A/N: Okay, definitely out of it this week. Mostly because Spring Break's over for me and I'm a bit upset but also because I'm about to finish up (practically destroy it and then start from the ground up again) my own story! I don't know if I'll allow it to be sold but whatever. Big thanks to PurlyandGirly, Macca40 and DoctorLennon007 on WattPad along with rockon1973 on AO3 for reviewing! You guys rock!

The hills were as green as mint leaves and covered in dandelions. How spring could reach this part of Massachusetts and not Boston is beyond me but I’ll just go with it.

The roads were as quiet as going into a library but Ringo’s snoring continued to ruin that. And I’d say the same thing for Paul’s constant questions.

“What are you doing John? Why wouldn’t you let Ringo drive? Are you trying to send us off a cliff or something?” he continued to ask and ask and ask.

Wow, I need to give George a freaking medal later. How he could keep up with the question maker sitting next to him was one of many things beyond me today. How he lived with him was a whole different ballgame.

“Paul, let this be known that if I was going to drive you guys off a cliff, it would only be in the name of James Bond. As you can see, there are no evil British guys in Jaguars so no, I’m not driving you off a cliff,” I answered back. I heard a huff and I prepared myself for another round of questions.

“I’m blindfolded. Remember, you put this scarf on me. So no, I can’t see any evil British dudes. And you still never said why you wouldn’t let Ringo drive,” Paul murmured as he banged his head on the window in a repetitive fashion.

“Seems like you’re getting your workout in today,” I commented. “Anyways, Ringo doesn’t know where we’re going and I do. I see this as payback for not letting me drive for so long.”

“Can payback be in a more civil next time? I feel like I’m in a blender . . . now I know how fruit feel,” George said. Actually he had to yell it because Ringo’s snores started to get so loud that the radio was like a whisper.

“I don’t know, civil isn’t in my vocabulary. Don’t worry Georgie, there’s only a few more miles to go.”

Finally green hills morphed into turned over ground with scattered animals dotting the area. George particularly liked the piggies that were close to the fences that separated land from road. And those pigs were so close I’m pretty sure I could hear one of them ask if we could take it with them.

The road started to go from smooth to bumpy, gravel that felt very uneven jolted the car around. Paul nearly pulled his blindfold up to see what was happening but George slapped his hand away. Ringo snapped awake after the second jump that came from the awful road.

“What’s happening?” Ringo shouted as he pulled his seatbelt on. “Why are we in a dryer and what did we do to deserve it?”

It seemed like he was clinging onto the strip of cloth for dear life, which made me laugh at him until he started to glare.

“We’re going to that . . . place we needed to go to. Y’know the place that Paul can’t see the path to or he’ll suffer,” I shouted back.

“You never told me that I would suffer! John, I don’t want to come here anymore,” Paul whined like a little child. George started to laugh just as much as I did with Ringo. I’m sure if looks could kill, the one Paul was trying to give George would’ve burned the scarf and George’s face.

“It’s too late, Macca! We’re already here!” I told him in a crazed voice. Actually, that’s my normal voice.

Ringo took the seatbelt off and jumped out of the car only to start kissing the ground. George took a much calmer approach and got out of the car to help Paul out.

“Can I take it off now or will I still suffer?” Paul asked and I could tell there was some genuine fear.

“Umm, yeah. I don’t think they’ll hurt you now,” I murmured.

He took the scarf off his face and looked around. For a moment he was quiet but he started to shake his head, muttering words the whole time.

“You’re telling me you wouldn’t let me see the path to a farm?” Paul as he kept his head in his hands, pulling off a pretty good facepaulm.

“John! I said it was safe this time,” a very familiar voice said from the side of the barn.

“Hey, I had to be very careful. You’ve got the little present, right?” I asked as I waited for the person to come out of the shadows.

Finally, Stu came out with a notebook and pen in hand. He looked so out of place in the barn with leather cladding evert part of his body except for his face. That’s where he had his sunglasses were covering up a good part of it.

