Break Me One More Time [McLennon]

in which paul needs to work on his conversation skills

When Paul woke up again, he found himself in the sofa in the living room of the flat he shared with John, George, and Ringo. He was in his suit again, and when he sat up and looked at the clock he saw that it was only six in the morning.

    "Fucking time travel," Paul huffed, running his hand over his face.

     Then he had a thought, a sudden thought that had him running to his and John's shared room.

     When he saw John curled up safely beneath the blankets, snoring lightly, a huge weight that had been there for just a few seconds was immediately lifted.

     John was safe, the Shadows hadn't taken him..

     But why?

     Paul laid down on the sofa, staring up at the ceiling and trying to figure out some scenario in which the Shadows not taking John was one hundred percent a good thing, but he was beginning to think there wasn't one. His theory, as much as he wished it was not his theory, was that they hadn't taken John because they had bigger, more painful plans and if that didn't scare the shit out of Paul then absolutely nothing did.

    He got off the couch a while later and made some tea, standing in the kitchen and drinking it. He tried not to think of his short time spent as the Shadows' hostage, but he could still feel the burn of his muscles, the melting of his skin...

     He shook himself from his trance and downed his tea just as John walked into the kitchen. "Morning, love," he smiled. He wrapped his arms around Paul and kissed him lovingly. "You were up early this morning."

     "Hm," Paul ran his fingers through John's hair.

      You're safe, Paul wanted to say, you're safe and alive and here with me and I can touch you and you're safe.

     "What time do we have to be at the studio today?" John asked.

     "Nine," Paul said, glancing up at the clock that said it was quarter past seven now. "So we should leave around quarter past eight, eight thirty. Ringo and George should be getting up soon.. I hope so anyway."

     "Not too soon, I hope." John smiled and pulled Paul closer, kissing him deeply.

     Paul responded to the kiss in kind, holding onto John as if his life depended on it. He was desperate to feel John's skin, clothes, hair beneath his fingertips. He needed it, needed physical proof that John was okay.

     You're safe. You're alive. You're here with me. I can touch you. You're safe.

     As John deepened the kiss, Paul got a feeling in the pit of his stomach that something just wasn't right. His muscles clenched up in fright and he held onto John a little tighter.

     Slowly, as he continued to kiss John, he opened his eyes, and there, with his arms crossed and a smirk playing at his lips, stood Barney.

      Paul's eyes grew wide.

     Barney grinned and gave him two thumbs up.

     Paul stared him down, trying to silently yell at him and tell him to leave.

     Barney grinned, gave him another thumbs up, mouthed "Nice!", then he was gone into thin air.

~~~

     Hours after Paul, John, George, and Ringo had gotten back from the recording studio and John, George, and Ringo had gone to sleep, Paul was in the kitchen waiting for Barney to show up.

     The first thing Barney said when he did show up was, "So, Paul, how was your morning?"

     Paul crossed his arms and glared at Barney. "That was extremely risky and you know it! What if John had seen you? What would we have done? How do we explain that some guy just appeared in our flat?!"