A/N: Some loving contained within these paragraphs, proceed at your own peril! (from @halfway through)

And as the numbers climbed so did her pulse.

What do you say Issy?

Would he answer the door?

She knew he needed to fix things in himself if she was ever going to entertain any thoughts of more than a few moments with him. But still his heart, or was it hers...

Or maybe it was both their hearts... drew her to him and she was so scared, so absolutely terrified she would fall into a whole lot of shit again. But she didn't turn around, she just couldn't. Her feet, her mind, all pointed towards him.

Issy had promised herself before leaving the lake house she would give away all of the hospital equipment, she only hoped he would do something to mend himself but giving away medical equipment was a lot different to cutting your vices.

The elevator doors slid open and her feet took her down the short passage to the only door it contained.

She tapped three times.

Hovering her hand hesitantly over the door, thinking about knocking once more.

The key sat securely in her pocket.

Did she dare use it if he didn't answer.

Waiting a few more minutes she knocked again, harder this time, with purpose. No response, no sound.

Leaning against the wall she threw her head back hitting the pale painted surface with a slight thud, looking upwards for guidance. If she was in her own environment she would be so very sure of herself, but here.... Here she was a foreigner as if in some far-flung land with a different language and customs.

She turned to the long rectangular window beside her and watched Central Park blindly, it was shroud in darkness with a few lit pathways meandering throughout. Cleo's needle she imagined in her minds eye.

Was he alright, was he angry at her, at himself, would he yell and curse for her to leave, or be asleep with his fist wrapping the neck of a bottle.

Issy knocked once more, harder, certainly more determined this time, desperate for him to fling the door open wide.... So she didn't have to turn the key herself.

Four, three, two, one..

She had counted down from 60 still wishing John would open the door but she gave up and slid the key in the lock.

Walking into a strange home after midnight she felt, in a way, like a burglar. Slipping off her high heels Issy spoke and walked on through the rooms, calling Johns name, asking him to respond.
Perhaps he isn't even even here?

The place was massive and she recalled Julian saying there was another floor of office space, gig and instrument room, and a small home studio! Memorabilia and gold records littering, basically discarded, in one room with no thought to showing them off. Was he even here?

Looking into each room as she passed by Issy saw a disarray of mess. Piles of junk, newspapers, takeaway food cartons, half eaten fruit. She picked up a discarded shirt and hugged it to herself.

How does a superstar become a fallen star?

Was he ok? Is he even here?

A long hallway, lit bright and nakedly bare. Void of photographs unlike previous walls she had passed along her way. Not one stick of furniture nor even any mess, for that matter. This hallway led her away from the once beautiful lounge room.

It was different here, at this juncture.

From tumbling piles of newspaper and dirty clothing Issy guessed he would feel better stripping the details away, making life bland so he never entertained joy.

Should she even be standing right here?

At midnight or was it one or maybe even two A.M; she hadn't slipped her watch on her wrist earlier and, thus far, a wall clock hadn't appeared.

A bathroom heat light blinded her and the overhead fan whirled away but there was no residual heat from the shower, no steam. She called his name as she flicked the fan off and faintly heard a grunt of response from the room opposite.

She waited now. Seconds passing by, hesitant in stepping over that one threshold between before and after.

Before when they were mere, what should, or could, she even call it ~ 'friends'? 'acquaintances'?

Should she go in?

The after was the hardest part to contemplate...

Which direction would they take- crash and burn, never to speak of this encounter again. Behaving awkwardly at reunions over tea (in pots) or slices of birthday cake at family gatherings?

Before she could change her mind Issy stepped over that huge totally imagined cavernous threshold... holding her breath, clutching her dress in a fist by her side, one foot in front of the other. Now or never .... she would go to him and find out if it was all a dreadful embarrassing mistake or if it was the start of a wonderful new story.

"John?"

This room was dark, curtains drawn tight and smelled dank, stale and smoky. A gorgeous guitar gleamed in the light of the hallway, Issy touched the strings and noticed a notepad of scribbles on the floor beside it, the pencil he had used... broken in two a few inches away. Stepping further inside the room, her eyes adjusted to the dim light. She had finally found him. Face down on the bed.

"John"

"Hmmm ... go away"

"John, I... I. John. I need to make sure you're alright" Issy sat beside him then quickly decided to lay down. She felt safe in his presence even if he wasn't totally sober. "John"

"Go fuck Mark" His voice gravelly low, made Issy's heart bleed "Fuck off"

That man was back. The one that was spitting nasty at the studio the night Issy sang. She hated that man but her heart melted for the man she had gotten to know.

