I Will [Paul McCartney/Beatles Fanfiction]

two

Freda carefully watched Paul all throughout the band's rehearsals that day, and even more carefully the day following it. He knew she was still stunned that he broke that reporter girl's camera back in the parking lot; what he didn't know was what she was going to do -- rather, what she did -- about it and when.

The Beatles were preparing for a concert they'd be having later that week, that was what all those rehearsals and practices were about. Sgt. Pepper, their latest album, was resonating very well with the media, which was something they hadn't expected due to the pretty drastic change in their style (and the heavy use of drugs that was involved with it), so this upcoming show needed to be something that would keep it up high on the charts.

A day had passed since the incident with the Polaroid and Paul was more aware of Freda's constant watching him than he ever was before. It really was pretty distracting; he'd missed a few notes while the lads were practicing "With a Little Help from My Friends," though the others didn't seem to notice, and missed even more during their rendition of "She's Leaving Home."

"Friday morning at nine o'clock she is far away
Waiting to keep the appointment she made
Meeting a man from the motor trade

She (What did we do that was wrong)
Is having (We didn't know it was wrong)
Fun (Fun is the one thing that money can't buy)
Something inside that was always denied
For so many years (Bye bye)

She's leaving home
Bye bye."

Freda clapped lightly as the boys began to put away their equipment, having gone over each song a few times, her eyes still never leaving Paul. For a moment, he stared back, not paying attention to the other Beatles as they tried to talk to him until John had to walk over and snap his fingers in front of his face.

"Coming, Macca?" he asked.

John had stopped referring to him as McCharmly after the wedding, and so, Macca was the nickname that took its place. It bothered Paul a little at first, but he eventually decided he needed to get over it, and he did.

"Hm?"

"We're going for a quick smoke," John gestured over his shoulder to Ringo and George. "Are you coming or not?"

He was going to say yes, but then felt that Freda was still watching him, this time trying to tell him to decline with her eyes. So, reluctantly, Paul did what he was asked to.

"No, that's alright," he shrugged. "Maybe next time?"

"Suit yourself, Macca." With that, John adjusted his glasses and walked off to the other two.

Paul sighed and turned to the secretary, who was standing in the doorway with her arms crossed, a sly smirk barely noticeable on her face. "Why?" he simply asked.

"Come ed for a second, will you?" Freda questioned back, ignoring the fact that he'd even spoken up.

Sighing, he followed her out into the hallway. She turned on her heel to face him once they were a decent distance away from the others, the smirk beginning to stretch further across her face once she saw the look on his face.

"Now," she said, "I want you to react to what I'm about to say as calmly as possible."

He raised an eyebrow skeptically, urging her to continue.

"Do you remember that girl from the parking lot yesterday?"

"Of course."

"Well..." Freda chuckled a little. "What would you say if I told you that you have a date with her tomorrow?"

"What?!"

"Yeah. You know, since you broke her Polaroid, I figured you needed to make it up to her somehow, so I called the number that was on her business card and arranged for you to meet her at that café across the street tomorrow after practice."

"What?!"

"And you're welcome, because you need a date to help you get over Jane and it took a long time to convince her, too."

"Freda!" Paul couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Just two words, McCartney, that's all you need."

"No, Freda!" was his choice.

"Well," Freda sighed amusedly. "Those weren't the two I was expecting. I was looking for a 'thank you,' but hey, you'll thank me someday. There's no hurry."

"No, Freda!" Paul repeated. "Why would you... Why would you want me to date her? Why couldn't I just take her out as a friendly thing? Why do I have to take her out at all?"

"A) you need to get over Jane, and she can help you with that, I know she can. You haven't been acting like yourself since the, er, wedding, and that's not exactly helping resolve the Faul case. B) it is a friendly thing, but a date at the same time. I think it'll benefit both of you."

"Who am I, Mr. Kite?" Paul was stressing now more than ever.

Freda put a hand on his shoulder. "Paul, please just trust me. I know you've already had a lot to deal with lately, but I need you to trust me. This will be good for you."

"Freda, why do..." He gave up halfway through the sentence, sighing. "Alright. Fine, but just this once."

"Gear! You won't regret it, I promise!" the secretary smiled. "Remember: tomorrow after practice at the café across the street."

As she began to walk past him, Paul thought of one thing he at least ought to know. "Hey, Freda?"

"Hm?"

"What's this bird's name, even?"

She couldn't believe she'd forgotten to tell him her name, but still, her smile just grew as if she wasn't at all surprised. "You're looking for a girl named Carmen, Paul. Carmen Dalton."

***

This is ridiculously short, sorry. :( I just thought this would be a good place to leave it off. I don't want to rush into things too fast, you know? :) I hope you enjoyed it anyway!