⇾𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 | 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐈𝐈

Chapter Seventy-Three: It Isn't Mean if I Say I Love You

June 19, 1967

"You what?" I asked John and Paul incredulously.

"Paul fucking told them everything," John told me bitterly.

We were in the car. I was driving Paul home from the studio before we had a doctor's appointment to get to. Jane had driven him to the studio, but he needed a ride home, so John and I had offered to help. I had taken John in in the morning too since I was working at NEMS, so I became a carpool driver really quick.

"They asked!" Paul retorted, throwing his hands up in defense.

"Paul, you don't just casually drop that you've done acid!" John said horrifically. "Especially to the media."

"Half the fucking songs we've written in the past two years have been about drugs," Paul murmured. "It's not like they didn't already know."

"You're a dumbass, Paul," I told him.

"Mhm, thanks, Mom," he muttered, crossing his arms in the backseat.

"At least none of my acid troops have been accidental," he snapped at John and I.

"If you're talking about the fucking recording session—."

"And the tea!"

"Oh, so now I'm a part of this?" I asked him incredulously.

"You're both ridiculing me, so yes."

"Next time you don't have a ride home, you can walk," I said flatly, pulling up to Paul's house.

"Yeah, right," he mocked.

"Oh, no, I mean it." He blinked in surprise a few times. "Now, get out of my car."

"Sorry, Donna," he muttered as he opened the door. "I'm an dumbass."

"Oh, yes, Paul, believe me, I know."

"Have a nice appointment," he said with a wave.

"Yeah, have a nice life," John told him, not looking back. "What a fucking idiot," he remarked as soon as the door closed behind Paul, his head leaning on his hand as he looked out the window.

I chuckled as I went to pull away. "You can say that again."

~~~

"So, Mrs. Lennon, how are you feeling?"

Violet pressed her hands against my belly, feeling the shape of the babies with a smile.

"I'm feeling...well, not really so good," I admitted. "There's just a lot of pain. Everywhere."

"We're worried that she won't be able to get up our stairs soon," John added for me. "What will we even do then?"

Violet pulled back to write something on the clipboard sitting on her lap. She looked up. "Well, that's inevitable, I think. Have you got anywhere else to sleep downstairs, assuming you sleep upstairs?"

"We do," I told her. "It's not ideal, but we can make it work, I wager." I smiled.

"Well, perfect." She smiled. "Let's listen to the heartbeat. Anything else been going on?"

"I've been having Braxton Hicks contractions," I told her. "They don't hurt, but they're certainly not pleasant either." I laughed.

"Ah, yes," she said after she'd listened to both of the heartbeats briefly. "Have they been consistent? Or just random?" she asked, going back in to listen again.

"Well, they usually happen between noon and three," I explained. "Sometimes there's three an hour and sometimes there's two. I guess it depends on the day."

"Well, I trust you know that that is normal. It's good, even. Let's us know that everything is moving along smoothly."

"That's a relief," I said with a laugh. "I guess I'll put up with it then."

She laughed too. "Now, we've got just a few more things to do," she explained, turning around to retrieve something from the counter behind her.

I looked over at John who was staring at me. I waved in front of his face and he snapped out of his trance and smiled at me a smile that I graciously returned.

~~~

"Donna?" I turned to John and he forced a chip into my mouth.

"Fuck," I spluttered as I began to choke on the piece of food. John fell back on the floor of our living room laughing and finally I managed to swallow it. "If I wasn't fat and slow, I'd pummel you," I snapped at him, frowning extensively in disapproval.

"I love you!" he yelled. "It isn't mean if I say I love you!"

"Where the hell did you hear that?" I asked him incredulously.

"Nowhere," he said, sitting back up and taking a chip of his own off the plate. Before he could put it into his mouth, I took his hand and jammed it forward, managing to choke him. Now, it was my turn to laugh as he struggled to swallow the food. When he finally did, he smirked at me. "Well played."

"I love you! It isn't mean if I say I love you!" I mocked.

He laughed and put his arms around me. Then, he began to tickle me in the sides, causing me to squeal. "John, nooo!" I shouted, my arms tightening around him from where I'd been hugging him just moments before.

"Oh, no, it's high time you pay for all those times you've mocked me!"

"I'm sorry, John, you're just so mockable."

"John?" he asked. "Is that what you said?" He leaned down and brushed his lips against my neck.

"Dammit, John," I cursed under my breath, unable to hold still as he continued to tickle me. "Yes, it's what I said. Isn't that your name?" I remarked.

He pulled back and grinned at me. I kept my arms around his neck, finally able to breathe properly as his hands came to a steady rest around my waist. I was waiting for him to lean back in, but he didn't. "Did I do something wrong?" I asked, desperation in my voice.

"We should clean up, love," he said, moving his hands so he could take mine from around his neck, and standing up.

"Is that really necessary?" I asked him.

He reached down to take my hand and helped me stand when I accepted it. "Yes, it is," he confirmed. "It is most certainly my top priority right now."

"Oh, fine," I huffed. "But afterwards, you have to promise you'll listen to me," I warned with a cheeky grin.

He couldn't resist an excited smile. "Right," he answered. "I promise."

"Pinky promise?" I teased, extending my pinky finger.

He but his lip hooked his finger around mine. "Pinky promise."

~~~

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