GO BACK IN TIME with Ringo11: story of the century!!
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Ringo11:
you guys are so enthusiastic! it always makes me laugh
We're like your personal cheerleaders!
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OK, is the small time reporter significant? If so...who is she? Perhaps it is me JJ
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Chica Loca:
OK, is the small time reporter significant? If so...who is she? Perhaps it is me JJ
lol, you pick up on details, i like that. no, she's no one. she serves a purpose, but only a small one. you'll find out all about that.
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OH!! I am all caught up! I love this story. I'd lost track of it for a while. please bump bump bump!!
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BUMP
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seen my shameless advertising on the not such a bad boy forum? well? why not eh
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oke....but i'm waiting for chapter 45....please...when? But it's alright to have some advertisement for your story...you deserve it, the story is wonderful!
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alright alright. you've twisted my arm chapter 45 coming right up (on a sesame seed bun)
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FORTY-FIFTH INTALLMENT After you get back from the gig, you and Paul go up to his bedroom. He disappears for a minute or two and comes back with a little heater which he plugs in and turns on. You both wear jackets until the room warms up. He puts on a record. It?s Soldier of Love which you absentmindedly sing along to for a bit. ?I wonder what scheme John has up his sleeves,? Paul says to no one in particular. It takes you a while to realise what he means. ?Do you really think he?ll get the money?? you ask. ?Probably, knowing him. Can?t promise it?ll be legal though, but that?s John for you.? ?You think he?ll nick it?? ?Nah, or he wouldn?t have asked us for that money remember?? Paul points out. ?Oh yeah, I forgot about that.? There?s a pause and Paul gets up to put on another record. It?s Clarabella, and he purses his lips and nods his head in time to the tune. ?Do you really want to go to Paris?? you ask. ?Uh, yeah, I think it?d be fun. I?ve never done anything like that before. But I don?t think Dad will be very happy about the idea. No need to tell him about it till we have enough money though is there.? ?No, I guess not. What would he say if he knew you weren?t going to school?? you ask. ?Dunno. He?d probably send me straight down to the job centre.? ?I thought you didn?t want to work.? ?I don?t. That?s why I?m not telling him. I don?t ever want to get a boring job like everyone else and be stuck working all my life. I want to be famous and make lots of money, you see if I don?t.? He suddenly realises what he?s said and who you are and watches carefully for your reaction. Luckily you notice. ?Doesn?t everyone?? you point out. ?I?d be really happy if I never had to work as well, but who knows eh?? ?Yeah,? he?s slightly disappointed that you don?t give anything away. ?I guess the important thing is that you find someone to spend your life with and all that. Sounds a bit soppy but I reckon when you get older your priorities change, you know? I hope I find a bloke as nice as you,? you say. ?That?s not soppy; I know just what you mean. I mean, it?s not like I want to settle down to early or anything cos I don?t. I want to have fun while I still can. Being middle aged and old takes up most of your time, doesn? it. But then, you have to make the most of that too I suppose,? he says. You talk like this for quite some time, listening to record after record, until Father McCartney gently knocks on the door. ?Yes?? calls Paul. Jim sticks his head around the door. ?I?m going to sleep now. I don?t mind if you two stay up but could you just turn the music off?? ?No trouble dad. Good night,? says Paul. ?Yeah, sleep well,? you say. ?Night you two,? Jim says and he gives a big warm smile that could easily have come from your 21st century Paul. He seems to finally be at ease with his teenaged son being close friends with a girl. Not bad for a father, specially seeing as you sleep in the same bed. Paul turns off his little record player and you both sit around talking in the now warm room for a bit longer. ?You as hungry as I am?? Paul asks after a while. ?Now that you mention it,? you say. ?Alright, wait here. I won?t be long,? he says as he creeps out the door. A few seconds later he pops his head back around the door. ?And don?t fall asleep,? he says with a grin. He disappears again. You shift around where you sit for a couple of minutes, then you pick up one of his records and read the back of the sleeve. It?s not really very interesting but you read the whole thing anyway. After a while comes a soft knock on the closed door. You put down the record and get up to open it. Paul is there holding a tray with both hands. On it are two mugs of warm milk and a plate of toast with butter and jam. He sets the tray down on his little bedside table and you close the door quietly. It?s quite late by now and you feel your eyelids getting heavy. Good thing it?s Sunday tomorrow. In fact, it might even be Sunday already. You drink the milk and eat the toast as you chat some more. It?s amazing how much you have to talk about considering he was brought up 40 years earlier than you. You have lots in common and you both seem to think in the same way. You talk about everything from politics and war to technology, culture, travel and food. You tell him a little bit about the future, harmless things like what sort of strange fashions exist (the ones that aren?t influenced by him of course), the sorts of food people eat and how you earn airpoints but still can?t really go anywhere.
