Looking sharp, John thought as he moved through the ball room. Floor to ceiling mirrors lined the wall along one side assisting in his checking out of his own reflection. He wasn't vain nor an overly egotist lad... 

Alright, maybe a little egotistical but that goes with the profession doesn't it... Need to look good for all the hordes of fans, and all photographs being taken, don't you.

Although as I chase after Isabelle and her posse, well that's how it seems, I look a little like the bloke that chases after a bit of skirt on the telly. Benny Hill, the dirty bugger, funny as shit though.

This was my shindig and all of a sudden, she's surrounded like Custer at the Alamo – was Custer at the Alamo? No wonder I couldn't get a green card straight up, I don't know American History 101.

Isabelle the conqueror, conqueress? I don't know it's just slightly askew all this. Nice but bloody crazy weird.

Her face was a myriad of emotions when the first gal rocked up, nice piece too, not that I'm in the market cause I'm not but she was put together nicely and a rack to die for... Anyway where was I, yeah, the gal turns out to be Issys' boss lady, Loriele, from the publishers' and the first word out of her mouth had Isabelle looking like a wanted duck in duck shooting season.

Bloody shit that, stupid idiots blowing a whistle to sound like a duck, get it over for a date with said whistle then shoot it- horrid stuff.

Anyhoo. Where'd she go...!?

Oh, drinks.

"Thanks mate" Lemonade neat, I am being a good sober lad tonight.

Called her Giselle didn't she. I spit my orange juice over the table cloth and the four woman, that were seated at the table with us, started hitting my back because they thought I was choking.

I was choking but not on the orange juice.

Poor Isabelle, she was up and off, pulling Loriele away in a matter of seconds. I was still choking at that point by the way. Anyway, sure Isabelle was all sugar and spice but she was also overly speedy trying to get this Loriele chick to pipe down on the alter ego moniker.

Finally, I was rid of the mayoress, her daughter, Dick Clarks niece, a portly matron from the East side plus an overly touchy-feely waitress that was passing by.

And now, here I find myself tailing Isabelle who was herding a few more women toward a bank of palm trees cutting off the main room from the bathrooms.

"Girls- Giselle. Giselle... your fans" Loriele grinned as she swung the champagne flute in her hand.

"Lori- shush"

"Really!?!... The actual author Gise-" a lookalike of Loriele piped up.

Isabelle went to throw a good old shush in but Loriele cut her off.

*

"Oh hush, we won't tell" Loriele grinned wickedly at John who had caught up and was hovering behind Issy.

"I loved your last novel, G-"

"Issy" Isabelle clarified her name with a worried look on her face.

"Who's your friend Issy- G? Oh I know, it's-" Loriele teased Iss.

"He's not, he was just trying to go to the bathroom weren't you Mister Lennon, lovely event by the way" Issy tried to shoo John to the bathrooms as he smirked and stood his ground listening, and watching, Issy flap about.

"When will the next novel be out? Do you think you could sign it for me?" Another lady asked of Issy.

"Oh, I think Mister Lennon might be a fan- Hello John" Loriele stepped past Issy and held her hand out for John to shake.

"No, no! I think he has to pass by to use the bathrooms" Issy moved a little to 'let John pass by to use the bathrooms.'

"Iss, it's ok" John put a hand on Isabelle's shoulder and she squirmed making him frown at her actions.

"Will you excuse me ladies, I was sitting near Mister Lennon earlier and was asking him about character traits of an egotistical musician for my next novel. He obviously thinks it's time to tell me his secrets"

Ohhhhs and Ahhs abound as Issy dragged a smirking John toward a hallway that ran down from the main ball room to the kitchens. A small linen closet was left ajar, letting Issy manoeuvre John inside.

"What are you doing?!"

"What are you doing!?"

"I'm giving you a chance to save yourself from my trash novels and the looks I'll surely get for them"

"Poppy cock, you're just embarrassed to be seen with me"

"Are you for real!?" Issy eyeballed John, waiting for him to realise what he had said. He rolled his eyes back at her, making her groan "Arghhh! John I write explicit novels! You shouldn't be assossicated with me. I'll head them off and see you in a bit"

"So you didn't bring me in the closet for a little-"

"Oh my goodness! You're so much trouble you are. Here, one kiss and off you trot"

"I'm not a miniture pony Isabelle I have feelings and a hankering for closets... Don't answer that; I've heard it all before" John smiled, nothing bothered him anymore and everything now seemed to bother Isabelle instead.

