Can't Buy Me Love [BRIAN&BEATLES]

[nobie]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: dddddd; border: #cccccc solid 8px; width: 420px; padding: 15 5 15 5px;] THEY'RE TRYING HARD TO PUT ME IN MY PLACE The Words: 502 The Outfit: Not important The Notes: LOL self claimed King of the Beatle's flat. ALL HAIL. Emmy’s scolding stopped his hand mid air from another hit to George. Quickly thumping back to his side like an obedient dog. Now that was a new one. He could blow off everything Brian or those with the higher authorities, but when it came to a little eight year old girl, he was as eager to please as a child himself. Catching her hard stare and turning his face away to pout in peace. The second oldest Beatle chuckled and crossed his arms at Paul’s comment upon buying a new doll. Sure. That was going to happen. But he continued laughing as he listened to Emmy’s excitements regarding Ringo’s drums. He was nodding right along with Paul’s claims of having met the rare “grump Eppy” species. ”Name It and its yers, Emma.”

[/b] he added, nodding. It wasn’t everyday a kid got to do whatever they wanted, especially not a kid like Emmy. And John was pretty sure even he was mildly excited. Brian almost never let them that much freedom, he had might as well make it worthwhile.

At first, when Paul’s face turned back to John with that same sly look in his eyes, John’s head immediately when to the ideals of a good drink and a few undocumented indulgences that Brian usually kept them away from on work days. But, then there was Emmy, and he knew none of it would be happening anytime soon. In fact, John would probably have been the one to keep them all sober. He may have been a manic, egotistical, careless Beatle, but by heart, kids meant a lot to him.

She was slightly more timid about entering the house than John was expecting. She was a shy thing by nature, he could tell, but this was just sad. He found himself glancing back at George and Emmy as they followed in.

But once in, she was talking about how “beautiful” it was. Which, in John’s book, was a first for describing things like that. He had never really taken the liberty of admiring something like their flat. It brought a small, humored smile to his lips. ”Thank you, I try me best.”[/b] he gave her a wink and grin, taking credit for a place he probably had never stopped to clean up himself since they had landed in London.

His arm came up to rest on Paul’s shoulder, leaning casually into him as he listened to Emmy’s stuttering. She didn’t know what to do? What kid didn’t have ambitions when it came to being home alone? John scoffed, shaking his head. ”Dunno what t’pick? There’s nothin’ we can’t do, Emmy! C’mon!”[/b] with a sympathetic laugh, he studied her carefully, just as she came up to him in a quite gingerly manner to touch the lower of his stomach. Tag?! He could work with that. But when he expected her to move away for him to chase her, instead, she stayed exactly where she was. It took almost all he had to stifle the laughter in his throat. As not to make her feel bad. At least she tried…

He could be proud of her nerves, to say the least. With one last chuckle, he pushed himself from Paul’s side, skipping over to the couch and leaping onto it with one long step. Not caring that by standing on the couch with his boots on, he was likely to get scolded. But none of that crossed his mind.

He clapped his hands together once and looked out at his audience with all knowing eyes. ”Al’ight ye’ good fer nothin’ drab ‘eads, ”[/b] he called out in an echoing voice. ”I, the king of this Flat, declare the fun commence- Ringo!”[/b] John lowered his face in a mock evil glare, an arm extending and an index finger pointing towards the radio. Music was always a start, especially when you were dealing in the affairs of Beatle children.

”Gerogie Porgie-”[/b] he motioned towards the kitchen attachment, beckoning for either some drinks or snacks. What was a good time without food?

Then his eyes drifted back onto Paul. An almost daring look on his face. In one fluid leap, he jumped from the couch and landed beside the younger man, nearly tackling him. Only able to steady himself by hanging on his shoulders when he landed and swaying as he held on.

”Yer it, mater! EMMY RUN FER IT-!”[/b] like a young child, John cackled wildly and darted back for the couch. Jumping onto it and diving over the back side of it. A loud thump and a muffled ‘cor- Oouuch’ came from where he landed, looking around when he finally regained his footing to crouch behind it. Searching to see if Emmy had run as well. ”DON’T LET’M TOUCH YA! HE’S A RABID BEATLE!”[/b] John shrieked, peeking over the couch before ducking his head down and laughing madly. ”YE’LL NEVER CATCH ME ALIVE, PAULIE-”[/b]


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created by ADE! Pb-ified by WILL

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[joj]

