That'll Be the Day

"Oh please, oh please, please Mary!" George asked-more like whined-through the telephone rather frantically. "Please let us stay with ye! I haven't seen ye in so long, please!"

"Wait, who's us?"

"I-I-I din't say us…" he stuttered.

The phone switched hands from George to someone else.

"Ello love, this is John. What little Geo means here is that we would like a place to shack up. We'll be in New York for a week. That's all he wanted," he clarified in his thick accent. He threw the phone back and George's breathing came back on.

"Too modest to ask, eh George?"

"I din't think you would agree. I mean, I know how mooch you hate John," he said.

"Don't worry about it, dear. When would you be here?"

"Two hours, in the least. But Paul has been stopping to take pictures," George sighed, and I could hear Paul complain.

"I haven't seen Paul in awhile. How is Macca?" I asked, curling the cord around my finger. No, I did not have a thing for him. He was a good friend a little before George came along. Even though I don't see Geo a lot, he's still my best friend.

"He's a'right," he grumbled. I laughed at his tone. "So we'll be there in about two hours."

"Okay Geo. I'll try to figure out the sleeping arrangements."

"I'll be in yer room, Mary; the other lads can share the guest room," he replied, a smile lilting his voice. The others yelled their objections. "Shaddup!"

"I'll let you go, babe. You still know where I live, right?" I asked, not sure if he wrote it down like I told him to.

"Yes! We'll be there soon, love." *Click*

Well, that was oddly unusual, I thought. I hung up the phone and wondered what I was going to do with four men in my house. Okay, three men and one boy.

I sat on the couch to reminisce about meeting Paul and George. My father is the Ambassador to England, so he took my mother and me to live there. I met Paul when I was young and he was still James. I lived next to him really, but instead of going to school like he did, I was home schooled. Soon enough though, George strolled into my life after Paul moved. George and I were inseparable. He was always there when I needed him, and I was there when he needed me.

It was always amazing how far those boys have come.

I met John before I had to leave with my mother, so I was about 14. John was a raunchy, foul-mouthed fool. He could never keep his mouth shut. He was arrogant, rude and weird. He would always push my buttons.

I haven't met Ringo yet. But from Geo, he's a great guy. If he's staying in my house, he better be.

I looked over to my bedroom. My room was clean enough. The guest bedroom, however, had boxes in it. I got off the couch to walk into the room to attack the boxes. I folded them up and stacked them in the closet. I changed the sheets on the bed and vacuumed the floor. I also washed the bathroom down.

It was exactly two hours when I heard a harried knock on the door. I rushed to open it as George, John, Paul and Ringo rushed in, slamming the door behind them and tripping on a fallen George. I locked the door after them to make sure no crazed fans could open it and run in. Short of knocking the door in, the boys were safe from fan girls.

"Hello boys."

"Mary!" George exclaimed, pushing everyone off him to give me a bear hug. For one so skinny, I was surprised he had that much strength.

"Have they been starving you, Geo? You're pinched thin."

"Yes, Mary, we cahn't afford to feed him," John said, brushing himself off.

"I swear to God, if you start acting that way-"

"What are ye gonna do, love? Spank me?" He raised his eyebrows suggestively, causing me to cringe.

"Behave, Lennon," Paul said, stepping up to rest his arm around my shoulders. "How are ye Mary?"

"Fine before he walked in," I growled, glaring at John. He made a face at me where his tongue was pushing his lip out and crossed his eyes. I went to hit him but he moved.

"Lovely flat, Mary," he said sarcastically. Macca was trying to hide him from me. I swear I was going to kill him by the end of the night.

"Ello Mary. I've heard mooch about ye," Ringo greeted.

"Hello Ringo. I've seen a lot of you on the telly. You're a great drummer," I said, smiling at the shortest Beatle. God, he was adorable.

"Thanks! It's hard because I'm left-handed and I'm playing a right-handed set. But I'm grateful for yer compliment."

"Why don't you get a left set then?" I asked.

"John's a cheap bastard." That explained it all. I showed them into the living room and let them relax.

"There's a pool outside!" Paul exclaimed, looking out the window. "When did you get that?"

"A few years ago. You can go swimming later if you feel like," I offered.

"As long as you join me, love," he said, winking. George looked pissed.

"We can all go swimming." I sat next to Geo and patted his knee.

"Maaaaary, I'm huuuungry," John whined suddenly, running into the kitchen and throwing the fridge open. "What ye got in 'ere, eh?"

"Get out of my fridge, Lennon!" I yelled, trying to get up but George held me down.

"Ye cahn't kill him! He's the lead singer and our other guitarist! Ye cahn't kill him!"

"Well, I advise you to find another guitarist because this one will be sleeping with the fishes tonight!" I roared, releasing myself from George's grip and rushing at John. Paul got in my way and picked me up to lay me on the floor. He laid himself on me to keep me down.

"Now, love, that was rather unladylike of you. Rushing at a man with no scruples. How quickly you lose it, Mary," he tsked.

