Come Together

11: Room Service

George and Ringo were already at the rocks when John and Brian arrived back at the rendezvous point. John pointed at the two with a slight smile as he and his manager strolled up quietly.

George and Ringo sat upon the smooth top of the rock, backs to the other two men. Their heads were tilted towards each other's softly and slightly. Their hands rested near each other's.

"Thank God half of you crazy band 's got a lick o' sense..." Brian muttered as he rolled his eyes. "They're not snoggin' each other in public."

John reared back in mock outrage. "Paul an' I are sensible fellows!" he cried, wiggling his eyebrows wildly, " we mos' certainly do not snog in public!"

Brian smirked. "If looks could kill..." he replied, "er, rather, undress."

John blushed wildly and was just about to retort back when footsteps crunched on the ice behind them. "Hello, lads!" Paul called out cheerfully as he stepped in front of the two. "'Ave a nice walk then, ay?"

"Speak o' the devil..." Brian muttered.

"C'mon, then," John said as he sauntered towards the base of the rocks, "les' get those two lovebirds then, mm?"

"Oy! Ringo!!" Paul shouted loudly, cupping his hands around his mouth and grinning. "George! Get outta the clouds an' into Central Park!"

He cackled madly and smirked as the two men atop the rock jumped with a start. Ringo leapt to his feet and turned towards Paul, glaring down at him, blue eyes crinkled. He grabbed George's arm and jerked the guitarist upright.

"An' what was tha' about??" he hissed as he clambered deftly down the rock. He strode over to Paul, who could only laugh as he watched George struggling down.

"Riiiingo!" the skinny man bleated, clinging to the rock, slender fingers straining, "I'm stuck!"

"Christ!" John laughed and grabbed George around the waist, picking him up and depositing him on flat ground in one fell swoop. "You were three feet off the groun', George!"

"Oh." The guitarist frowned. "Did you jus' pick me up??"

"I s'pose so," John said with a wink, turning back towards the group. Ringo rolled his eyes. "Alrigh' then..." he sighed, turning to Brian. "So, whas' next?"

"Well." Their manager straightened, heaving an impressive sigh before continuing. "The res' o' the day 's technically free, but I suggest you use a' least some o' it to practice for the Ed Sullivan Show tomorrow."

Paul squeaked and clapped his hands over his mouth immediately. "Thas' tomorrow?" he said weakly from behind his hands.

Brian frowned at the bassist. "Yes. You would've known tha' maybe if you'd've listened to me when I told you..."

Paul's eyes slanted downwards as he shifted into a subdued silence. "Oh..." he replied softly.

John patted Paul on the back with a sneer. "S' all righ', Paulie..." he muttered with a grin.

"An' so," Brian went on, "we're headed back to the 'otel, where you'll be free o' screaming fans, an' free to practice. Maybe even write some more songs," he added, looking at John and Paul, "we 'ave to put out a new album soon, after all."

"All righ'!" George exclaimed with a signature toothy grin, "Room party! Les' jam an' 'ave fun! I'll call room service!"

He crowed happily and raced off towards the gated exit.