[atrb=border, 0, true][atrb=style, line-height:120%;][atrb=style, width:350px; padding:20px; background:#f8f8f8; border-left: 40px solid #E0B1B1;] this is a call to arms to live and love and sleep together. we could flood the streets with love or light or heat whatever   George paused, already anticipating the next blow, when Emmy exclaimed, and lowered his hands slowly. He shot a reproachful look at John and grinned thankfully at Emmy, then got caught up in the way the little girl looked when she was trying to be scolding. He didn’t know exactly how deep the physical abuse aspect of Emmy’s life went, but if less hitting meant that they would be able to keep her around a little bit longer, and keep her a little bit happier, than he was willing to give that up while she was around. Even if it meant that he would have to suck up the fact that the other Beatles would forever say that he was incapable of taking care of himself. He pulled back his hand after the little girl silently declined the offer, tucking it inside of his pocket and walking inside of the flat. It didn’t occur to him to ask her in, the words wre implied in the way they’d begged to be able to keep her for a little while, the way they’d won and had all trooped inside the flat like little kids just back from some menial war. He hesitated when she spoke though, turned around grinning with wide eyes, ready to comment. Of course John beat him to it, but he tried to catch her eye in a quiet thanks. It was strange, the way he felt when she was around. Like everything was okay in that moment because everyone that he had a stray thought about ( or the important ones at least, because the rest were ridiculously random and not worth mentioning ) was within earshot. And she was safe, hanging out with the only four boys that George was certain could be in charge of her safekeeping and not muck it up. He trusted his boys to mae sure that everything ran smoothly for her – because, well... because she was important. And he couldn’t elaborate past that point, not even to himself. She just was, and she was going to be here to stay because George couldn’t conceive a future ( or even a present ) where she wouldn’t be there to make things interesting. And she’d keep them little, he thought fondly. She’d keep them young. He watched her eagerly when they asked her what it was that she wanted to do. It wasn’t an uncommon question, really. And if they’d known exactly what she wanted to spend her time doing everything would be easier. What even did kids do? He tried to recall what he’d spent his time doing when he was younger but could only recall drinking under the bridge and sneaking fags out of strangers purses when he’d run low. And he heard Emmy’s profession but it wasn’t for him to hear, so he pretended that he hadn’t. He was incredibly good at that, he thought, the whole pretending thing. ( but then he also liked to think himself an okay liar ) He watched Emmy’s failed attempt at tag with an air of displacement. This wasn’t how little kids were supposed to act. They were supposed to know the rules to simple games like tag. They were supposed to be full of untapped energy and brilliance. When he looked at the little girl that had stumbled into his life, she just looked timid. Timid and tired and scared of things that he wanted to be able to keep her away from. Even John looked like he was at a loss for words for a moment, and George held back the urge to comment. Say something terrible like ‘poor emmy’. He could already feel the words on his lips, but watched as John took control of the situation. It was for moments like these that he loved him. And he hurried off to get snacks, checking the pantry and fridge for quickly edible things that the five of them could snack on. He found a bag of crisps and carried it out, then fell unceremoniously on his ass when John ran by him, screaming something that sounded like it was trying to be important. He sat there, on top of and around the crisps as he watched the scene unfold before him, laughing so heavily that air was beginning to become an issue. That’s when he realised that now would be a fantastic time to get as far away from paul as he could. “Hurry, Em! He’s gonna get us!” he screamed over his shoulder, throwing himself over the sofa and scrambling around on his knees for a moment before he decided that he was well out of the impact zone. It’d been forever since he’d played tag but now that it was real – that it was happening – he couldn’t think of a better way to spend his night.   Coded by Juliet of RCR, ATF, SP, & Caution.

[RINGO 'RITCHIE' STARR]

» - - - - - - he's as blind as he can be
JUST SEES WHAT HE WANTS TO SEE - - - - - - - - - - «

The four Beatles and a young child in the flat. The question wasn't: what could go wrong? The question was: what could go right? Ringo had the nagging feeling that, no matter what happened here today, when Brian got back, the drummer was going to do all he could do to become the teacher's pet again that he was before meeting Emmy today. Being the newbie of the group wasn't an easy job; he found himself trying to placate Brian and his wishes while at the same time trying to fit in with the other lads.

All of that, however, would happen when it happened. There was no point in worrying or thinking about it now. He was a silent observer as Emmy tried to think her hardest of what they could do today. And then he watched with growing amusement as she tagged John and proclaimed that he was it and then backed away, clearly not sure what was supposed to happen next. Ringo, like John, just managed to stifle a chuckle at her actions.