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wish I was there!!!! *sigh* It amazes me that they sleep in the same bed.. and still behave it's supernatural...I know I couldn't. ops: A littlebit more naughtyness would do the story good, I think...but it's your story...
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No! Keep it as it is!!! It's nice for there to be a bit of innocence - anything else you can imagine for yourself surely!
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I like it the way it is. But boys of 17 aren't that innocent I read that Paul even lost his virginity at 15
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Well, I keep thinking of the airpoints that don't get you anywhere. Yeah, if I were back in time, I would have told Paul that. That's great, Ringo11!
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Guitar Kat =^..^=:
Well, I keep thinking of the airpoints that don't get you anywhere. Yeah, if I were back in time, I would have told Paul that. That's great, Ringo11!
lol, thatkyou for seeing that. that really gets under my skin, having all these airpoints and being stuck here. as for more action, you can't have read it close enough at the start. there is a great difficulty there, because you know and he knows that you're both that age, and trust each other, and know each other, not to mention want each other. but think about this! you are born in 1986. he is born in 1942. anything more than you've got has to end in tears. sometimes you can ignore that tension, but it'll be back, like it was in the start. don't worry. you know paul though, always did know his limits. sensible sort really
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have a look at chapter 14 for example.
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check out chapter 22 as well.
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also see chapter 25.
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11th page and Valentine's day. well, how about a romantic outing? but that's not that half of it... it's next time you want to hang out for FORTY-SIXTH INSTALLMENT You wake up suddenly, shivering a little bit. You?re still dressed and it?s dark. The heater is off and the other half of the blanket you are lying on is wrapped around on top of you to keep you warm. It didn?t work very well. Paul is sleeping softly beside you with a jacket on and another one covering his legs. He?s still got his clothes on too. You must have fallen asleep while you were talking last night. Paul has woken some time earlier and done his best to make you comfortable before going back to sleep himself. The curtain is still open and there is no sign of light outside. You get up carefully, still shivering, put your pyjamas on because sleeping in a lot of bunchy clothing is really uncomfortable, and get back under the blanket properly. You take the jacket off Paul?s legs and replace it with half the blanket, then you put the jacket across both of you, snuggle a bit closer to Paul and go back to sleep. This time when you wake up Paul is awake but he?s still beside you. You are still right up close to him and not in the slightest bit cold any more. You slowly open your eyes to find the sun streaming in through the window where you?d left the curtain open. There is condensation on the glass. Neither of you say anything, you just lie there and enjoy the sunlight on your faces for a while. You start thinking again, about who you are and who he is and what?s going on. You suddenly wish it wasn?t so complicated, that you could just give in and, well, be with the most beautiful guy. Here you are, living a dream, but you know, you just have a feeling, if it gets too real the bubble could burst and leave you sort of broken. It?s all so foreign and yet you feel so right here, as though this is where you really belong and not the 21st century. You try not to think about it. You try to put that kiss at the market out of your mind, and it seems so long ago. But it can?t be more than a matter of weeks, days even, since you suddenly arrived, cold and not a little scared, and being rescued by a familiar face, though he can?t know it. You think back to the drunken wedding party and that day at the market. Maybe you will be here forever. How long before you can just presume that? ?You stay there,? says Paul eventually and he carefully gets out of bed without letting cold air in. ?Why? What are you doing?? you ask. ?You?ll see,? he says and winks. He disappears out the door and you lie back on the pillow again with the sun in your face. You close your eyes and almost drift off again. After quite a while you are brought back to earth by the noise of someone entering the room. It?s Paul, and he has a tray again. This time it?s got tea, only one cup, and toast with marmalade. One piece has a bite out of it. ?One sugar?? Paul asks as he pours your tea. ?Yes please. What about you?? ?I?ve had mine, but keep your eyes off my toast,? he jokes. He picks up the nibbled piece and takes another bite. You eat your toast and sip at your tea. Breakfast in bed a la Paul McCartney. What more could a girl ask for? ?Mmm, thank you,? you say. ?My pleasure,? he replies, ?I couldn?t bare to see you have to get out of bed, you looked so happy lying there. Did you get some sleep in the end?? ?Yes. Thanks for that too,? you say, referring to letting you have all the blanket. ?That?s alright.? ?What do you want to do on this fine day?? he asks you when you?ve finished your breakfast. ?I?d love a walk on the beach and then an ice cream from the dairy and maybe go to a nice little café