And Your Bird Can Sing

one shot Part 1

John sighed in frustration as he sat at his small writing desk with a pen in hand. He was asked to come up with a song for the new album, Revolver, Brian absolutely insisted it be done by him. John looked back at his clock placed in front of him, 1:13 a.m. He groaned and grabbed his pack of cigarettes and lit one for himself, forcing concentration.

What's something worth writing about.. I've had enough of Paul's shitty love songs. John inhaled the smoke deep and began doodling on his paper. He thought of the day's events, regrettably so. Brian had told Jane she could stay in the studio for the day for some stupid reason, of course Paul was the one that insisted upon it. He didn't know why, or care why, honestly. He knew Paul McCartney was his, and always would be. The only thing that bothered him about Jane being in the studio was that he wanted to get Paul alone, there was no guarantee that he'd leave her side should John call him away.

At one point, Paul left the recording room to get tea, and John more than willingly followed. He watched Paul, back facing him, pour tea into a cup slowly. John swallowed and waited for Paul to set the cup down before going up behind him and grabbing his waist. Paul jumped and turned around. He held onto John's arms, and then glanced at the hallway to make sure no one was there. He looked back up at John, and chuckled nervously.

John was inches away from Paul's face. He wanted to kiss him so badly, lately the two had been distant and John missed his dear lover so much it was beginning to physically hurt. He didn't put his lips to Paul's however, he was too good at analyzing the man's face. Paul wasn't in the mood for kissing, or even hugging. John leaned back but kept his grip on Paul's waist, "What's wrong?"

Paul avoided eye contact, and replied after a long pause, "Nothing. Nothing's wrong."

"You're a bad liar, Paul."

Paul sighed and nodded, "Alright. It's Jane."

John tried not to roll his eyes, but he did anyway as he asked, "Of course it is, what about her?"

Paul bit his plump lip. He didn't want to voice his feelings to the older man, he knew that John didn't like talking about the women in their lives when they were together. He kept his eyes low as he finally said, "I think Jane's suspicious of us... yunno."

John let go of Paul and stepped back. Paul was very consumed with his image, despite what the fans thought. John could give a shit what anyone thought about him, Paul however, was different. He was always the people pleaser, he enjoyed being advertised and gushed over. If people knew about their affair, it'd be over for him. John kept his piercing gaze on Paul, daring him to say more.

"I do love her John, you know that," he mumbled. He dared to look up at John. His reaction was to flinch under John's dangerous stare, but he didn't. He was going to stand by what he said, there was no taking back words when it came to John.

John was an eerie calm as he asked, "So what do you suggest we do?"

"I don't want to lose you-"

"You don't have to, Paul. You think she's onto us, and that bothers you. So what do you want to do about it?"

Paul looked back down and knew what he was about to say was going to sound vain and cowardly but he said it anyway, "We could.. We could be distant for a while? Just. Keep our distance."

John saw that coming. He just looked at Paul for a long time, enough to make Paul want to reconsider his suggestion. Paul didn't say anything, he kept his eyes on the ground between them. John leaned closer to Paul and drawled, "How long?"

He was inches from Paul again. Paul lifted his eyes but stopped at his lips, still not wanting to look into John's eyes, "What?"

"How long?"

Paul took a shaky breath. He wanted to kiss John and forget the entire conversation, but he couldn't back out now. He replied, "Couple months, I suppose. Just until she stops complaining."

John grinded his teeth, he wanted to take Paul's cuppa and pour it over his head. Months? Just because of Jane? John pretended to lean down and kiss Paul, but he moved over to Paul's ear instead and grumbled, "Do you think you could last that long, Paulie?"

Paul knew the answer to that. They both knew the answer. Paul closed his eyes, "No."

John smiled, satisfied with himself. He leaned back very slightly to catch Paul's eyes and said quietly, "Choose me."

"John I can't -"

"Choose me, Paul. It's not that bloody hard. What can she give you that I can't?"

John didn't expect Paul to actually think about that question, but he watched as Paul bit his lip. Paul didn't want to hurt John at all, but he was going to have to. John wouldn't let him go unless Paul made him believe that Jane was what he wanted with all his heart. He forced eye contact and said, "Children. Acceptance. She doesn't drink away all her bloody problems. She doesn't have a temper. She's gorgeous. She's everything, John."

John didn't believe Paul for a second. He was quite impressed at the way Paul had said that with a strong voice, but it wasn't said convincingly at all. He wasn't going to call him out, John was going to play along, "You're telling me that she's what you want? Just her, and you'll be happy?"

"Yes."

John had already stepped back a good three feet, but it felt like they were miles apart. He nodded and kept his poker face in place as he said, "She's everything but me, Macca. But if she's what you want, I won't stop you." They stood there staring at each other for a long while, until Paul walked off.

John blinked and looked back at his clock, 1:22 a.m. He grabbed another cigarette, and smiled as he lit it, Here's a bloody song for ya, Brian.

He tapped his pencil against his paper, thinking carefully about the words he wanted to write, knowing it would have to be a very clear message to Paul. He wrote the first few words:

Tell me that you've got everything you want...

John thought back about what Paul told him. About how Jane was everything. Fuckin bird has everything, huh? John laughed quietly, it was almost an evil laugh. He looked back at his paper and wrote:

Tell me that you've got everything you want
And your bird can sing.
But you don't get me, you don't get me.

John was smiling now. This song would be to Paul about his bird. His jealous green, precious bird. He enjoyed writing this song, and he finished it quickly. He went to bed excited to see Paul's face when he looked over the song the next day.