In Your Atmosphere (Paul McCartney/Beatles Fanfiction)

Chapter 32 - All Together Now

Marisol's flight arrived on time in Key West but her luggage was nowhere to be found. She waited by the baggage carousel for twenty minutes before finding an airline agent and filling out the lost luggage form, giving her grandfather's Key West address. With that accomplished, she waited behind a fence on the tarmac for Paul's chartered plane to land.

Paul had called from Canada earlier that morning. Hurricane Dora was churning up the East Coast, straight for their intended destination of Jacksonville. Key West was suggested as an alternate place to hunker down for the three days between concerts.

"That's perfect!" Marisol couldn't believe their luck. "We can stay at my Papa's place. All four of you, and Neil and Mal! And Brian if he wants to."

"Eppy never stays with us anymore. Not since the time in New York when he was photographed with a male escort and blackmailed and Capitol Records had to bail him out."

"All righty then. That was so much more information than I needed to know about Brian."

Brian himself called her thirty minutes later to get more information so that he could arrange for a twenty-four-hour guard by the front gate of the Hemingway home in Key West. With any luck, it would take the media and fans some time to figure out where the Beatles were hiding out until their show in Jacksonville.

As it was, no fans were waiting when their plane touched down in Key West. Only Marisol watched the Beatles descend the airstrips and race for two limousines. A bus waited nearby for the support bands and the rest of the entourage who were headed to a motel on the beach.

Over the noise of the idling engines, Marisol yelled for Paul, then Neil. Paul spotted her just before he was shoved into a limousine. He shouted at Neil and pointed to where Marisol was standing behind a fence next to a police officer.

Neil pulled her across the tarmac to the limousine behind Paul's. "Where are your bags?" he shouted.

"Your guess is as good as mine!"

Neil opened the door to the second limousine for Marisol and ran ahead to climb in next to the Beatles' driver.

"'Ello, pretty bird." Derek Taylor, the Beatles' new publicist, was sitting across from her and grinning in a slightly inebriated way.

"Hello." Marisol smiled back at him. "Good flight?"

"Bumpy as shite."

Both limousines came to a sudden stop. Marisol's door was thrown open, and Paul was outside. He pulled her to her feet. "You're coming with me, Beauty."

When they were in his limousine, Paul pulled her onto his lap. "Nice to see you," he said to her cleavage. "It's been a day. Mind if I bury my face in you?"

"No sex in the limo, you animals," John Lennon growled.

"Where to, dear?" Neil called from the front seat.

Marisol gave him directions and relaxed in Paul's arms. She was being driven to her Papa's house in a luxury limousine on Paul's lap, surrounded by tired but witty Beatles. There were worse ways to end a grueling day of travel.

While Mal and Neil unloaded luggage, Marisol dashed inside the mansion to make sure the guest rooms were ready and to chat with the faithful caretakers, Mr. and Mrs. Sosa. Outside again, a trail of discarded clothing led her to the sounds of splashing and laughter. All four Beatles had stripped down to their briefs and were enjoying the enormous swimming pool. Marisol flipped on the pool lights with a big grin.

Papa had installed underwater bulbs for night swimming, and each bulb was so bright the pool seemed like it must be visible from Mars.

A loud cheer went up. With the lights on it looked like the Beatles were swimming around in a sea of green fire.