He's So Fine [Beatles / George Harrison FanFiction]

Chapter Twenty-Eight: 23rd August 1964

At the end of each song, George would glance around, check she was still there, where he'd left her, and then give her a quick smile or a wink or a nod. It filled her with a gooey warmness every time he did it. It was an alien feeling to Della. No one had had that effect on her before. No boy. No boyfriend...

He wasn't her boyfriend. Not officially, anyway. She was just trying the label out in her mind. Seeing how it fit. See how she liked it. See how she liked it on him.

They'd made it to the gig on time - with time to spare, really - arriving after the others, but still a good couple of hours before the show. After the debacle that was yesterday, today had gone surprisingly smoothly. The plane was on time. The journey to the Hollywood Bowl had been easy, with light traffic and minimal fuss. The others had welcomed Della and George back into their midsts like they'd been gone for days rather than just a night, and laughed merrily at Della's stories of getting stuck in the audience, missing the car outside the stadium and the crazy Beatle fans who rescued her. That story changed a little bit every time she told it.

George told it with her, leaning a hand on the back of her chair, nearly with his arm around her. He added his version; the radio people in the airport, Derek ringing round the whole of England and dragging everyone out of bed, the amount of scotch he consumed on his own at the hotel.

But there was one part they both omitted.

'I was out cold by the time she got there,' George said, with sniggers from the others.

'You're a bloody lightweight these days,' John contributed and George smiled as his eyes met Della's.

'Must be,' he said, holding her gaze. 'She woke me and I thought I was hallucinating.'

'Three glasses of hard liqueur and you pass out,' John continued. 'For shame, George Harrison.'

'It was a bit more than three,' George said.

'Don't do that again, Del,' Paul said, at Della's side, finally forcing her to look away from George. 'We were all worried about you, love.'

'Thanks, Paul but... I was fine.' She shrugged and Paul reached to pat the back of her hand. With unexpected abruptness, George turned away.