Paul woke slowly the next morning and he sighed contently. Then, he heard someone. He felt someone move behind him and he slowly looked around.

     It took all of his willpower not to yelp when he turned and saw that John was squeezed into a bed with him. John's arms were wrapped around him, holding him close, and for a moment Paul's breathing stopped.

     Then all of the events of the night before came rushing back and Paul relaxed.

     He didn't know where this was going to go or why it was meant to happen or how he was even going through with this but Paul just didn't care at the very moment. Something about all of this...it felt right. Being in John's arms, kissing him, running his hands through his hair.... It felt right, somehow.

     Paul slowly sat up and cautiously slipped out of bed, careful not to wake John. He walked across the hotel room to stand by the window and he looked out, down into the street below.

      It was odd. Paul was seventy three years old. He had been married three times, to three different women. And now here he was, kissing his best friend and sleeping in the same bed as him... His dead best friend, that is.

      He couldn't help but think of Linda again, and how he couldn't save her. He didn't want to think about how this meant that Mary and Stella and James would never be born. Linda was dead, and that meant that their children would be erased from history... And what would happen to Heather? What would become of her now that she was going to have to grow up without a mother? Paul figured she would end up with her biological father. The idea bothered him somehow.

      John groaned as he woke up, pressing the heel of his palm to his head. "I'm so hungover," he murmured.

      Paul turned and looked at him and John looked up at Paul.. Their eyes met.

      John gulped. "Did..did last night really happen?"

      "Yes," Paul nodded and couldn't help but smile.

     "Okay, okay," John nodded slowly, the gears in his head turning as he tried to figure out what his next move should be. "Right, okay... So, what happens now? Where do we go from here?"

      "I haven't got a clue," Paul said. "Honestly, this was the last thing I ever expected from you, or from me for that matter... But last night was..." Paul shook his head. "I don't think there's a word to describe it."

      "It was nice," John smiled.

      "Nice?" Paul laughed. "Nice? Kissing me was just nice?" He was grinning from ear to ear and John was laughing. "It wasn't great or amazing or the best damn thing you've ever done in your life?"

      "Okay, you're right," John nodded. "It was the best damn thing I've ever done in my life."

      Paul nodded slowly. "That's more like it," he said. What am I doing? He wondered. What could possibly come of all of this?

     "This does bring a very important matter to hand, of course," John said.

     "Oh? What's that?" Paul said, still lost in his wondering if where to go from here and how to handle this situation.

      John raised his eyebrows and gave Paul a look that told him it should be obvious. "I don't know what this is that we have blossoming between us, Paul, but whatever it is...it is very very very illegal."

      Oh. That. Paul thought. It hadn't even crossed his mind until John said it out loud because, honestly, he was still so used to the twenty first century where gay people could get married and adopt and be, overall, accepted by society. And then there was the sixties....

      Paul was back in a time when homosexuality was frowned upon and could get you thrown in jail and the entirety of it all was only just hitting him now... And of course, it was now that Paul realized just how much love for John Lennon had been buried deep inside of him.

      He strode across the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. What am I doing? He wondered again, but he just didn't care anymore...even if he did keel worrying about it anyway.

     He leaned in tentatively, hesitating for a few moments, before he kissed John gently. "I don't care what other people think," Paul said and smiled.

      "So...what does that mean for us?" John raised one eyebrow.

      "It could mean a lot of different things," Paul said. "But all in all, I just want it to mean that we can be together."

      John smiled. "That seems like a fair deal," he said. "You know...I think this was bound to happen."

      "Oh, really? And why is that?" Paul smiled.

     "We're in Paris," John said with a wink. "And after all, it's the city of love."

~~~

     On their last night in Paris, they were squished into one bed together, lying there...wide awake. They didn't say anything. Not at first, anyway. Paul's eyes were closed, a content smile on his face, and he was deep in thought about how he'd come to be here again, but in a very different way from how he experienced Paris the first time round. John's eyes were open, staring up at the ceiling, and he was blissfully unaware that his boyfriend was really seventy three and had already lived the majority of his life once. And for a very long while they stayed silent and didn't say a thing.

      And then John spoke.

          "Hey, Paulie?"

     "Hm?" Paul responded, opening one eye.

     "Do you think we'll make it?" John asked.

     "Where? Back to Liverpool?" Paul questioned. "Because if that's the case, then yes. I think we'll get back to Liverpool."

      John rolled his eyes. "No, I mean... Do you think we'll make it? As musicians?"

     Paul said up and looked at John with the absolute biggest smile on his face. "Absolutely," he nodded. "I think we're going to be the biggest thing to happen to music since Elvis Presley."

     "Got high hopes, Macca?" John chuckled.

     "Of course," Paul nodded.

     "Honest?" John raised an eyebrow.

     "What's a relationship without honesty?" Paul smiled and John smiled back at Paul's use of the word 'relationship'.

      "It's just, you know...I don't want to go around living dumbly, you know what I mean? I want to be seen by the world, I want to leave something behind. I know that everyone says it, but I want to leave my mark on this world. I don't want to just die without a trace; I want people to have heard my songs and understood what I was trying to tell them, the messages I was trying to give. I want people to see that there was beauty in me, even I'm not around to keep trying to convince them of that." 

      Paul looked at him for a long while before he carded his fingers through John's hair and smiled, his eyes twinkling with admiration. "Well, you've already got me convinced."

      "Thanks, Macca," John said. He grabbed Paul's arm and pulled him gently down so that he could wrap his arms around his boyfriend. Boyfriend! God, that word sounded so great in John's head.

      "So what are those things that you want to tell the world?" Paul asked, intertwining his fingers with John's and wondering at how he'd never held John's hand like this. And how he'd never gotten to see how beautiful it was when John's strong, steady hands met Paul's long fingers.

      "What am I trying to say to the world..." John said. "That is the real question, now, isn't it. I guess what I want to say is that the world should be at peace. I just don't see the point in wars, you know? If we could all just get along and stop killing one another, the world would be such a better place.... I don't know, maybe I'm a dreamer. But I can't be the only one."

      Paul repressed the small laugh that he wanted to let out and he just smiled up at John. "Yeah, I agree...Just.." He said, and he just couldn't resist this hilarious opportunity, even if John was baring his soul here. "Just imagine that."

      John nodded and smiled.

