater vest over a shirt, his small round orange glasses perched atop his nose. Your heart beat a mile a minute. This was really John Lennon. The John Lennon that you in your friends in high school would scream cry about at every sleepover. You didn't know what to do. Should you get up and cheer for him? Bend at the knee? What the helm was appropriate to do when a god like that entered the room. You then heard something interesting outside the door. Another voice. A VERY familiar voice. You and Tom's eyes shot to meet each-others as Abbie Hoffman entered the room and gave John Lennon a playful pat on the back.