and have a veggie toasted bagel for lunch. Then maybe a poke around second hand shops in the afternoon to see if we can find some cute little 50s nick-knacks and? oh. Right. Liverpool. No beach, no dairy, no café with bagels? and lots of 50s nick-knacks,? you manage a straight face right up until the end of saying that. When he realises you?re joking he gives you a friendly shove. You pretend that he doesn?t know his own strength and fly out of the bed, almost knocking the tray over. ?Oh! What ever have I done!? he exclaims, putting the back of his hand to his forehead. ?Well, get up and rescue me, you great lout!? you instruct from the floor. ?It?s bloody freezing down here!? ?Oh yeah, right. Coming then.? He gets off the bed and pauses to scratch his head before stooping down and scooping you off the floor. Then he pretends you?re far too heavy for him and he falls back on the bed with you in his arms. You fall in his lap and can?t help letting out a giggle. Then you suddenly get up and offer your hand to pull him up after you. He grabs your wrist and you grab his and haul him upright. ?And that?s enough of that carry-on!? you say as you go and dig in your pile of clothing. You pull your arms in to your pyjamas and put your bra on underneath. Then, because you?re in a funny sort of mood, you turn your back to him and whip of your top. ?Ooo! I?ve come over all unnecessary!? he quips as you pull on your clothes. ?You?ve embarrassed me, I can?t look.? ?What are you doing looking anyway?? you ask jokingly. ?And you claim to be a gentleman!? ?Oh, yeah, right, sorry,? he replies. You look over your shoulder. He hasn?t stopped looking. You?re a little surprised at how little you care though. No doubt he?s probably seen a girl in a bra from the back before anyway. All the while you?ve been looking out the little window, and you suddenly realise you?ve been getting a funny look from a little old lady watering her little old flowers. You laugh. ?What?? he asks. ?I think that lady out there is more embarrassed than you are,? you tell him. ?You know, you?re probably right,? he says. You can tell he?s smiling even though you?ve got your back to him. Now that you?re dressed you turn around. He hasn?t budged from where he was standing when you helped him up off the bed. He?s standing there facing you with his arms folded across his chest and a smug look on his face. ?Enjoyed that, did you?? you ask. ?Enjoy what?? he plays the innocent. You give him a friendly punch on the arm as you pass him on your way out of the room. He unfolds his arms and points a finger at you. ?Hey,? he says with a stern look, and follows you down the stairs.
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to hell with it! here's the next one too FOURTY-SEVENTH INSTALLMENT ?I thought we could have a picnic in the park while this weather holds out. It?s unusual for this time of year, what do you think?? he suggests when you get to the kitchen. ?Yeah, sounds great,? you reply as you help yourself to a glass of water. Jim shuffles into the kitchen at this point. ?Stick the kettle on and make us a brew would you son,? he tells Paul. ?Mornin? lass. Sleep well?? ?No,? you reply. ?Oh. Well, you had a good lie in to make up for it I suppose. What are you two up to on this fine day?? he enquires as he sits himself down at the table to wait for his cuppa. ?We thought we?d have a picnic in the park. We?ll pack up some sarnies and a bottle of drink in a bag and have a nice little lunch in the sun like,? Paul tells him. ?Oh, sounds lovely,? Jim says, although you get the feeling he?s really not all that interested. He?s in a dressing gown and slippers and you guess he must have had a sleep in too. Mike is still in bed. After Paul has made a pot of tea and his father is happy, you set about preparing your picnic. You make little sandwiches with white bread and no crusts, and you take a little bottle of orange juice to share. Paul loads it all into a bag which he slings over his shoulder, and, bidding Jim have a good day, heads out the door with you in tow. You head down the road and to the park. It?s in walking distance so no need to wait for any bus today. When you get there you pick a nice little spot in the sun and sit down on the grass. You get out all your little sarnies, and you discover the ones you put tomato in have gone a bit soggy. There are lots of others so you feed the soggy ones to the birds. The sun shines as you chat and eat and loose track of time and place. Then suddenly the light fades. You both look up at the sky to see one big cloud over the sun. ?It?ll pass, don?t worry about it,? Paul assures you. You?re not so sure. ?Look over there,? you tell him, pointing over to the horizon. There the blue sky gives way to one huge mass of dark, foreboding clouds. ?I think they?re headed this way too,? you say. ?We?ll be alright until we?ve finished this lot,? Paul says. You agree and forget about the clouds. The sun comes back and you start just chatting and eating again. Just as you take the last bite of the last little sandwich you feel a drop on your nose. ?I just felt a drop on my nose,? you say. Just then the sun disappears again. This time when you look up half the sky is grey and the other half is rapidly disappearing too. You pack the picnic things back into the bag and get up, ready to set off before the rain sets in. You hear a deep rumble in the distance. You and Paul both look at each other at the same time. He hauls the bag onto his shoulder and you set off at quick pace. You?ve barely made it out of the park when the drops get heavier. You feel the temperature plummet and