Illegal Love - McLennon and Starrison

Drive My Car

"Ahem, TAXIIIIIIII!" John screamed. The car screeched to a stop, and they huuried to open the doors. The reporter stayed glued to the ground as the taxi was covered in fans clawing at the windows. "Step on it, dipshit!" The car sped away, leaving people lying in the street.

"That was either a very brave thing to do, or a very stupid thing to do." The cabbie shook his head in disbelief.

"I'll go with both, thank you very much." Paul curled up against John with a sigh. "You don't have a problem with a couple of queers?"

"It's easier when you can relate to them. Me boyfriend is working two jobs each day to support us."

"No shit? Life is funny that way. Hard times, huh?" John sat up, actually interested.

"Yeah, a bit. But hey, we had wine on the night it became sort of legal. Win-win." George chuckled with the cabbie. "I'm guessing you two are queer?"

"Is it that obvious?" Paul smiled.

"Uh, yeah? You've been giving each other bedroom eyes for years in interviews."

"We were not! Right, Paul? Paul?" He just giggled in response. "You asshole!"

"Where to?" the cabbie finally asked.

"Somewhere else. Far, far away from here." Ringo looked like he was about to cry as he buried his face into George's chest.

"It's okay, love. You were very brave out there, I'm proud of you."

"So Mr. Lennon, are you going to announce your relationship as well?"

John shot a nervous glance at Paul. "Not right now, I think they've had enough surprises today. They'll figure it out. Oh right, where we're going. Where is the nearest hotel?"

"About a block from here. You know, I really hope that what you did back there might make a difference." The cabbie glanced back at them in the rearview mirror. "It's time some changes should be made. Here's your stop."

The Beatles got out of the car, only for Paul to go to the driver's side. "How much do we owe you?" he asked.

"Nothing, it's fine. You boys keep yourselves out of trouble." Before he could protest, the taxi was gone.

"You okay, Paulie?" John rested his chin on his head.

"I'm just fine. Wait, we do have money to rent a room, right? Don't roll your eyes at me!" They approached the front desk, only to get a strange look from the receptionist. "What's wrong, ma'am?"

She shook her head. "Oh, nothing. I'm just a bit surprised by what you said." She started searching for a room key.

"Wait, you know already?" Ringo had a panicked expression. "How?"

"It's all over the telly and the radio, Mr. Starr. News travels fast." She handed him the key. "I assume a room with just two beds would be fine?"

"Well, I -"

"Hell yeah! Thanks so much!" John ran down the hallway as the others struggled to keep up. The woman just smiled. "Dibs on sharing with Macca!"

"We wouldn't have it any other way. Who's ready for a good night's sleep?" Ringo slid into the second bed with a smile.

"I'm down for that." George curled up against him with a yawn.

"Me too."

"Me three. Come here, me lovely Princess Paulie." John hugged him from behind, giggling softly. "I love you." Paul was already asleep.

---

"Wha?" Ringo muttered groggily. "What was that?"

John sat up quickly, listening carefully. "Geo, I think someone's knocking on our door!" George just groaned, pulling a pillow over his head. "That is not good! We are so fucked!" Paul's eyes fluttered open as he glanced around in confusion. "Paulie, they've found us."