Behind That Locked Door (A Beatles/George Harrison Fanfiction)

Moonbeam

"Do you really have to go out with the other lads tonight? I was thinking it could just be us." Pattie says, pulling at the collar of my shirt, tugging at it lightly in a notion to pull it off. I sigh. I would enjoy a night at home just as much as she does.

"Yes, love," I take her hand and bring it to my lips, kissing it lightly, "I'll be back tomorrow, though, alright? Put on your best dress and we'll go out."

Pattie groans and kisses my neck, sighing into it.

"Alright." She says as I grab my coat and car keys, opening the door and stepping down the steps as I wrap my hand around the cold car handle.

The engine takes a bit to start up as I pull the car out of the driveway. I can't even remember what Paul said he wanted to get us together for. Song maybe? For some reason I find it unlikely he would want me involved in that, though. 10 miles and almost a gallon later I arrive at Paul's house, a ciggie placed in between my teeth, needing to be put out. Loudly I shut my car door to let him and Jane know I'm here.

I knock quietly on the door with no response. I hear yelling inside, chanting, and music. I wonder why Paul would be having a party? Him and Jane just got engaged, maybe he invited me over for an early-wedding sort of deal.

I let myself in and am immediately greeted by 30 hippies. Half of them clearly have been smoking something. A young girl, blonde hair and blue eyes, throws herself on me.

"George! Let's go in the backroom and-" I push her off before she can finish. I used to love having a couple girls all over me but it's just gotten to be too much.

Some slap me on the back, clearly gone, and a couple of others play banjos or guitars. I breathe in the smell of weed as I ask a small, petite brown-eyed girl if she's seen Paul. She shakes her head as I see Jane in the kitchen, steamed. I rush over to her.

"Have you seen Paul?" I ask. Now that I'm closer, her features are more evident. Her eyes are red, a darker version of her hair, and her fists are balled up to the point that she'll draw blood. I put my arm on her shoulder and gently try to calm her down.

"He hasn't been the same since I got back. He and John invited all these strange people and he's picked up LSD." Even over the loudness of the atmosphere, I hear her choke on her words. My lips meet her forehead. I feel guilty for doing the drug as well.

"Well I better talk some sense into 'im, huh?" I say with a warm smile. The ends of her lips curl up the tiniest.

"Upstairs." She says quietly. I run my hand through her red hair and kiss the top of her head again, walking up the wooden staircase and finding another gaggle of hippies upstairs. It reeks up here, too.

I knock on Paul's door and hear unpleasant noises inside. I ball up my fists and feel the heat in my chest. He's sleeping with another girl with Jane only downstairs? I wonder if she knows. She didn't say anything about it.

"Paul!" I yell through the door, balled up fist pounding on the wood. The moaning stops.

"Come in!" He yells. I open the door. A beautiful blonde, half naked, puts back on her clothes. For a minute I excuse Paul for sleeping with her and then I remember Jane crying downstairs.

"What are you doing? You've got Jane's eyes watering!" I yell as the now clothed girl steps out of the room. Another girl enters and jumps on top of Paul but he shoos her off.

"I just wanted to have fun, alright? Besides, we're not married. And did you see that bird?!" He whistles. The girl enters again.

"No, no, go away. That's not your cue." He says, the girl leaving again with puppy dog eyes. I stare at him blankly.

"Well if you want to go around sleeping with every pretty bird with your steady downstairs then go ahead." I say, crossing my arms as Paul pushes the covers off of him, grabbing underwear.

"Never cheated on a bird before?" Paul asks, sort of challengingly. I groan.

"Well who hasn't?" I ask. His arms cross like mine.

"Angie Farrow. 1962." He says. I ball up my fist. That whole relationship was a mistake within its self.

"But it's different now, Paul. You're engaged. You love her. We're older. Aren't you tired of sleeping with a different bird every night instead of having one steady girl?" I ask.

"You're a funny one, George." He cackles. I feel sad for Jane.

"C'mon, George. This was meant to be a fun party. Go out and find yourself a girl. Even if you're too scared to sleep with her." Paul smirks. I punch his shoulder and walk out the bedroom door with him as he puts on slacks and a shirt.

We walk downstairs and he meets up with Jane, cradling her in his arms and wiping away her tears. He drags her back up to his room. What a bastard.

I prop up in the corner, taking a ciggie from one of the men with the banjos. I don't wanna get high tonight on whatever. I still feel too guilty about Jane. I search around the room. I thought Jane said something about John. Maybe he's in one of the rooms upstairs, too, cheating on his wife.

I note to myself their are some pretty good looking birds around here. I suppose I'm primarily into blondes but it makes no difference to me. I put out my ciggie on the ground, seeing as 100 other people have as well and the house isn't on fire yet. I make my way to the good-looking brunette dancing to the banjos just as a pretty blonde I hadn't noticed comes up behind me.

"Do you want to dance?" She asks. The only way I could tell what she said is by watching her lips. I nod and take her hand. I follow her rhythmic steps, her quick feet have memorized this dance. I stare into her eyes and get a little dizzy. If anyone has ever had eyes like kaleidoscopes, it's her. She's so fragile, when I put my hand on her waist she feels like porcelain. Her smile is infectious and when she laughs I feel a cackle rise in my throat.

When the song ends, she brings me to a corner and takes a flower out of her hair. Gently she places the flower behind my ear and I feel a shiver go up my spine when her warm hand touches me.

"Call me Moonbeam."