~~~

      A couple days later when they were on the train ride back to the northern part of France where they would catch a ferry back to England, John fell asleep and Paul found himself thinking about his feelings.

     He didn't understand how one minute John could be his best friend, and the next minute he was his lover.

      Then again, Paul also had never quite understood how one day he met John and the next thing he knew they were best mates, inseparable. They did everything together. Paul supposed that he had fallen in love with John Lennon the same way he had become his friend; he grew to care for him. But he cared and then he cared more and more until all of a sudden, he cared more than he had ever realized before.

      It was crazy, though, to think that he couldn't pinpoint when John became so important to him. He couldn't pinpoint when he fell in love with John Lennon. It was kind of like watching a snowstorm, Paul thought. You see the flakes falling, but you don't realize how they're adding up. Then, all of a sudden, your lawn is covered. All these little things have added up. John was Paul's snowstorm.

~~~

      When they got back to Liverpool and George came over, Paul's first thought was that maybe they should tell George was had happened in Paris. He didn't though. He figured that he should consult with John on such a thing, and besides, who knows how George would have reacted....

      As much as Paul hated it, being gay was considered a very bad thing in the sixties and though George, a little later in life, wasn't bothered by Brian being gay, Paul wasn't so sure about how he'd react this early in life.

      As the three of them stood in the kitchen, laughing over stories from Paris and talking about the gig they had at the Cavern Club a a few nights later, Paul began to think about George. He remembered a time before John, before the band, when George was his best friend - when George was the one he told everything. He remembered how hurt George had been when John came along, and he remembered how that hurt had never quite gone away.

      This time, Paul would make it better.

      "Did you know that Paul can speak French?!" John said quite suddenly, remembering what had happened at the restaurant on their second day in Paris.

     "What?!" George said and laughed. "Are you serious?"

      "Yeah!" John nodded.

     "Isn't French, like, the language of love or something?" George laughed hysterically. "It's about sappy, don't you think, Paulie?"

     The two of them made fun of Paul all evening and Paul just rolled his eyes and laughed along with them, unable to feel anything but joy. He was sure that this was how everything was meant to be, and he was determined to make sure that everything went right this time.

~~~

     Paul dreamt that night, of July 1957. It was the day after he met John and he went to visit George. "Georgie! You'll never believe who I met yesterday at the Woolton fete! It was absolutely insane!

      "Oh, yeah? Who?" George said as he stood at the counter in the kitchen, preparing a sandwich for himself.

      "John Lennon," Paul grinned.  

      "Doesn't he have a band or something?" George said, topping off his sandwich with a slice of bread. He put his sandwich on a plate and sat down across from Paul at the kitchen table.

     "Yeah," Paul nodded. "They performed at the fete yesterday. They're alright. I mean, there's this blonde guy who can't play for shit and everyone is....okay. But John! Oh my god! His guitar skills are fantastic and he can sing like nothing I've ever heard before!"

     "Oh?" George said, biting into his sandwich.

     "Yeah, and so Ivan introduced me," Paul said. "And when John and I met, he asked me if I'd play something on my guitar and I did and he loves it! Everyone was so impressed that I knew all the lyrics!" Paul laughed.

      "You played Twenty Flight Rock, didn't you," George said.

     "'Course," Paul said. "Anyway, guess what happened after all of that?"

     "What?" George asked, looking mildly curious.

     "He asked me to join his band!" Paul said, still in disbelief.

     "You're joking," George said.

     "Nope!"

     "Oh," George looked down at his sandwich. "And did you..did you say you would? Join the band, I mean?"

     "Yeah," Paul nodded.

     "Oh," George said.

     "Okay, what's wrong, George?" Paul sighed.

     "Nothing,"

     "I know you, George. Don't give me that bullshit." Paul said. "Seriously, what's bothering you?"

