IF NOT FOR YOU {George Harrison}

Chapter 4

What am I doing? These are two complete strangers! George could have told John about this and he pretended to faint or something.

I let John slip a bit and he hit the ground with a smack. Definitely unconscious. I picked him up and continued to drag him. I looked at George out of the corner of my eye. He looked to be struggling under John's weight and like he was concentrating on the ground. I decided it was best to make conversation. I would be able to tell if he had ulterior ideas if he talked.

"So," John groaned as his foot caught a rock. "How're ye findin' Hamburg?"

"We came here to play, as ye know. It was John's idea. Thought it would bring us some popularity and such. But the people here are strange as hell."

He glanced at me through John's sandy brown hair. The full moon reflected in his eyes.

"Why're ye here? You're clearly not from 'ere."

"Uncle. Owns the bar, which means good job for me and underage vodka drinking. I came here earlier this summer. That's when I met Stu."

We passed under a streetlight, the rays of yellow light making George's dark hair glow and John's sandy hair glisten.

"Underage?" He asked. "Ye really are not old enough to work in a bar?"

I nodded. "But don't tell anyone. It's illegal."

George grinned at me.

"I'm 17. Lied on me papers. This country thinks I'm 18."

"I'm 17 too, turn 18 in two weeks."

George's grin shrank, and he muttered, "I don't turn 18 until February."

We had reached the flat where the boys were staying. It smelled of pee and I heard the pitter patter of mice in the walls. There was screaming coming from above us, and someone was having sex on the bottom bunk of one of the beds.

"Cozy," I muttered. The lights remained off as we carried John over to the other bottom bunk. Moans and the occasional "Ohhh, Pete." Came from the other bunk. I didn't look and it took a lot of strength. George and I quickly deposited John onto the empty bottom bunk. I took the thin blanket and put it over his shoulders while George took off his shoes. After he was all settled, John opened his eyes, squinted at me, and whispered, "Mum?"

I rolled my eyes. George gestured to the door and we both left, right as the bird in what I'm assuming was Pete's bunk, cried out his name.

We both broke into a run and by the time we were to the street, we were both crying from laughter.

"Ohhhh Pete, don't stop."

George mimicked the girl and I said, "Oh Francine, ohhhh."

I used the street lamp for support and I held my stomach and continued to laugh. After a few more hilarious impersonations, our laughter bubbled down to deep breathes and the occasional chuckle.

"This is not 'ow I pictured my night going," I said, brushing my auburn hair away from my face. George grinned, those sharp teeth peeking through his lips.

"I concur. This has been a bloody travesty."

I gestured back towards the bar.

"I need to be getting home, I've an early shift tomorrow."

George held out his elbow, softly asking, "Can I walk ye? Since it's not far?"

I considered for a moment, and then decided oh, what the hell. If I die, I die. And besides...I felt the iron knuckles I kept in my pocket. He can try but he won't succeed.

"Yeah, sure."

"So," George finally broke the silence. "You're Astrids cousin?"

I glanced at him. He was gazing up at the sky, at the moon.

"Yes. She's 2 years older then me, but I would say we're pretty close."

He was silent again, so I asked, "What're ye lookin' at?"

He stopped, as though catching himself. "Sorry, I just get distracted sometimes. I was jus thinkin about how the moon changes colors."

I gave him a confused look. When he saw, he quickly explained.

"I mean, there's a blue moon and a blood moon and a wolf moon and others. How does it change colors? Is it somethin' in the atmosphere?"

I smiled at him softly. This conversation surprised me. George had seemed like the observant type, but this was such an odd and abrupt idea that I fell in love with it. Such a strange question that surely had a thousand answers.

"I don't know. Maybe it's somethin' it ate. Or maybe the sun reflects off of the ocean and turns it colors? Or, most likely of all, the moon is made of cheese and it slowly gets more and more moldy."

He beamed at me. "Ye think like I do. It's definitely made of lemon pie, though."

I frowned at him.

"What in heavens name is a lemon pie?"

He gaped at me.

"Ye've never had lemon pie? Lemon Merengue pie is the actual name, my brothers always called it lemon pie."

I shook my head. He gasped very dramatically.

"My sweet lord."

I chuckled at this interesting remark.

"Do ye have a recipe? I'm a baker, maybe I can learn and make some?"

He bit his lip, clearly excited. We had made to the bar. My family lived just next door to it, so he walked me up to the doorstep.

"I'll ask me mum to mail me the recipe. Maybe," he licked his lips. "Maybe we could make it together?"

I gave him another soft smile.

"I'd love that, George. Be seeing ya?"

He nodded, walking backwards towards the guys flat.

"Be seeing ya!"

A/N: I love that Dash hasn't even met Pete and she's already heard him having sex :)
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