The year was 1967, Dianne teased Mick Jagger with his cigarettes. "Eh. . . if you don't give those back to me, I'll tell Keith about your fancying for him." He smirked, evilly and then, yelled, "KEITH!" She sighed and played with Mick's ciggy box behind my back. "Mick." Keith whined, opening the door, his hair messed up and perfect. "Here, babe." Dianne said handing Keith a cigarette. "Thanks, baby." He kissed me on the lips as she smirked into the kiss at Mick's astonished face. Charlie, Brian and Bill came in the room, and Brian said, "You didn't know? They fancied each other for a while now."

Short and sweet. Gosh, huge writer's block. Peace and love.