Her mind raced through her thoughts, gathering speed to get to one conclusion.

"I don't want to ....." Issy let a hidden tear slip and turned on her side, a hand placed on his back.

"You don't want to fuck him, or leave?"

"Both" She whispered wrapping herself tight against his spine, hugging close, letting her hands roam carefully to find something real. Something to grasp on to in the storm. She found his chest then ran hands lightly over his front then down to finally hug his waist.

"I'm a train wreck" John grumbled into the pillow, then he turned in her arms and switched the small light on to see her face.

"You see Isabelle, I'm a fuck up, just go back to him. You'll be ok with him. Go away" John pushed her as she struggled to hold onto him. His voice was convincing but, with the light shining bright, it was so plain, so very plain, to see the truth that lay in those eyes he placed upon her.

He thought he had won, John watched her unfold slowly from her position and stand. Her eyes forever holding his own.

He had drunk a little more early when he eventually crawled in the door after leaving Julian's, then, sick of the pain he seemed to inflict on every one and every thing he touched, he went on to consume a hideous amount of coffee instead.

Then showered for an eternity.

He had tossed and turned, after trying to write lyrics that didn't come flowing at all;

And after that useless fifteen minutes of blank staring he ended up snapping the pencil in frustration, he had then finally, fallen into a dreamless sleep.

Then this.

An intruder....

Isabelle.

Mark could take her out to Broadway shows and stroll without care in parks and do stuff that she would like to do.

Going out with John Lennon was akin to having a bad odour, a trail of flies on your tail constantly. Media hounds and fans alike, never taking no for an answer, never leaving you the hell alone.

Isabelle slipped off her coat and tugged her wrap around dress free. She stepped closer, next to the bed, an uncertain smile gracing her face as she gazed down at him; wishing him, with all her might, not to turn her away.

John frowned and as soon as he did so he watched Isabelle crumple to scoop up her dress again.

She was here.

She had been with Mark.

Had she tested Mark then come to test me- compare make and model?
No, not the mermaid, too sweet she was to do that sort of thing.

John smiled just enough for her to momentarily pause in redressing.

Isabelle waited, holding her breathe, the dress clutched in her hand, waiting to see if he would reject her with a quick off the cuff, callous remark. Perhaps words laced with a dose of nasty laughter and scorn. Because really, in all honestly, she wasn't at all young, nor flawlessly beautiful.

The line of scarring along her side was raised and still, after years, an angry warring red.

A reminder she had been through enormous pain ...

No, she definitely was not flawless nor was she model beautiful.

She never had been, never wanted to be, til now, til he entered her life.

Issy wanted acceptance, no she wanted his approval and she was flustered and annoyed at herself in a way. It seemed like suddenly she was a teenage girl with mountains of insecurities wanting the boy to ply her with compliments and love.

John held out a hand, waiting for her to realise his changed intentions.

She was so nervous. Her heart slamming away. A thousand beats a minute it seemed and she hadn't noticed him move to take her hand in his, gently pulling her closer. He tugged once more and Isabelle suddenly found herself kneeling on the edge of his bed; John looking up into her eye's so green and piercing, questioning and worrying all at the same time.

"Issy?" John smiled when she opened her eyes wide, seeing, for the first time. The clouds disappearing. Those eyes of hers cradling his face in her orbs.

"Issy is a gnat" Issy retorted smartly. The clouds had indeed parted and she was here. Ready to dish banter and asides back at him just the way he liked.

"Issy is a fucking stunner, but I do concede, the lovely Isabelle is the one that does it for me" John scrambled up as she let her hair out of the bun she had had it lifted into for her evening out on Broadway.

Releasing the bands and pins, setting them just so on the side-table, her hair was finally free.

Wrapping warm fingers round her neck he brought her lips to his but still, with only thoughts for her, he let her control the speed and he let her press her urgency. He let her show him the way.

"John. I'm a little scared" Issy pulled back watching his features awash with similar want to hers "But I know I want you, this ... tonight. Can I have you tonight?" She wanted to say forever, for always and a day but if tonight was all she got she would try and please him... And one day, maybe someday, she may wake up to an always and forever. "Can I stay?"

What did she do to her lips, they taste like strawberries "Does all of you taste as good as your lips, Mermaid?" John enquired enjoying watching her blush a soft pink hue all over. The heat of the blush finding its way downwards to reach her nipples straining under her bra. To John's delight Isabelle nodded emphatically and let herself fall completely into his embrace.

