Tama of Tomeowrrow

The Virgin Gary

I walked happily among the cheering crowd as a group of men descended from an aircraft. I sidled up to Zari and meowed.

She smiled and picked me up, squinting at the four human males. "The newest musical sensation to cross the Atlantic—a group of young men from Liverpool who call themselves The Beatles—have just arrived at JFK. That's B-E-A-T, because that's the way they keep the beat," a reporter announced not far from us.

"Hey, Z, if you had to sleep with one, which one would it be?" Sara, disguised as a flight attendant, asked. Nyssa's scoff could be heard through the comms as she gently shoved Sara's shoulder.

"How can you even tell them apart?" Zari squinted once more at the four men.

"Well, Paul's the cute one, George is the quiet one, there's Ringo—" Ray started to explain.

"Never met an Englishman I haven't wanted to punch in the face," Mick interrupted, grumbling.

"Relax, Mick. If it wasn't for the British Invasion, there would be no Rolling Stones, no Led Zep, no Black Sabbath," Nate said, patting Mick on the shoulders.

"Black Sabbath," Mick muttered.

"Yup," Nate nodded.

"Well, then we need to protect these mopheads from whatever's screwing up history," Mick said.

"That's right, Mick," Nate affirmed, giving him a reassuring nod.

"So, Gideon sent us on a wild goose chase. This event in history is playing out exactly as it should," Zari said, shaking her head.

Bam!

"The British are coming! The British are coming!" a figure on a horse shouted, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. The crowd around the Beatles parted in confusion and alarm.

"Interesting fact: the real Paul Revere didn't actually say—Oh, my God, it's Paul Revere!" Ray gasped, his eyes widening as he took in the historical figure.

"I got this," Mick grunted, stepping forward.

"Who are you people? Where am I? Why are all those women screaming?" Paul Revere questioned frantically, looking around in bewilderment.

Mick simply knocked him out with a swift punch. "And now for the midnight ride of Ray Revere," Ray said, putting on Paul's hat and striking a dramatic pose.

"Sorry. Nate Revere to the rescue," Nate corrected, snatching the hat from Ray's head and placing it on his own.

"Now ring the alarm back in 1775," Sara said with a smile, giving Nate a nod of approval.

"I got a country to save, suckers!" Nate hollered as he mounted the horse. "See you back on the ship, Mr. Heywood," Nyssa said, her tone both affectionate and amused.

"The British are coming! The British are coming! Whoo!" Nate shouted, galloping off into the distance.

________

Arriving back at the Waverider, I quickly ran into Sara's office, eager for my post-mission treat. Zari, as usual, didn't disappoint. She handed me a treat, and I munched on it happily before padding over to my bed. I grabbed the rope toy Ava had given me a while back and looked up at Zari with a hopeful expression.

She sighed good-naturedly and grabbed the other end of the rope, engaging in a lazy game of tug-of-war. As we played, Nate flopped onto the floor next to us, looking exhausted but content. Not long after, Mick and Ray entered the office, taking the vacant seats in the room.

The room settled into a dull silence.

"Geez, who died?" Sara asked as she and Nyssa entered the office. "Oh, come on. We just met the Beatles and saved the Fourth of July," Sara said, her voice light but met with silence.