Chapter Eighty-Nine: A Day For Dreams

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July 2, 1964

Perhaps it was needless to say, but I slept fine that night. I woke up dazed, feeling the cotton sheets underneath my bare back.

When my eyes opened, I found John facing me, his eyes bright and staring. When he noticed I'd woken up, he blushed, but a grin rose on his lips.

"Good morning, beautiful." His voice sent ecstasy through my veins and I was unable to resist a smile.

"Good morning," I said.

"How'd you sleep? Have any dreams?" Before my dreams had turned wry, we'd made this a game, to see who had the more bizarre dreams. We woke up with just enough time to spare, so today was a day for dreams. He let his hands reach out for me, allowing them to trail their way along my skin gently, sending chills through my body despite the warm covers around us.

"I slept very good, thank you," I responded.

"And dreams?"

"Didn't have any, so I guess whatever you tell me is the winning dream for today." I smiled.

"Ah, well, I had a dream that it was you and me and we were on a super secret mission with fairies and lights and goblins. It was glorious."

I giggled. "Sound like it."

"I know I perhaps I sound like a broken record by now, but you look dreadfully gorgeous."

"You do sound like a broken record," I said. "But, thank you."

He pushed a strand of hair out of my face and leaned forward to place a tender kiss on my lips. "So beautiful," he murmured.

"Hey, now, don't get too carried away. We've got to get up in thirty minutes."

"Until then," John quipped, jumping up and pulling his boxer shorts back on. I sat up to pull something out of one of our bags, which turned out to be a t-shirt of John's. I laid back down and watched as John's went to find something on the TV. He landed on a movie channel, something I didn't recognize and I shrugged. He returned to the bed, climbing under the covers next to me, and pulling me close to him.

"If only we could stay here all day," he whispered.

"If only."

~~~

The time came around when it was finally time to go back to London.

We ate food we ordered up in our hotel room. Afterwards, John met the others down in the lobby of the hotel at exactly eight o'clock, and from there, they were rushed out to my car that I'd pulled around to the front of the building.

"G'morning, Donna," shouted Paul over the screaming around us.

I caught his eyes for a millisecond in the mirror before I had to return them to the road. "Good morning, Paul," I responded.

"And to you, John." I caught another glimpse of him for a minute. He was settled back in the seat, a smirk evident in his features.

"Good morning to you all," John said. "Except Paul." John turned around to smirk at him.

"G'morning," George and Ringo said from next to a narrow-eyed Paul.

They waited until the crowds died down to say anything else. Paul had ditched the irritated look and now just looked like he was about to burst in sheer anticipation.

"What're you about to say, Paul?" John asked finally, sighing as he signed away every bit of privacy we had.

"Have a nice night, you two?" he quipped loudly.

I looked at him in the mirror, making sure he caught the murderous look in my eyes. "Wouldn't you like to hear about it," I remarked.

"What gave it away?" asked John. "Our faces? Or were the walls too thin for you? I thought maybe I had been keeping her quiet enough, but that doesn't always work." I blushed.

Paul knew that he was getting on our nerves, pushing every possible button he could, and I knew that he was enjoying it. He leaned up in between the two seats. "How was it?" he hissed.

"Jesus Christ, Paul," John shouted, the atmosphere in the car changing.

I wasn't done. "What do you think we're gonna say?" I asked him. "What a silly question."

"Yeah, Paul," said John, playing along. "It was intense, passionate even."

"What's it like with Jane? You could probably have answered your own question if you'd have just thought hard enough."

Paul turned a deep shade of red as he slid back against the seat again. Ringo was looking down at his lap, and George had his head leaning back, staring up at the ceiling. They were both on the edge of laughing, I could tell.

I love you, stronger together than apart. John and Donna, better at shutting Paul up together than apart.

"You win," Paul mumbled.

"I think they won a long time ago," commented George.

A petty Paul shoved him in the arm. When he fell into Ringo, Ringo shoved Paul, and slowly there was a shoving match in my backseat.

"If you three don't stop it, I'm going to back this car into a tree," I snapped.

They all three frowned at me extensively, but stopped nonetheless. Next to me, John had his eyes trained on his feet, a prideful grin dancing on his lips.

"Next topic!" said George from the backseat.

"London!" added Ringo. "We're going back today. How's that?"

"Mhm," said Paul. "It's just grand."

"Oh, get over yourself, McCharmly. It's just one loss."

"How many times have you lost something, John?" asked George amusedly.

"Let me count..." he began, glancing sideways at me. "None."

"He's lying." I didn't meet anyone's eyes. I just smiled.

"What?"

"I'm not lying."

"You are too lying."

I pulled into the airport.

"Donna, tell us about John losing something." Paul now had an amused smile on his face.

"Donna will not do that," John said to Paul, a warning tone hiding beneath a pleasant one.

"Oh, but Donna will," piped George.

I pulled up to the front of the airport. "Time for you to get out of my car," I said to them.

"Aw, man, you really can't leave us hanging like that."

I smiled at them in the mirror wickedly, putting the car into park. "Yes, I believe I can. Out," I added when I got the signal from Brian.

John leaned over the console and kissed me on the cheek. "See you inside," he said to me with a dopey grin. "I looove you."

I looove you too."

The four of them clambered out. As soon as they were in the doors, I scurried off again.

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