Was she over-blowing everything? But this was his good name, well his name, he didn't need to be so–

"Stop it Isabelle"

"What?"

"Stop thinking. I don't care, I've caused most every person on this god given planet some sort of upset. I don't care if my lady writes about aliens, apes or sex"

"But-"

"I don't care. I think you write great stuff and if some squares don't care for it, I don't care. What I do care for is you ok. I support you. You support me right?"

"Of... Of course I do, always. It's just ... It's so sudden. Unexpected- here- now, isn't it. I don't like being ambushed"

"Go on out there. Ask them to call you Isabelle, accept their compliments then come back to me, easy done... alright?" John tipped her chin "I don't give a rats for the establishments status quo, you know that, don't you. John 'always trouble' Lennon, aren't I?" John cocked his hip and posed comically making Issy giggle.

"And if they ask?"

"About us?" John lay his palm on her cheek. He wanted to touch her hair but he didn't want to mess it up for her just yet. Issy nodded an affirmative biting her lip. "If they ask, say that John Lennon is one lucky bugger"

He tugged her to him, staring into her eyes "Because I am Isabelle"

***

"Sorry I was so long. You know the line up for the ladies toilets" Issy sat back down chattering away not looking at anyone but John.

"They're not listening darlin Jerry Lewis is trying to be funny. They're trying not to miss the punch line- if there is one..." John leaned back in his chair and ran his hand soothingly down her back. Jerry paced the stage garnering a smattering of laughs .

"They were nice"

"See, no hassles"

"Hmmmm"

"You'll be right, accept the limelight. You'll get it from hanging with me or from your own wonderful skills but Iss, I tell you this from experience, it's much better for you to control it and not have the paps, or others, control it. Don't show weakness luv"

"You're right, I guess..." the room lit up with applause and laughter and Issy let her eyes flitter toward the stage then back to her own centre stage beside her, because he was just that.

Everywhere they had moved tonight felt like they were the middle of the room. "Its just. If it gets out I have to tell Sally... and Julian"

"Well, boo bloody hoo if they blush Isabelle, they're grown-ups. Give them some due, they might not be bothered at all by your literature"

"Literature ... makes it sound like Shakespeare"

"Well it is literature just littered with sex romps and sweet, sweet lovin" John was leaning close, in her ear, his sexy Lennon voice washing over her.

"Shush you...."

John sat back in his seat and looked her all over, picking up a glass of water, thinking "Your hair. It's really messy Isabelle....."

Is it!?! Really?!" Issy looked John in the eye, his face straight and solemn. She went to stand "I better go see if I can fix the damage" John caught her hand.

"Damn I thought you'd just take my word for it and drag me home... to bed... to ruin your hair... some more"

"Johnnnn" Issy grinned. He was a maniac and goon and sex god and loon all rolled into one glorious man.

****

John tapped the cue card on his thigh; he'd written a few lines on it for the speech tonight. The one he was supposed to do in a matter of minutes; and now, as he cast his eye over it one more time, he worried over it's nothingness.

It's empty sentiment.

It's half minute of words.

"Use this...." Issy leaned into him, pressing against his shoulder. The room was dark as a series of pictures of the homeless the charity helped flood the stage, in hope the images made the stalwarts of New York society grab wallets and open cheque books. Issy had placed her hand over his heart. "...and you'll be fine"

She nudged him and he was standing, walking, moving through all the people he seemed to hate for being sticks in the mud and squares.

Now that makes me sound a has been- Squares, a sixties moniker that hippies used to put down old fuddy duddies and politicians, but it was apt. So he smiled and nodded and tipped his invisible cap, as he passed those sticks in the mud, to step on stage.

A spot light shone on him. He hadn't been 'here' in a lifetime it seemed; bright lights and people ogling. His heart raced and the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach pitched and swelled. He looked into the wilderness of faces and tried to find her, his new 'home'. She was smiling at him, proudly looking forward to his speech, she tapped her heart and he began to speak.

