Break Me One More Time [McLennon]

in which all you need is love

     The bowler hats. Paul sure had missed those bowler hats.

     When you go hitchhiking, see, you need something that'll get people's attention. You need to stand out and be noticed. And since Paul and John were planning in hitchhiking all the way to Spain (though Paul already knew that they wouldn't make it any further than Paris), they really needed to stand out.

     First they hitchhiked all through England and then caught a ferry to the northern part of France. From there, they took a train that brought them to Reims. In Reims, they caught a ride with a guy delivering packaged foods to a super market in Paris.

     Paul was grinning from ear to ear when they stepped out of that man's truck, thanking him for the ride. He knew that they'd reached their final destination, even if John didn't realize it just yet...and he couldn't be happier. Paris was one of the best memories he had, not just of John but overall. It was one of his fav route memories and he held onto it everyday of his life. He kept the photographs in a photo album that was in his house. Every time he went home to England he would sit by the fireplace with a cup of tea and that photo album and he'd just look through it for hours, smiling to himself as he recalled old memories.

     "Smile, Macca," John said, pointing his camera at Paul. Paul laughed at him and just before he could stop and smile, John snapped the picture. "Come on, let's get a hotel. It's nearly sunset."

     "Good idea," Paul nodded.

     The two of them walked a few blocks until they found a hotel. It was decent looking so they looked to one another and shrugged then headed inside to book a room.

      Soon they were putting their bags and guitars (because of course they brought techie guitars!) down on their beds (which were small and far too firm and lumpy). Paul took his bowler hat off and spun it on his finger, whistling. "Well, Johnny, what do you say you and me go and check out the city?"

     "I say, let's fucking do it!" John grinned. "Come on!"

     Paul put his hat back on and John turned up the collar of his leather jacket, then they were off!

     They found a little cafe several blocks from their hotel and got a table outside. From where they were sitting, they had a perfect few of the Eiffel Tower. "Beautiful, innit?" Paul smiled and John watched him, watched how his eyes twinkled in the fading light. And, he noted, how they glistened with unshed tears.

     "Aw, don't tell me you're going soft on me, Paulie," John punched him playfully, grinning. Paul looked at him and smiled and a few stubborn tears escaped his beautiful, doe brown eyes and rolled down over his cheeks that were turning oink from the cold October air. "Is something wrong, Macca? You all right?"

      "Yeah, I'm fine," Paul nodded and chuckled. He wiped his eyes with the heels of his hands quickly and then looked up at John again, beaming. "Better than fine. I'm perfect. Couldn't get better than this... I just can't believe we're really here. It's so much nicer than I could have ever imagined."

     "I know," John nodded. "It's so nice and peaceful... No noisy crowds every night in the Cavern Club, no nagging Mimi.... God, we should just stay here forever!"

     "Oh, come on," Paul said. "What about the Beatles? Georgie is back home, too. And admit it, you love Mimi, no matter how much she gets on your nerves."

     "Yeah," John shrugged his shoulders. "It's great, though. Just you and me and the city of love." He winked and it was playful, but there was something so sincere and longing behind it that made Paul's breath catch in the back of his throat.