Because of the work day yesterday, Paul was given a day off.  He insisted on taking me to the doctor.  

"You think I'm mentally ill." I accused.  

"That's not true.  But it's better to be safe than sorry."

"I told you I'm a freak."

"No, you're not."

Yes, I am.  

I didn't want him to do this, spend all of his time and money caring for me.  It wasn't right.  I wouldn't be able to repay him for everything he had.

"Well, Ms. Sullivan, there appears to be nothing wrong that we can detect." The doctor looked through his papers.  Looking back up at me, he added, "This could be caused from childhood trauma, or some type of scarring incident."

I looked at Paul.  He hit the nail right on the head there.  But how would I ever explain that to him?  

The doctor's gaze fixed on Paul, and his eyes narrowed.  "Traumatic things such as...domestic abuse?"

My eyes widened, as did Paul's.  "No, no, sir.  He would never-"

"I would never-"

"I wasn't insinuating that.  It is just that you have bruises on your neck, and that is quite...unusual."

"Doctor, I do not wish to be rude, but if we could have a full diagnosis..." I said, trying to get onto the reason we came here.  

"Ah, yes.  It appears that your mental health is stable, and judging by the tests you seem in perfect physical state also.  I would suggest plenty of rest, and making sure drink the right amount of fluids each day.  A tired mind could be causing these...nightmares."

Paul nodded.  "Thank you, Doctor."  The man got up and went out into the hallway.  I took Paul's arm.  Find his eyes, I whispered, "They were too real to be nightmares."

He swallowed hard, and turned his attention back to the doctor.  

"Sir, if I could see you for a moment.  Miss, if you won't mind staying in the waiting room only for awhile."  I nodded, and left.  

While I sat in the small, dull room, a little girl came down and sat next to me.  She was probably about five or six, with long brown hair that was tied back in a little bow.  Swinging her legs and tapping her fingers, she hummed Love Me Do.  I smiled.  

"You like them?" I asked.  "The Beatles?"

She nodded shyly.  

"They're rather good, aren't they?"

The little girl nodded again.  She looked up at me, her eyes glimmering with questions.

"Are you from America?"

It was my turn to nod.  

"What are you here for?" She almost looked guilty after saying that.  The little girl must have been scolded for asking questions before.  I didn't mind though. 

I felt bad lying, but I forced a small smile.  "Just a stomach bug.  Nothing too bad."

"What's your name?"

"Elle.  What's yours?"

"Marie."  She smiled.  "Your name is pretty."

I felt a slight blush grow on my cheeks.  The little girl's honey-colored eyes smiled along with her.  It reminded me of Paul.  "Oh, I wish I had your name.  It suits you."

Paul came back into the room, looking slightly flustered.  After running a hand through his hair, he said, tiredly, "Are we ready to go, love?"

Marie looked up at him in wonder.  "You didn't tell me you were sweethearts with a Beatle!"  

Blushing, I said, "Paul, this is Marie.  She's a big Beatles fan."  I smiled down at her.  She was only about the height of my waist.  Paul kneeled down next to her, and she smiled like it was the best day of her life.  He was so adorable with kids.  

"She's my sweetheart, but she won't admit it, though.  How old are you, darling?" 

Marie showed her age on her fingers.  She was five.  

"Quite old, now, aren't you?" he smiled at her, "I wish I could stay longer, but Elle's got to take a nap.  Take care, love."  Paul stood up, but the little girl hugged his waist.  

"Awh..." I said.  He bent down awkwardly to hold her, and tried to hide my smile.  

Her mom came back into the waiting room, and Marie let go and ran to her.  "Mommy!  Mommy!  I hugged Paulie!"  

The woman smiled slightly at Paul, obviously recognizing him.  He nodded, took my arm and said, "Let's go home, Elle."

Resting in Paul's bed, I heard him come in and sit down on the bed next to me.  The Beatle had just gotten done practicing his guitar, and he kissed my cheek.  

"Marie's a lovely girl, and so are you," he whispered.  "You're going to be a great mother some day, love."

I frowned in my sleep.  "I'm not sure if I'm ever going to have kids, Paul."

"Why not?" 

"I've got to find the right man.  I'm not making my mom's mistake." I opened my eyes to find Paul looking down at the bedspread.  He looked like he really wanted to say something.  But after a minute, he gave up.

"About what you said yesterday...what is your favorite color?" He mumbled, looking back up at me.  His big brown eyes were sad slightly.  

"Blue.  Like the color of the sky.  What about you?"

"I like blue too.  Like the color of your eyes."

"So, dull and gray?"

"No. Sapphire." He leaned over and kissed my cheek.  "I'm going to get changed.  I'm tired."

Without warning, Paul just stood up and starting pulling off his clothes until he was down to his underwear.  

"Um...Paul?"

"Yes, love?"

"You could have at least given me a warning." I covered my face with my hands and hid under the covers.  "I mean, imagine if I did that."

Paul actually seemed lost in thought for awhile, which completely mortified me.  I snapped her fingers in front of his face to get his attention, and he said, "Sorry, love."  He smiled deviously.  

"You little...." 

Paul's POV

Elle fell asleep in his arms that night, laying her head on his chest and intertwining her legs in his own. For some reason, he kept thinking that Marie was sitting at the foot of the bed, watching them.  But only Marie was Elle's daughter.  

"She's beautiful, isn't she?" Paul whispered, to the invisible little girl.  "No, she's more than that.  But I don't know how to describe it."  Elle fidgeted in her sleep, so he whispered even quieter.  

"If you could hear me right now, you'd be so embarrassed.  You hate it when I talk about how you look.  But I was serious when I said I would marry you.  If only you were from this time, or if I was from yours.  If your father wouldn't be so angry.  If I wasn't...who I am.  A Beatle."  He looked down at her, wishing he was brave enough to tell her this when she could hear him.  

"I would do anything to make you happy again, love."

She twisted slightly and mumbled in her sleep.  He couldn't completely tell what she said, but he thought he heard his name.  

The invisible girl was gone.  All he saw was darkness.  He held Elle closer.  

"You're a good girl, Elle.  You'd have beautiful children.  I know you would be good to them.  He...would too."  He choked out.  

"You don't have to make a mistake.  You don't have to find another man.  All you've got to do is look right in front of you."  He rasied his voice, causing Elle to wake up.  He felt a slight blush creep onto his cheeks, even though what he said was exactly what he felt.  

If only she had heard him.  

"Paul," she yawned, "What's wrong?  Is it time to get up already?"  She sat up, her blonde hair a fuzzy mess on her head.  Even in the darkness he could see her bright blue eyes.  Damn, she was beautiful.  

He shook his head.  "No, love.  It's fine.  Go back to sleep."

"What were you saying earlier?" She asked.  

Come on, tell her!  Speak your mind!

He cleared his throat and laid back down.  "Nothing, love.  I just was frightened, is all."

"Alright." Elle almost sounded disappointed.  "Goodnight, Paul."  She kissed his cheek, soft and sweet, and then laid back down, resting her head on his shoulder.  His heart was racing; why had he lied?

"Goodnight, Elle."

I love you.