John

So, I got eight blocks of chocolate, that should be enough. I hope she likes dark cause the only other was fruit and nut and that would have been just gross.

I decided to go out to McCartney's just for the fun of it, have a bash on the piano, play some rock n roll, and kick back. Turns out Paul had the same idea, with Linda off shopping he was bored and I'm pretty sure his eye's lit up when I appeared on the horizon to save him from the goats that followed him to the gate of the house-yard.

"John" Paul only has to say one word and I'm back in '58, '59 weird but nice, safe, and before all the hype and hotel rooms. We were just boys- John, Paul and George, Rings bless him joined on the cusp and fell right into place, the last piece of the puzzle. "Cuppa?"

"Nah I bought a bottle" I waved the scotch and he grabbed it walking toward the studio, I grabbed my guitar and jogged after him. He was dishevelled but happy, three-day growth and tatty shirt, too long pants and a jacket that looked like it had been trampled by a herd of cattle. "Hang about, bit of a hurry is ya?"

"No, just Linda's been on my case for the drinks and I thought, you know, have a few then stop 'fore she gets 'ome" Maybe I was bringing bad habits with me here, Paul poured two glasses and handed one over "To old friends and long lives"

"Cheers to that" We sat in reflection, smiling, then thinking quietly, then a random smile appeared again. That's it, enough of that " So, I thought some rock n roll, Chuck, bit of Great Balls of Fire" I banged out the notes on the piano making Paul push me up one end of the stool and he nicked the other, the music loud yet soothing and rocking out at the same time.

"So, how's the little white cottage going?" Paul asked innocently enough but his eyes held and then scooted off toward the guitar case, suddenly so interesting. "Cosy?..."

"How did you know it was white"

Paul gulped then recovered "Well one- aren't all cottages by the sea white and two- Linda booked the bloody thing and told me"

"I, umm, it's been grand. That storm broke windows and let water in though"

"That's no good, do you need to come out and stay here, there's room" Paul's fingers found their way around the piano in front of me Let It Be falling over us, memories flooding.

"Not my place the other cottage, hurt herself the lass, big arse lump of glass in her foot, she's staying at mine at the moment"

The eyes sharpened and he did his best not to seem too interested but Paul was smelling the start of a good tale so he sat a little straighter, lighting a smoke he swirled it and nodded slightly for me to go on.

"The baker"

"Muffins, right?" He confirmed, dragging on the cigarette as I perched one in my lips and worked over the ebony and ivory.

"Hmmm... Clare" I smiled around the fag, we had made music and finally I felt like we could be semi nice for one another.

The difference between Clare and my music, was of course, pretty awesome sex.

Paul's face suddenly tumbled and he was pretty pasty looking "Nice name"

"Yeah, we are pretty friendly... now" I laughed a low rumble in my throat 'She's gear, I was thinking of bringing her out here, but she doesn't know I'm.... well me....." My embarrassment must have reared ugly on my dial as Paul's eyebrows rose. I stuttered "We, yeah, she's pretty awesome"

"John, you're still married, don't hurt the girl"

"Nah she's tough this one, you were right, feisty, puts up with me which is refreshing. Likes me not Lennon, not a Beatle"

"But you haven't arrrr ummm....."

Screwed her? Yea we have....... Yeah was great; last night height of the storm"

"You just said she doesn't know you! How does that work"

"Well it's in the dark" I was feeling a bit guilty by this point, I'd never admit it to Paul though. "She doesn't want me to take the fake beard off, weird hey"

"Oh, mate she might say that but she is waiting for the big reveal and the longer you leave it the more she is going to hurt"

"Why would she be hurt?" I'm stumped she would find out it's me, whoopsy do "I'm me, that's a good thing for sheilas, isn't it? Everyone wants to bang a Beatle"

Paul stood and paced, fucking paced, with some sort of worried look etched across his face. Like he was upset for a girl he didn't even know.

"Sheilas like it 'cause they know John. If you use her.... "Pauls fists clenched by his side but he didn't elaborate why it annoyed him so much, though he was always a soft touch. Maybe Linda had him in touch with his innermost feminine feelings or some such rubbish. "So help me if you hurt her...."

"What the hell Paul" I spat out and stood up, the piano stool tumbling over making him flinch "you don't even know her and you're acting like her overprotective daddy, getting ready to come after me with a bloody big gun. What the actual shit?!"

Paul recovered his composure and backed up "Oh yeah- sorry, it's just with Heather growing up so quickly I worry 'bout her and this sort of thing happening, ya know.... Was projecting onto you I guess, yeah I'll shut up going on about that" He visibly sighed out a release of nervous tension. I have no idea what he's on about, what's Heather ...like nine years old?!

Linda turned up smiling sweetly but I was pretty peeved with Paul's overdone fatherly concern and I left not long after, opening and closing multiple annoying gates to get back to my cottage quickly.

The cottage was silent and vacant, I sauntered along the path, in case she was over at the other cottage, silence met me there too. Surely she hadn't wandered down the cliff to the beach with her foot bandaged up, but it is Clare and Clare does what she wants, when she wants.

*********************

She had a garbage bag on her foot when I eventually found her.

Chanting something to herself as she paddled in the water, one of my button up shirts on and denim shorts peeking out from under the shirt tails as water cascaded all around, the sun caught the droplets sparkling over her body glowing then disappearing time and time again as she kicked and yelped in the cold salt water.

The sea must have been freezing but she was happy, that was all that mattered.

Words caught in my throat, thick with worry. Maybe Paul had a point, she might easily hate my hiding my identity.