“Yeah, my uncle went out to the city to sell some stuff so he left me in charge for a while. I think he said the dogs are in the back . . .”

The second Stu said that, Paul’s head looked up from the ground. In fact, he looked really excited.

“You never said you brought friends! I know Ringo but I don’t know these two. Now I seem rude . . . Umm, I’m Stuart. But you can call me Stu,” my friend quickly said.

Paul quickly stepped up and I could tell he was anxious to see the dogs they had. “I’m Paul and this is George. Nice to meet you.”

George and Ringo were doubled over with laughter, but I could tell they knew this working so well. I’m happy this plan went well and we didn’t have to do Plan Z.

My fellow artistic friend led us to the back of the barn where the animals that Paul loved so much were.

Stu’s uncle was actually out to the city to get some new dogs. His old dog died and all he had left were a bunch of pups, which aren’t really good at herding sheep apparently. So he was going to sell all the pups, after he gave “Stu” one.

Good thing that uncle wasn’t going to sell to us because it looked like Paul was just about ready to buy them all. And then he would pay with an arm and a leg, just because he’s too nice.

“I think we should leave these love birds alone. It’s making me sick,” Ringo joked. “Where else can we go?”

“Pretty sure there are some pigs we can see. John will feel right at home there,” Stu joked and I gave him a light jab to the side.

George seemed very happy to be getting away, so we left Paul and the little puppies to themselves.

. . . . . . . . .

I was having a blast. After the guys left to go see some pigs, I snuck out with the little dogs to have a comfortable game of catch.

All of them kept tripping over their own feet and I have to admit that I did myself. So instead of running around and continuing to get grass in my mouth, I just sat on the grass and brought all the dogs to me.

The only problem was that all but one dog didn’t listen. They all scampered off in different directions, yipping with some sort of gloating glee.

“No! Don’t go! I have bacon . . .” The last part was a total lie but that just goes to show how much they wanted to go away. The only dog left looked up at me with big eyes and if the situation wasn’t kind of serious, I would have hugged her so much.

“Looks like we need to round up your friends . . . uhh . . . Martha! Yeah, let’s go get ‘em.”

Martha? Why did I have to pick a name that sounds like a little old lady? I could’ve gone with Sarah or Elisabeth, but no, Martha is much better.

My phone started to buzz in my pocket, distracting me from the adventure I was about to start with Martha. I pulled it out and nearly picked it up when Martha started to growl in a deep, menacing way. If I didn’t see her a few seconds ago, I would’ve thought she was a hunting dog only.

I slowly put the phone back into my pocket and she instantly stopped growling . . . okay? I’d have to see who made her so angry and maybe not go near them ever again just for their safety.

Martha and I started our journey on that note, running around the fields, looking for dogs that looked just like her. The task was made easy when Martha sniffed about the grounds and leading me in the direction she got from the scent.

When we were almost done and my arms practically full with puppies, our secret mission was destroyed. Well it wasn't secret in the first place because I kept yelling and Martha continued to bark. But I didn't want them to know, so secret mission it stays.

"Paul, what are you doing?" John asked. He was covered head to toe in mud and so was Ringo. And as if he was trying to defy logic, George seemed to be dirtier.

"I could've asked you what you did to have that mud all over you but I didn't," I said, trying not to let them know. Martha barked at my side, making them step back a little.

“Okay . . . why are you holding all the pups?” Stuart asked as he flipped through his notebook again. He looked really clean compared to the others, with not even a little smudge of mud.

“Umm, no reason,” I said quickly. This seemed to be a cue for one of the puppies because it quickly came up out of nowhere and tried to stand on my leg.

“Did you lose any of them?”

“No! We’re just playing a good game of hide and seek, but they’re really good at hiding. I found them all though,” I said weakly. I don’t think Stuart bought it even as he was picking up the puppy that was now trying to climb up my leg.

“Alright then . . . how’d you get this one?” Stuart asked, pointing at Martha. At the moment she was chasing after John, who still didn’t put his glasses so he thought Martha was a “small monster”.

“I didn’t. She just stayed by my side the whole time.”