pull your collar closer to your neck to stop the drops getting in. You hear another rumble and quicken the pace even more. Then it sets in. The heavy drops have soaked the ground and your shoulders in no time. ?Typical, this,? Paul says as he hunches up his shoulders against the water. ?Only a bit of rain,? you say. ?I?m just glad we got to have a lovely picnic before it started!? ?Yeah, you?re right. Always looking on the bright side aren?t you!? ?Yes, I try. I?m following the example of one of the greatest men this century will ever see,? you say. ?Who?s that then?? he asks. ?Oh, you wouldn?t know him yet.? As you dash back to the house, it seems much further away than it was when you left. You can smell the wet ground and there are puddles forming on the streets with big fat drops sploshing into their muddy waters. By this time you and Paul are completely drenched. You might even have said that your skin?s soaked right through to the skin. You feel yourself start to shiver and walk a bit faster. When you get back to the house you?re both dripping wet and miserable. Paul?s hair is all flat and his fringe is getting in his eyes. You squelch into the kitchen and he lights the fire while you put the kettle on. You look at each other and laugh. You figure you must look as bedraggled and miserable as he does. You move up to him and brush his dark hair from his face. You get the big dark eye treatment again. Oh god. I can?t do this, you think. But you know you won?t have a choice. You?ve got yourself into this, and there is no backing out. You get butterflies in your stomach. You take a deep breath through your nose. He hasn?t taken his eyes off you. You lower the hand you used to brush aside his hair, and he moves a hand to your waist. He doesn?t need to pull you closer because you take a step forward and place your hand on his arm. Suddenly you feel as if you?re both older somehow. In fact, you feel as if you?re in a play. His other hand finds the back of your neck and yours automatically ends up on his jaw. You feel the slight roughness of his chin, the beginnings of that big black beard, as you move closer still. You?re aware of his hands. You?re aware of his lips. No going back! You wouldn?t want to. This is certainly a step up from the drunken snogging of the wedding party or the nervous discovery of the market. You feel that tension relieved which you hadn?t even realised was there. This is another one of those moments you never want to end. You seem to have had more of those since you met Paul than you?ve ever had in your life. But is does end, as all good things do. You don?t get all embarrassed this time though. You just stand there, his hands on your hips, close together. Still soaking wet, but you?ve forgotten all that. You feel at peace with the world. That was undoubtedly the best kiss you?ve ever had. With the best guy you?ve ever met. And as you stand there in his arms you can?t help but feel it?s forever. Which reminds you that it may very well not be. Your heart drops. Now you remember why you hadn?t done this up till now. How can you put your feelings on the line like this, risking a broken heart? You realise then that it was too late from the day you met him. But you still just know that taking it up a level, no matter how much you?d both like to, is just not possible. He is old enough to be your grandfather, has had two wives and 4 or 5 children. Reality check. ?We?re still dripping all over the floor,? you say, pulling away. He lets go of you and looks down at the puddle. He laughs and moves closer to you again. You hesitate. He seems puzzled. God, this is wreaking havoc with both of your feelings! ?Paul-? you begin. How do you word something like this?? He looks at you with those eyes again, but with a questioning look now. ?I still don?t think we can?? you attempt. Shit this is hard. ?I know,? he says to your surprise. ?But we can?t just be friends. It?s killing me. Every night with? and it?s killing you too, I can tell.? ?It is. You wouldn?t believe what all this is doing. I know your future for god?s sake!? He looks at you suddenly. ?Please pretend I never said that. Please.? ?Ah. Well, okay. But you did, didn?t you.? ?I didn?t mean to. My mind is a mess right now. Just, lets pretend none of this ever happened.? You get up and move back to the door. ?Right, I?m coning in the door all wet and putting on the kettle. Now, let?s have that cuppa.? After a while you are slowly drying out with warm cups of tea in your hands, happy and chatting again. ?What a bit of luck that we got back indoors when we did, otherwise we?d?ve been soaked!? Paul jokes, and you see a flash of lightning outside. ?Yeah, we might have caught our deaths out there,? you say, as you hear the thunder rolling. ?Now what are we going to do?? ?I don?t know. Sit in front of the fire and drink tea I suppose,? he answers. ?It?ll be time we were getting dinner under way soon anyway.? ?Is it that late already?? you ask. You look out the window and notice that the sky is darkening. ?We must have been at the park longer than I thought!? ?You?ve got pink cheeks from the sun,? Paul teases. ?Better than a red nose,? you reply. He looks shocked and touches his nose. ?I do not! ?Do I?? ?Go and look in the mirror,? you tell him. He looks in the toaster. ?I don?t, see.? ?I know. I was only having you on to see if you?d believe me.? ?I?ll get you for that, you?ll see.? ?Keep Britain tidy,? you reply. He laughs and pours himself more tea. The fire crackles politely and after a while you put the dinner on.
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I love this story!