Somebody's Baby

Chapter 10: Oh, Baby, You've Changed

George retrieved his briefcase and a few other items from the control room. The haze of lust began to wear off some, and now reality was starting to set in. I felt stupid for getting turned on so quickly, for letting him get to me. Whatever, I was in too deep now, and I had to follow through and go with him. I should have stuck to my guns...

Most of the staff had left, but George Harrison was still sitting on a stool strumming his guitar. His eyes flickered over to me with a look of concern.

"You ok?" He mouthed. I read his lips and nodded. He smiled in a way that showed off his adorable teeth, then returned his attention to his guitar.

He looked exhausted, but glorious, with that sickeningly sweet grin on his face. I watched his long fingers pick at the strings, hypnotized by him once again. I blushed and stood frozen, a fluttering taking over my chest.

I felt pissed off when George Martin snaked his arm around me, "Ready?" He asked.

No. "Sure."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

We pulled up to a rusted brick building with vines crawling up the outer walls. There were two large paned windows on each side of a jet-black door, which had a small staircase leading up to it. Charming, serene, and much more humble than I had anticipated.

George and I got out of his car. I looked around the area, taking it all in, as he led us up the steps and into his home. I don't know what I expected upon arrival, but I hadn't anticipated seeing his kids right away. Whatever lingering arousal I felt went away when he shut the front door and a little boy in bright red pajamas emerged from the hallway. He was clutching a paper in his hand and ran toward George, hurling his arms up to be held.

"Hello, trouble." George scooped the boy into his arms, twirling him around. The boy giggled. "I drew a honeybee!" He told his father proudly, as he handed him the picture. He had the same accent as his George.

"How delightful," he kissed his son on the head, "Would you like to meet my friend?"

"Gregory, this is Eloise," he said, pointing to me.

"Hi Gregory," I said with a smile. He buried his face in his dad's shoulder, ignoring me.

"Now, you mustn't be bashful. It's impolite," George said.

"Hey, I understand. I get nervous around new people, too." I said in my sweetest voice to Gregory. He didn't budge.

I could barely see the front of his sleep shirt, but I was able to make out a familiar character, "Is that Bugs Bunny on your pajamas?"

He shifted his head slightly, so one-half of his face was still against his dad, but one of his blue eyes could watch me. He nodded.

"Ehhh, what's up Doc?" I did a flawless Bugs Bunny impression, followed by exaggerated carrot-crunching sounds. Gregory giggled.

"How old are ya, Gregory?" I continued speaking in my Bugs Bunny voice. He smiled and lifted his hands to show me six fingers.

"Just a minute, partna! You can't be that old now, can ya?"

He nodded again, a wide grin spreading across his face, "I am six."

"I hadn't realized you were such a gifted impressionist," George said, smiling, "C'mon Greg, let's give Bugs Bunny a tour."

We walked into the living area, which was a bit disheveled but nicely decorated. The sofas were cream-colored and faced the two windows I had been admiring from the outside of the building. The walls held various pieces of fine art, the floors littered with toys and children's books. It looked delightfully lived-in.