      George sighed and avoided Paul's gaze. "It's nothing, really... Just that, well - well you get picked on a lot for hanging round with me and, you know, I'm quite a bit younger than you and I can't help but feel like if you start hanging round with someone like John Lennon..."

      Paul rolled his eyes. "Don't be ridiculous, Georgie.. You're my best mate! I'm not going to replace you. I'm just going to be in a band, that's all it is."

     "Promise?"

     "Promise."

~~~

      In the weeks that followed, Paul and John fell into a beautiful new way of living their lives. John's nightmares weren't quite as bad, now. Some nights he didn't even wake up. He figured it was because he had Paul with him now, holding him close, but no matter how many times Paul asked, John refused to tell him what the nightmares were about.

      One night they were lying awake in bed, unable to sleep. John was making circles with his thumb on Paul's hand and Paul's fingers were running through John's hair slowly.

      "John?" Paul said. "How long have you loved me?"

     "Since the day we met," John smiled down at him and Paul smiled back, his mind beginning to race with nervousness. "But I'll admit, I didn't realize it or even begin to admit to myself until we were in Hamburg."

      "Oh," Paul smiled. For a moment there he'd been worried that this all had nothing to with the Big Hamburg Realization, as he had come to call it in his head.

      Another night, John went to bed early because he said he had a headache, and Paul said he was going to stay up and write a bit. John wrapped his arms around his boyfriend and kissed him slowly, hands pressed flat against Paul's power back. "Come to bed soon, yeah?"

     "Yeah," Paul smiled, carding his fingers through John's hair once before Lennon turned and went to bed. Paul made some tea then sat down in the sitting room with his notebook, sipping his tea and trying to get some lyrics out of his head.

      "Hey, Paulie," a familiar voice came.

      Paul looked up and smiled. "Hello, Barney." He noted that Barney was looking happy again, more like the night he'd met him... But he still couldn't ignore the dark circles under the man's eyes or how his hair looked like it hadn't been brushed or washed in a few days.

      "So, when is it?" Barney said. "Late September? Early October?"

     "October twenty eighth, actually," Paul said.

     Barney's eyes lit up. "Oh," he said. "So I haven't been here in quite a while. Erm, how was Paris?"

      "It was nice," Paul shrugged and sipped his tea, repressing the smirk that he could feel forming. "Nothing special."

     Barney's face fell. "Oh. Okay. So nothing big happened? Nothing at all?"

     "Big, big, big..." Paul tapped his chin. "Oh! Well, there was this one thing."

     "Hm?" Barney nodded, looking bored, like he didn't expect it to be anything truly special.

      "John told me that he's been in love with me since the day we met," Paul smiled. "And that he realized it when we were in Hamburg. Well, actually, that happened a few nights ago. But one night in Paris we kissed."

      Barney grinned. "Really?"

     Paul nodded.

     "So John is in love with you?" He said.

     Paul nodded again.

     "And you're in love with him?" Barney laughed for joy.

     "Yes, I am." Paul said and the reality of it all amazed him. "I mean, I never realized it before but once I did it's like...I've loved him my whole life. Or, at least, since the day I met him. But so many things kept getting in the way and I never realized it but I do! I - I love him. So much."

      Barney beamed.

     "And - and now I'm more determined than ever," Paul said. "I'm not going to lose him. Not this time."

     Barney nodded, the grin fading from his face. "Paul, you're going to have to fight for him. You're going to face so many obstacles in your life this time, many more than last time. Those who are working against the F.H.O. are going to fight tooth and nail to kill John Lennon."

     Paul nodded. "I know, but I can do it."

     "I know you can," Barney nodded. "All I'm saying, Paul, is that you've got to do whatever it takes to keep John alive."

     "I will," Paul nodded. "Whatever the price to keep him is, I'll pay it."

     Barney nodded. "Good... Well, I'd better be off. Have a nice night, Paul."

     "Thanks. You, too,"

~~~

      On November ninth, Paul woke up with a smile on his face. He knew what day it was. He'd been anticipating that day for weeks and he could hard,y contain his excitement.

     He and John stood in the kitchen a while late eating cereal for breakfast and John looked up at the clock. "Shit," John said. "It's already nine thirty. We're playing the lunchtime show today at the Cavern Club." He sighed. "I hate the lunchtime show, hardly anyone is ever there."

      But it's going to be such a great show today! Paul thought.

     John put his cereal bowl in the sink. "I suppose we should get ready then," he said and Paul nodded as he finished off his own cereal and stacked his own Paul atop John's. John slipped his arms around Paul and kissed him deeply. "It still feels so new exciting to be able to do that.."

     Paul smiled. "I know, right?"

     "Okay," John said. "Let's get dressed."

     "I'll be there in a minute," Paul said.

     "All right," John nodded. "Don't be too long, though. We have to leave in a bit."

     Paul nodded and watched John walk away. He was dating John Lennon! He still couldn't get over that. It was so crazy, and it felt so wrong and right at the same time and his head was constantly spinning... It was almost too much for him handle.

      He was dating John Lennon...and on top of that, in a few hours, he would meet Brian Epstein for the first time.

      Well, actually it would be their second first meeting.