The sand made my footsteps silent and mini dunes formed where I tread as I made my way towards the nymph in the blue, reaching damp sand, my steps were recorded for the tide to erase. Nobody's here forever.

"Clare with a garbage bag, what on earth are you doing?" I was no closer than sandcastle making sand, the stuff that clings and sticks and little children love.

She spun around with white teeth and grin sparkling and something else, apprehension? Nerves?... Tugging at her eyes. She almost fell. The look disappeared before reappearing in tiny slivers of emotions across her features again and again and I wasn't entirely sure what I was doing to cause it.

I smiled and took another step and she held a hand up to stop me.

"I have to do something, hang on Cap, I need to feel it again" She was spinning now. Around again and again, eyes meeting mine as they landed for a second and then gone again in the slow spin dance she had going on. Her shirt came off and I must have looked shocked cause she flung it at me to wake me up.

Still spinning.

The shirt at my feet.

My smile made her brave and she hobbled over and kissed my cheek, even with the beard tickling her lips, then returning back to the sea. Ariel the sea maiden, spinning in the waves.

I was smiling broadly now, happy for her joyousness, the aqua bikini top was nice, pale but beautiful against her skin, breasts teetered and taut from the chill, her lip caught in her teeth. And with each slow spin she saw my face and emotions for her.

Slowing to a stop she fumbled then hurriedly unzipped her denim shorts, they fell and she was glorious, the sun catching her hair, the water sparkling icy diamonds. She held her hands to herself for moments before dancing away in the water again.

Perfection is a fallacy, I'm definitely not perfect and millions aren't either, women spend so much money on wanting to become a plastic unreal 'beautiful' when they already are lovely. They just have to shine from the inside with confidence, happiness, joy.

Everything Clare has. And she has bundles of it. Her eyes cloud as I stare, she's close now, although her brow is worried still.

The aqua is nice, not a tiny micro bikini but enough for a man to want to know more, much more. My eyes must have woken because the grin was enormous when I departed from my dream and she was still there.

Spinning off away, frollicking into the cold sea, the waves crashing the shore, the after effects of the horrid storm that swept back off over the ocean again. Her shorts floated by and I caught them, tossing them behind me.

She was like a flame and the moth in me was now knee deep in liquid fucking ice, she went to untie her top...

"Clare" She glanced up, paused with her hand at her neck, eyelashes heavy with salty water "It's too cold love, come here" Her lips, almost purple, turned down and she dropped her hand, somewhat forlornly, away.

I'm lost- why?

"You don't want me to take it off?"

"No. Yes..." I replied softly but she turned away with pain in her eyes and my heart broke "Clare oh I do, yes I do but it's too cold, you'll get sick darling"

She stayed in that half metre of waves facing the ocean "I'm conducting an experiment, I'm nearly done" She reached for the ties again, there was no one for miles and miles, the sand bare of footprints bar ours alone, her top fell away.

My stare was honed sharp. Her body curved, full and gorgeous. Just gorgeous. I floundered over my drool then swiftly closed the gap.

I held her frigid arms close and smiled down at the minx, she was nibbling her lip like it was honey. I kissed her, how could I not.

She moulded against me and we were bound, she surely felt the heated impact she made on my body, I was hungry for her. Hard for her.

She shivered but wasn't going to give up, I retied the top gently and she held my hands still, moments fled, then she looked into me so intimately, searching, searing through all the walls deep inside, so deep I don't think I could escape.

"Cap" She was thinking so much of something right to say. I felt a shudder rattle her bones. I wished the beard gone but kissed and tickled her neck with it anyway "I'm so cold"

I walked her up the sand and found the blanket and hightailed with the mermaid up the cliff to the cottage, a hot shower should do the trick. Leading her in over white and black checkerboard tiles, I turned the water on and stood in the shower. In all my clothes, pulling her in too, as she dropped the blanket.

"Were you happy to see me, cap?"

"Very, very, extremely happy" I kissed her as the soap in my hand washed the salt away. And I massaged her shoulders as she shivered and stared at me. She touched the beard and guilt settled over the room.

"I thought I was still fat Cap, all this while my mind has been tricking me you see." She stared up willing me to see but I was blind. Fat what? The explanation was truly a surprise "I lost a lot of weight like the total of nearly one of you Cap. My mind was telling me I was still big, you see. Seeing you watch me today, your reaction...."

"Oh, Clare you're lovely, inside and out. I would never have known, you should be proud of yourself" So this was the clouds of doubt and worried looks, she was seeing how I would react to her body in the full light of day. I guess we both used the cover of darkness like a cloak. "I could feast on you all day, Clare"

"Really?"

"Ahuh. You're like Monroe or any of those other sirens, truly"

Never before had I had someone pinning so much on my words.

Sure I'd been asked if I loved 'em or if the dress was nice or did she cook a lovely dinner, but this was someone's psyche, her being, her soul. A true word and heartfelt sentiment to help mend a fractured mind. Now wasn't the time to tease or be a nitwit.

And I didn't have to lie. She was, she is, beautiful.

The first kiss was thanks, the next kiss was promise and the third was so much more I moaned as she slid her arms around me. I lifted her out to the tiles and bundled her in towels, the fire was already well alight. She had forethought this girl.

Her foot had gotten wet and I told her off, all the while kissing her neck as we cuddled on the couch. Words were few which was fine, fingers held, kisses sought and every now and then I was blessed with a grin a mile wide, eyes clear and steady.

Tomorrow I'll try and explain the beard. Today, it's all her's.