Stuart gave me a weird look but nodded, holding the squirming puppy in his hands a bit closer. Martha came over to my side, apparently bored of freaking John out. John on the other hand was hunched over and panting with Ringo and George laughing at it all. I would have started to laugh with them but one of the puppies started to wriggle around, trying to get out of my grasp.

Not wanting to start that bothering game of hide-n-go-seek again, I walked to the barn with the others at my heels. The second we got inside of it, all of the dogs out of my hands jumped to the ground.

“So, found your favorite one yet?” John asked as he tried to get rid of all the mud on himself.

“Yeah, Martha hasn’t left my side all day,” I told him, kneeling down to scratch behind Martha’s ear.

“Martha? Why not Arrow . . . ?”

“Because she obviously doesn’t have a pointy nose, John,” Ringo muttered as he poked her nose. She made a noise similar to sneezing.

“She’s all yours then,” Stuart said as he set down the puppy he was holding. “Funny though, because she usually isn’t so friendly.”

John glared at her. “I can testify to that! She tried to bite me!”

“Martha only wanted to sniff you but you wouldn’t know that with your vision,” George laughed as he peeled off his muddy hoodie.

“Wait, your giving Martha to me?” I asked, jumping back to the statement before. It still really confused me.

“Yeah, we have too many dogs so why bother—” Stuart nonchalantly murmured but I cut him off with a hug. He was very tense at first but after a few seconds he hugged back.

“Don’t worry about it,” Stu said after answering my unsaid thanks. “I swear if she stayed a day longer, we would’ve given her away anyways.”

I don’t know how that was going to make me feel less grateful, but I smiled as if I understood.

“Can we go now?” Ringo asked like a little kid. “I feel tired and these clothes are rubbing me the wrong way.”

We all laughed, only making Ringo roll his eyes in irritation. Still we went back to the car with John automatically sitting in the driver’s seat. Ringo surprisingly didn’t care and slumped into the passenger’s seat. In seconds he started snoring just as loudly as when we were getting to this barn. Maybe a little louder.

“See you later, Stu!” John called out, yelling over the car and Ringo.

“Just make sure not to lock me out this time!” Stu shouted back but sounded much calmer than John. That obviously isn’t hard.

John snickered lightly and pulled out, driving way too fast for a bumpy road. Martha jumped onto my lap, knocking out whatever breath I just got. She continued to whimper and paw at my stomach, making me scared she’d think of actually start clawing soon.

“Hey, John. Do you think you can slow down a bit?” I asked when I saw that the city lights were coming back too quickly.

“Remember, he doesn’t have civil in his dictionary. So we can just take it as a no,” George grumbled. He pet Martha slowly and I could tell she calmed down some.

“Hey, this is a faster way! We’re practically at your apartment place right now. I don’t know if Eppy will be there yet,” John argued with a laugh.

“How fast are we going?” George and I asked at the same time. That only made John laugh even more, making his already scary driving scarier. He never answered our question and continued to go.

I swear, when I find the policemen that let John get away with this, I’m going to kill them.

Even before the car got to a full stop in front of the apartment building, Martha tried gnawing at my seat belt to get the both of us out. Of course it didn’t work but she seemed to think this was life and death. It probably was and I just didn’t notice.

“The car’s in one piece! Take that, Ringo,” John shouted gleefully. Ringo stopped snoring a while back and we took that as I good sign. That is until John’s driving got worse.

Ringo didn’t move an inch.

John frowned and poked his nose as if that was going to wake him up. Still he wouldn’t budge. Silence took hold of the small car, with even Martha keeping quiet.

Moving slower than I could’ve gone, John leaned his head near Ringo. When he moved away, his whole body was shaking terribly.

“Guys, Ringo’s barely breathing.”

A/N: Pretty sure you guys aren't liking the fact that I keep throwing stuff at you. Well, I'm creating this thing called a plot that I didn't have with the first few chapters . . . so that's all I can say. Review if you aren't mad with me. ;) Maybe I should've said if you are . . .