All the times before it was him leading. He had pushed his lips to hers. He had held her firm to his body in the lakes embrace. He had laid her on the kitchen counter and eaten chocolate chips with her while pushing up her shirt. Although, in that instance, she began to open up her body too, her shirt ripping away... It had always been John that led the charge and pushed the envelope of intimacy between them.

Isabelle found her freedom tonight and blessed John with herself.

Nowhere tonight was the sparrow.

Now all he saw were lust filled eyes and she seemed more like an eagle wanting it's prey. Which, luckily for him, it seemed to be him. His body was devoured as she loved him complete.

"Sorry Mermaid" John offered a weak as water excuse and even turned the light off so she wouldn't see his embarassment.

"You know I haven't ..... For a while..... It's been a while and you-god, you... I'm sorry" He had exploded well before he wanted to explode.

"We haven't started yet. I have a lot of work I want to do tonight, John" Issy smiled sweetly, tapping his chest like a typewriter. Issy turned the light back on then lay draped across his chest, her chin on her forearm, watching him intently as he stared with a embarassed frown at the ceiling.

"I hope you're not talking 'bout cleaning nor bloody typing because I would be sorely disappointed if you were" He was back, and cheeky. He grinned at the ceiling then Issy held his chin and made him look at her "You're not, are you Isabelle, you're not cleaning?" He whispered, hope for more in his eyes.

"Cleaning- no" Issy murmured as she straddled him, grabbing his hands putting them on her bum. She moved deliberately, in sensuous titillating motions to awaken him again.

"No- not cleaning John, only loving and fucking"

"Is there a difference?"

"No. But I thought it sounded good saying that word" She giggled.

"I am quite turned on don't worry bout that" John grinned back.

Then swiftly he assisted her into position and they met forcefully, loving the feel of each other's body. John sped forward, rushing his lust for her as she tried to hold him slow. He groaned his needs as he thrust again and again and grasped her backside with his hands squeezing and moulding.

He tried so hard to contain himself, tried so hard to slow down the amazing feelings that were surrounding and attempting to swallow him whole but ultimately....ultimately, lust and need pushed him onwards... to his peak...
To a finish, on par with his first.

Too quick a finish, much too quick a finish, for him.

As he sat on the side of the bed, the darkness and shadows covered his self-imposed shame once again. Issy ran her fingers over his back.

He was pissed, he was not lasting her distance.

And having that name, that John Lennon moniker.. well, it had a legend attached.

John Lennon was no pubescent boy with zits.

John Lennon was renowned for the beds he had laid, the plentiful seed he had sown and the women he had sated.

John Lennon tonight, was not living up to the legend.

Leaning over and clutching his head he shook, unable to stop the emotions running throughout. Issy sat up and hugged him tight, fingers drifting through his hair, down off his shoulder over the front of his body to his chest swirling slowly to his stomach, inching lower, lower ..ever lower...

She couldn't reach and giggled quietly in his ear.

John rolled them over and lay in her arms "You're so lovely, mermaid"

"Again John" Issy reached over, cupping his face kissing him so deep he let her take. Then, with his hands in her mane, he kissed back, their tongues meeting and lips bitten.

"Again luv?"

"Ohhhh Yes please John" Issy was just as drought ridden as he and felt herself wanting as strongly as the first time she had meld her body to his. Knowing what she wanted she turned the light on and touched herself as John watched on "Please John kiss me here and here and here and -"

John dove on her grinning madly and Issy laughed hysterically at his manly desperation. Her touching herself seemed to have delighted his senses and her body was soon ablaze with his lips progression over her. Issy squirmed as his hands held her hips and clenched tight as he caressed her, with fingers and tongue... everywhere.

When she thought her body could take no more John took delight in making her climb and want again and again. He thrust deep and slow, touching her perfectly.

He was taking her with him this time...together they were climbing, lifting, kissing, panting, hissing with pleasure and now, teetering so close to the beauty of the end- sexual gratification.

Tipping over the edge into paradise, his groan of power and pleasure long and sated; finally he thought happily, his rightly timed release and her climax shared the moment.

Issy fell into the pillows as John lay beside her recovering from her lip searching and mouths' pleasures.

Spent now, they embraced, drifting in and out of sleep, talking and kissing.

And each wondering if tomorrow could ever be as good as tonight.