"Well, get off 'er Paul. I want 'er to spank me," John chirped, smiling devilishly. I glared at those dark eyes that laughed at me so. Paul picked me up and held on.

"Come on, love, let's go swimming."


You would probably think me mad to be surrounded by some good looking boys and not ogle. So I must be mad. They had their classic "short-shorts" swimming trunks on and I had a two piece bathing suit where my navel was covered. John and George jumped into the pool already while Paul was next to me and Ringo tanned in one of the long lounge chairs.

"So Mary, how 'ave you been lately?" he asked, putting his feet up in my lap. "I see you grew yer hair out."

"Yeah well, I am twenty-two now. I should be into the hip and fab things. Besides, it's not so bad," I answered. I always wore my hair short, but recently, my long wavy brown hair was braided, hanging over one of my shoulders.

"It's real gear, Mary," Ringo said, slipping his sunglasses down his nose to wink at me. I shook my head with a smile.

"It is," Paul agreed, "And it's pro'ly jus as soft," he said, taking a few loose strands and twirling it around his fingers. He smiled at me gently, keeping my hair in his fingers. "Ye should put a few ribbons innit."

"Oh please Paul, you're charm doesn't work on me," I exasperated, pulling my hair away from him. He pouted.

"Ah well, ye cahn't win 'em all." I rolled my eyes, sweeping his feet from my lap. I got up to walk over to Ringo.

"God, he's a bother."

"Who? Paul? Ah, he jus likes ye is all. I think George does too."

"George? What makes you say that?" I asked, curious to his answer.

"When Paul was flirtin with ye, he looked down righ' angry," and he yelled to George, "Jea'ousy don't become ye, George!"

George flipped him off.

"See? I think he's got a thing fer ye."

George pulled himself out of the water using the edge of the pool and walked over to us, spraying me with water when he shook his head.

"Coming in Mary?" he asked, pulling me to my feet, "Or do I have to drag ye?"

"Yeah, Maaaaaary," John emphasized my name, "Are ye comin in or not?" He also pulled himself out of the pool and walked over. If he touches me, he'll be lacking an arm. Instead of John or George tugging me into the water, it had to be Paul that pulled me into his arms and jumped into the water. I came up sputtering.

"I hate you, Macca!" I exclaimed. He smiled innocently and snatched me into his arms, holding me in the water.

"No you don't. You love me, and are too afraid to admit it," Paul grinned, winking behind me to the three boys. I heard a splash soon after.

I felt someone come up behind me, and I was afraid to know who. I quickly turned my head to see John grinning down at me. He took me from Paul and tossed me into the deep end. George then jumped in and grabbed hold of me, to bring me over to the low end even though I could do it by myself. I figured he was holding me back from dunking John under and holding him there until he stopped moving. Yeah, that's it.

George sat down on the bottom stair and pulled me into his lap. "Like I said, love, ye cahn't kill him. Not yet."

I grunted in frustration as John just cheekily grinned at me. I pulled the hair tie from my braid and let it unwind. It fell a little lower than my shoulders. I raked my fingers through it and turned to George.

"So, what would you like for supper tonight?" George had the biggest appetite of the four, so asking him seemed logical. He furrowed his brows in thought, and I thought it was the cutest thing.

"Um…spaghetti would be real gear, Mary, but I don't want ye to cook for us. Yer doing a lot for us now a'ready," he said, hugging me closer to him.

"It's only a little more than what I would usually make. It isn't a big deal," I waved him off, getting off his lap to dunk my hair under the water.

Ringo finally got up, standing at the side of the pool to look down at the clear blue water.

"Comin' in then, Richie?" Paul called as he swam over to me. He jumped on my back and I tried to hold him up. I was succeeding as well.

"God you got heavy, Paul." I grunted as Ringo finally jumped in.

"Then you got stronger, love." I fell back to get him off and he let go.

"Well, Paul, ye ahn't as heavy as John!" George shouted laughing.

"Hey! I am not fat!" John shouted back, absolutely pissed.

I started laughing hysterically. Fat? Really?

"Shaddup, Mary! I can still thump ye if I 'ave to!" he threatened. I still laughed. He started getting closer to me-steaming-before I stopped him.

"Besides Ringo, you have one of the better bodies between the four of you! Who called you fat?" I asked, still snickering at the fat comment.

He stopped short, completely thrown off. "Ye-ye don't think me fat? Really?"

"I don't think you're fat, John. You've got meat on your bones; something I wish George had…" I said, grinning at George behind me.

"So ye sayin' John's better lookin' than me?" he asked, hurt.

"George, I didn't mean that," I laughed, "I just mean you're so thin I'm afraid you'll get sick or something. But since you can eat a whale, I really don't have much to fear." I went over to hug him, to try anything to get the unexpected hurt from his eyes. "Besides, you are here all week. I'll fatten you up." I kissed his cheek and walked out of the pool. "Oh John, you still didn't say who called you fat…"

He looked at me for a bit before shaking his head and answering, "Some reporter wench. She called me the fat Beatle."

"Well, John, in my considered opinion," I laughed again, "I don't think you're fat at all."