A little ditty I wrote, Imagine, had a great line. 'Imagine all the people'....

"Imagine for a moment that you are not in this fancy ballroom. Instead you're outside, not walking to work, or your hairdressers, you live there.

Imagine for a moment that you yourself are homeless.

· You have no shelter

· When it rains, you're wet

· When it's cold, you're freezing

· You have no money

This is what life is like for many Americans each and every day.

Homelessness affects all kinds of people. Can you imagine yourself in this crisis of life? No, I don't suppose I could either but I can see myself helping, even if it is just writing a cheque to help feed or cloth.

People living in poverty are most likely to become homeless... Did you know the average age of a homeless person is mid to late thirties, that's my age, well once it was my age, ha

I can't imagine this but homelessness affects families too. They are among the fastest growing portion of the homeless population. 50% of homeless adults were also homeless as children, that's their entire lives!

It affects veterans, it wasn't their fault they went to war and ended up injured or weren't able to work at Joes Mechanical afterwards- But they pay for it today, by being homeless.

People have the impression that homeless people are sloppy, lazy, and irresponsible. They aren't. But what executive in the room can say they would hire a person with ill fitting clothing and no home address, not one I'm sure.

John paused taking a deep breathe, holding the cue card tightly and unread in his hand. He continued on..

"The homeless epidemic is getting better a minuscule better, with your help tonight, it will be even closer to achieving warm blankets, hot meals and a safe place to sleep for more sufferers.

And finally..."

John took his own cheque book from his back pocket, grabbed a pen, then, leaning casually on the podium, he began scrawling over the blank cheque .... He looked up when he had finished, smiling a small smile.

"Finally, by donating tonight and annually you are helping the homeless. You are helping your fellow countryman or woman to stand tall again.

Thank-you and thanks for listening folks"

The house lights went up and the place erupted. All in attendance standing as one, applauding John's speech, he grimaced and smiled at the attention and his hands moved making that 'settle down' motion people did when the applause became too much. Trying to down play the ruckus as he moved back to Isabelles side.

"Oh, my goodness, that was beautiful!" Issy grabbed him in a bear hug and he sank into her, the tension and threatening tide of panic leaving him as soon as he touched her.

***

"You were magnificent" Issy entwined their hands as the car drove away from where the function had been held.

It was late, the streets wide and sparse, lights blazing as only New York lights can. She spotted the next set of traffic lights and they carried her back to another night, another time.

A time before she knew John, before she knew how to be anything but a useless wife and mother.

Nights where she had to smile fakely and hold another's hand; and make it all look real.

Where she had to pretend because, if she didn't, he would make her wish she had never been born when they got home...

Home- It was only home because Sally had been there, other than that it was four walls, restrictions and oppression.

She didn't have to pretend anymore.

She was fractured and fixed, in some ways, equally.

Fractured with memories making her worry, like with Loriele and Sally and her writing... then fixed when she stood up and put John in his place.

And he doesn't hurt me...

John lay his head on her shoulder and she absentmindedly stroked his hair. She had to learn this, it wasn't always automatic. She had to make a conscious decision to touch him at first, oh and when she did he opened to her, heart and soul, and made her feel so good, so cared for.

She was getting better at it, more fluid in the motions. John didn't notice she hoped, because her novels had helped her along the way too. Before John Lennon came into her life the novels allowed her to imagine the feelings and tightness of togetherness.

She hardly ever held the vanity edge and gazed into the mirror now; to keep up, to keep up with him.

And of course, John had helped her, with his own special brand of bravado and in your face emotions. He was strong for her, taught her, schooled her to open up even if he didn't actually realise he did.

She knew though... She saw how he pressed her buttons and tinkered with her thoughts, opening her eyes, turning her on, to all this~ togetherness and acceptance.

"Will you hold my hand when I tell Sally"

"Of course"

"Will you squeeze my hand when I shake with nerves"

"Always"

The Dakota loomed in the near distance and Issy stared at the shadowed surfaces that faced her way. The soft glow of city lights touching a few spots, golden. The outside of the building was rough and ready looking, strong, dominating in its space.

But inside..... inside it was nice and safe, like home.

A/N: speech adapted from  http://www.123helpme.com/preview.asp?id=69975