In Your Atmosphere (Paul McCartney/Beatles Fanfiction)

Chapter 11 - I Wanna Be Your Man

"Whoops," Marisol said. "The door just got away from me."

Ringo started to smile but stopped himself halfway. "All right?"

Marisol ran her fingers through her hair and told herself to pull it together. "Yeah, I'm just looking for Angela. What are you doing out here?"

"Can't sleep. Trying to talk this bloke into taking me to a pub."

"Oh. Good luck then." She looked up and down the hall. "Which way is Neil's room again?"

He pointed. "End of the hall, last door on the right, and Bob's your uncle."

"Right...have a good night."

"You know your jumper is all backy wacky?"

Marisol looked down at herself as she walked away. "Haha. So it is." She quickened her steps and rapped on the door at the end of the hall.

"Are you bevvied?" Angela said at the sight of her.

Marisol pushed past her into the bathroom. "Unfortunately not yet."

"You look like you've been in a cyclone."

"That's a name for it."

"Your jumper is on backward."

Marisol sighed. "I know. Ringo already said."

"Ringo? And I thought it had to do with that slice of Paul McCartney you left here with!"

The bathroom door closed on Angela's amused face.

Marisol pulled her sweater over her head and caught her reflection in the mirror as she turned it right side out. She looked like a wild woman, hair in a disheveled cloud around her face and mascara smudges under her eyes.

She combed her fingers through her hair and dabbed at the traces of mascara with a tissue before stepping into the bedroom.

Neil was stretched across one of the twin beds sorting a handful of playing cards. Angela sat across from him studying her own cards. The radio played softly and Marisol felt a pang of envy for their quiet, no-drama evening.

"Where's Paul?" Neil asked.

"My guess is sitting on the toilet playing guitar."

Angela laughed.

"The acoustics are better."

"Right. What's your poison?" Neil nodded at the sideboard.

Marisol glanced at the half-filled bottles. "Mmm. Warm Scotch and Coke. Must be my lucky day." But needs must. She poured herself a finger of Scotch and knocked it back, shuddering. She examined the bottle and brought it back with her to the bed. When she was settled, she swigged from the bottle until tears came to her eyes. Then she rather indelicately wiped her mouth with her sleeve and shuddered again. "Holy balls," she whispered.

When she looked up, Neil and Angela were both frowning at her.

"What?" she asked, her voice laced with irritation.

Angela put down her cards. "You all right?"

"Yes, geez." She waved the bottle in Angela's direction. "I just need a little drink." She took another swig, the warmth coating her throat and settling in her shoulders and back, starting to relax her. "Mmm." She examined the label again. "Good stuff, this whisky with no e. Made in Scotland you know." She swirled the liquid in the bottle and sniffed. "Woodsy with a hint of spice."

She waited for the warm and fuzzy feeling to take over, watching Neil and Angela exchanging glances while they pretended to play cards.

"What're you playing?" she asked.