IF NOT FOR YOU {George Harrison}

Chapter 5

It'd been several days since I'd met George, a very drunk John, and a flirty Paul.

I hadn't received a visit from George about the Lemon Pie recipe, so I'd decided, on my day off, to make a day of going to George and into town.

Tonight was the night I was moving in with Astrid, so I'd decided to grab some necessities. That included a first aid kit, lemon tea, a box of matches, a notepad and pencils, and a pair of scissors. All were things Astrid had informed me that she didn't have, and I had decided to take the liberty to collect them. I needed some deodorant as well, in any case (A/N: I'm sorry but I had to add the BEOdorant). I stopped by the grocers, bought everything on my list, plus a chocolate muffin to take to George, and headed to the nasty flat where the boys were staying.

When I got there, I straightened my mint green sweater, squeezed my cheeks to give them a little color, and knocked.

I heard a crash from inside and someone yell, "PAUL, YE BLOODY WEASEL, YE KNOCKED OFF LUCINDA!"

I heard loud footsteps and then someone opened the door.

It was John Lennon. He had his head turned, and he started yelling about "Lucinda" again.

"SHE'S THE BEST HOUSEPLANT I'VE EVER HAD AND YE KILLED HER!"

"SHE'S NOT EVEN YOURS! SHE'S GEORGE'S!" I recognized Paul's annoyed shout.

John sighed, finally turning to me. His voice sounded raspy, like he was losing it, and I wondered if he had a cold. He sucked in a breath and he looked shocked, saying, "Jesus, ye look a hell ton like me mother."

I frowned. "That's not exactly the best compliment a girl can receive."

He looked at me with awe and muttered, "Damn, s'like she followed me from the tomb."

"Will ye scootch so I can chat with George?"

He didn't move, ignoring me. "Wha' was yer name again? I 'ave a vague memory of ye tucking me into bed but that could jus be the whiskey talkin'."

There was something about this idiot that made my blood boil. But for some reason, I liked him.

"Names Dash, I'm not yer bloody mother, and if ye don't move yer sorry arse I'm going te kick it."

He grinned at me. "I like you."

I tried to push past him, but he grabbed me around the waist.

"Sorry, Georgie's in the shower. You 'ave me to keep ye company." He guided me over to a bench that looked to be falling apart. We both sat down, and he placed his arm behind my shoulders on the back of the bench. He gave me a dangerously flirty look.

"So, yer the girl who made friends with our Stuie?"

Hells bells, he's a real flirt.

"I am. Ye'd think he'd of tried to introduce me to the lot of ye."

"He tries to avoid bringing girls around us. Pete nicked his first girlfriend and their relationship hasn't ever been the same. Actually, it's rather strange tha' he brings Astrid 'round. I like 'er, tho."

"Why wouldn't he of introduced me, then? I'm not his girl, and I never will be."

John smirked, scratching this nose with the hand that was behind me, then let it fall on my shoulder.

"He knows I've a reputation of loving too many lasses. And Paul, he's a gentleman but lordy he'll lay ye quick as ye let yer guard down."

I shrugged John's arm off my shoulder. He took this as a sign, it appeared, as he respectfully moved his arm away from me. You surprise me, John Lennon, I thought. Perhaps there's a prince in your frog form yet.

"So what's goin on wit yer voice? Di'n' sound like that when ye were tellin me about yer mental health the other night."

He smirked.

"Just got a bi' of a frog in me throat. Only the frog has sandpaper and does a lot of scrubbing."

I laughed, and John then yawned, stretching out his arms and arching his back. I don't know what possessed me, but some voice said the best way to see his true interior would be to tickle him. I need to stop listening to the voices in my head. I quickly started tickling his armpit, and he screamed, jerking away.

This was a bad move.

The bench, which had seemed sturdy enough, cracked. We both fell, and I landed on top of John. I caught myself with my knees on either side of his waist, and he instinctively wrapped his arms around my back in a protective manner. When I realized our interesting position, I started laughing. John winked, starting to laugh just as hard and said, "Well, if ye wanted to lay me li' this, ye could've just asked. They don't call ye Dash fer nothing."

Still laughing, I looked around to make sure we weren't being watched. Unfortunately, we were. By none other, then George Harrison. I didn't know how long he'd been standing there, but I knew it must look like John and I were cavorting in broad daylight. I immediately jumped off of John, who continued to chuckle.

"George, I-"

He cut me off. To my surprise, George wasn't glaring at me: he was glaring at John.

"What are ye doing, Lennon?"

His voice was full of disbelief. John, who'd finally seen George and understood the situation, said gently, "Nothing, Geo, I swear-"

"Save it. It doesn' matter."

He glanced at me, and the look in his eyes made me feel ashamed. He turned, and went back into the flat.

John looked sorrowfully at me, and I returned the look. I took the muffin for George and put it in John's hand, whispering, "Give this to him, if he'll accept it."

John nodded, and I turned to go back to my aunt and uncles, where I would pack up my belongings and move in with Astrid.

"I'll talk to him, love. He's like a little brother, I'm sure he'll listen."

For whatever reason, I didn't believe him.

A/N: howdy howdy! I really like this chapter, especially John. For some reason he's comedy gold in my writing. I don't think that's a bad thing though.
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