Jump: A Beatles Fan-Fiction

Chapter 4: December 5th, 1963, 6:00PM || London, England

After the little jam session, the band and I sat around for a while and talked. When it got later, we ate a "gourmet" dinner consisting of cornflakes and beer. Of course, I skipped out on the alcohol and made the excuse that I didn't want to lose my memory and my competence. As we ate, the band told me stories about things they had done, tours, and all sorts of other experiences they'd had.

"...so then Paul lit it on fire and tacked it to the wall!" John laughed.

"Hey! You dared me to do it!" Paul said defensively

"Was the condom used or...?" Ringo asked.

"Of course it wasn't used that's bloody disgusting!" Paul roared.

The rest of the band and myself laughed as Paul scowled. I already knew of the famous condom fire that Paul had started in Germany, but it much funnier when The Beatles told it.

"Alright guys, we'd better get going if we want to be at the party on time," George said.

"Yeah let's go!" said John.

A party? I thought. With The Beatles? "Um, what party?" I asked.

"Oh Penny, I forgot to tell you! You can come with us if you'd like! There's a party we're going to, a friend of ours is hosting it!" Paul exclaimed.

"That would be fun, but can I wear this?" I asked, pointing to my tattered clothing.

"Ooh that could be a problem dearie," John stated.

"It's alright, I can just stay here, I don't need to cause you any trouble," I said.

"No, no, Penny! You're loads of fun, come with us!" Ringo begged.

"Hang on, I think I have something that belonged to an ex-girlfriend of mine, just a minute," Paul said. He walked back into the bedroom. A few seconds later he came out with a late 50s style dress, and it was white with black polka dots. There was also a black band around the midsection.

It was gorgeous, but I couldn't wear it. I didn't look nice in dresses. I didn't look nice in anything.

"Oh, Paul, er-- it's great, but, I don't think that I should wear it. I don't think it'd look very nice on me,"

"Well someone has to wear it!" Paul demanded.

"I'm not going to wear it!" Ringo jumped and hid behind George.

"C'mon Penny, maybe the model thing wasn't such a bad idea!" George insisted.

Paul shoved the dress into my arms, spun me around, and pushed me into the bathroom. "Put it on, we're leaving in five minutes," And with that, he slammed the bathroom door shut.

I stared at the door for a couple of seconds. Slowly, I shed my street clothes, and donned the dress. I used a comb I found in the bathroom to untangle my hair a little bit, and then put my jean jacket on. There was no way that I was going to leave my Jump Reader anywhere, I wanted it on my person at all times.

I took the Reader out of its pocket and looked at it. The digital screen now read, "Next jump in 41 hours". The timer was counting down to my next teleport/time travel. Hopefully it would actually work. Not that being stuck with The Beatles was bad, but I didn't want to screw up time or anything.

I put the Reader back into my jacket pocket, and walked out of the bathroom with my pants folded nicely. I was still wearing my high tops (which happened to be red), because Paul hadn't given me any other shoes to wear, and I didn't intend to go anywhere bare foot.

"See, it's not so bad is it? You look wonderful Penny!" Paul beamed. I turned a deep shade of red, as I set my pants down on a chair.

George walked up to me and put his hand on my forearm, "You look beautiful Penny," he said in a low voice, while the others were talking and combing their hair. I blushed and turned an even deeper shade of red, trying my absolute best not to be smitten.

"We're going to a party, party!" John stuttered out of excitement.

"Yes we're going to a party, party," I smiled under my breath. I listened to "Birthday" every year when it was my actual birthday, I loved that song.

"Calm yourself, John, let's go," Paul ushered everyone into the hall, and out the into the back alley, where a cab was waiting for us. Once again, I was squeezed into the cab, this time between John and Ringo, who kept poking and prodding at me.

"Such a strange jacket, is it an American thing?" Ringo asked, pulling on the cuff.

"Of course it's American, they have all sorts of strange things over there!" John teased.

"Would you two let the poor girl alone?" Paul sighed.

"Okay, fine," John said, and immediately started to poke George's knee.

"Hey, bug off!" George swatted his hand away.

Thankfully, that was about the time that the cab stopped. We all stepped out, and went into the building. This time, since it was dark out, there wasn't a mob of people we had to push through.

We took a set of stairs down to a basement that was filled with people wearing nice clothes, talking, and dancing.

I was at a party. But not with just anyone. I was at a party with The Beatles.