All In Good Time - A Time Travel Beatles Fanfiction

Track 3 - She's Not There

Someone was breathing in Lainey's face, and her head thrummed with a dull ache. She cracked open an eye to see Paul McCartney staring at her from eight inches away. She squeezed her eyes closed. "No," she whispered. "You're so not real."

She felt him cup the back of her head, pressing none too gently on the tender spot at the base of her skull.

"Ow! Quit that!"

"Swelling's gone down." He brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes before lowering his hand. "I would've given you a frozen steak to help with the swelling but we're fresh out."

"Thank goodness for that." She squinted her eyes at him. "So it wasn't a dream."

"What wasn't a dream?" he said evenly.

"You. George. John Freaking Lennon. Oh. And Ringo. Can't forget Ringo."

"Hmm. So, you ready to talk?" He was turned toward her, one arm under his head. His hair looked mussed from sleeping. She wondered if it felt as soft as it looked. Holy hell. She had just woken up beside Paul McCartney, with his hair all sleep-ruffled.

She curled her hands into fists and focused on a spot on the wall just over his shoulder instead of getting lost in his dreamboat eyes. "As long as it doesn't make my head hurt worse."

"We'll start with an easy one. How do you know so much about us? We've done nothing in America, and hardly anyone in London knows who we are."

His gaze flitted over her face, lingering on each of her features as if he was thinking of drawing her later from memory. She licked her lips and noticed his gaze fall to her mouth.

"Can I trust you?" she asked.

He nodded. "Course you can. I'm a trustworthy bloke."

"But I can hardly believe this myself. I don't know how I can expect anyone else to."

He pursed his lips, considering. "Let's start from the beginning. Why were you outside EMI, and how do you know who the Beatles are?"

"Everyone on earth knows who you are in 2012."

He arched a brow. "We're still sticking with that story, are we?"

She groaned. "Paul. Have you ever had anything happen to you that was...let's say...supernatural?"

Paul studied her face for a beat without speaking. "I'm going to need a ciggy for this." He rolled to a sitting position and fumbled in the drawer of the night table. "You smoke?" he asked over his shoulder.

"God no."

"Mind if I do?"

"It's your funeral."

Paul barked out a laugh. "Clever."

"It's an old joke." She watched him tap out a cigarette and light it. "You don't even know smoking is bad for you yet, do you?"

"Don't be soft. Smoking isn't bad for you. It relaxes you. Calms the nerves." He settled back onto the pillow, blowing out a breath of smoke. "You asked if I've ever had anything supernatural happen to me?"

She nodded.

He examined the tip of his cigarette for a moment before answering. "I lost my mum when I was a kid, and I've had dreams, visions...whatever you call 'em, where I could swear she was with me. So yeah, I suppose I have."

"Maybe this is sort of like that. I know it's connected to George. His picture is in this ring." Lainey waved her hand in front of his face.

"Let me see that." The cigarette dangled from his lips as he reached for her hand.