But Ringo's chuckle would have bordered on being one more of sympathy than anything else. Like Emmy, the drummer hadn't had a real childhood. He couldn't have had a real childhood, being stuck in the hospital most of the time. But, unlike Emmy, Ringo had spent his better days at the hospital looking out his room's window, watching the young girls and boys playing all sorts of games outside. Ringo knew the rudimentary rules of tag, although he could probably count the number of times he had ever participated in it on one hand.

Ringo's eyes drifted to John as the impetus as to what was going to be done next fell onto him. Oh, Brian wasn't going to be happy if any evidence was left behind of John standing on the couch like that. Ringo wasn't sure what to expect from that ever so unpredictable Beatle, and when John called his name, he almost expected to be pounced on the spot before he could move a muscle. But, thankfully, he was told just to turn on the radio. That Ringo could do. He walked over to the machine and turned it on to whatever radio station it happened to be tuned in to at the moment, turning it up to what he believe to be an appropriate volume--not too loud, not too quiet. Coincidentally, the DJ was just introducing "I Want To Hold Your Hand," causing the drummer to crank the volume up a little bit more.

Now came the unpredictable John Lennon as he chose his target and ran wildly to and over the couch. George was soon following suit, leaving a mess of fallen crisps behind. Suddenly, Ringo was feeling very vulnerable being the only one out there with Emmy and the 'it' Paul. "Follow me, Emmy. I'll protect you." He stuck out a hand for her that she had a few precious seconds to grab if she wanted to because Ringo was soon scampering off towards the kitchen, thinking that Paul might rather take his chances with one of the two lads prostrate behind the couch rather than a moving target.

tagged » - - - - - - the beatles, emmy, & brian
enough - - - - - - « words
lyrics » - - - - - - beatles
brooke - - - - - - « credit

[EMMY ELIZABETH SILVIAS]

Emma had stood there in front of John Lennon for a few painfully long moments. Not because she wished to make the game awkward, or because she necessarily wanted attention (let alone pity), but merely because of the fact that she had no idea how to play and therefore did not know the next step. Of course the Beatle boys for the most part did but that didn't mean that Emma would catch on right away. In fact, though she was a quick study with many logical things, other things that most other people took as common sense were completely lost on the poor little girl. This much was grossly evident when the other people in the room began to scatter but she stood completely still: The only one to have not received the message.

John greeted her choice of game with gusto, leaping onto the couch like some sort of super hero. Emmy's wide blue eyes could only gape at him absolutely transfixed by his bold act. Emma, despite her mature mind (at least in some ways), was so easily impressed by things that most people did naturally: Such as John's boldness and childlike quality. It was actually hypnotizing to her as blue eyes followed every movement, every breath, that he made even if the purpose of it was to get her to run the other way to avoid being 'it'.

'Threats' were lost on her, as was John's self declaration which she interpreted solely as fact. "You're a king? A real king?" She mouthed, blue eyes filled with awe. The notion didn't seem so far out of place to her. She actually thought it quite likely that this larger than life man probably was a king of some country that she had never heard of though the other boys seemed to differ in opinion. "I've never met a king before... Almost a president once..." She went on not at all realizing that John probably couldn't even hear her over the commotion, excitement, plus the music underscoring that had recently been added courtesy of her favorite Ringo Starr.

"I know this one!" As the music cued up Emma's eyes widened with excitement and she spun around on her little feet in nearly a complete 360 in order to face Paul. "I know this one!" She yelled loudly, her voice bright and cheery a rarity for her. "I want to hold your hand! I want to hold your hand!" She jumped up and down as though someone had just unveiled a massive birthday cake all for her (if she enjoyed such things that was). "You played this with me! Remember?" Of course what she was referring to had happened very recently so it wasn't like Paul could have forgotten. Even so such simple reasonings were lost on her.

John was still shouting about something and as usual his words caught Emma's interest. Looking toward Harrison she gave him a rather pleased, even proud smile. "He called you Georgie Porgie. I call you that." A statement that was barely heard over the music. Proud indeed, and one of the few times Emma felt that way and was actually allowed to do so. John then caught her by surprise by practically flying off of the couch onto poor Paul. All fun and games of course but Emma naturally misinterpreted. "Don't break him!" The little girl protested, or had she warned him? Only to be distracted by John's loud cackle, eyes wide with either horror or confusion.

Now John had disappeared, bouncing behind the couch and whatnot, so Emma could only look back at Paul with a worried, weak expression. Even if he was this 'it' as he had been referred to, she didn't want to leave him all alone. He was a kind man after all and she had taken a strong liking to him whether he wanted her to or not. "I don't want to leave Mister Paul by himself..." She frowned only to once again have her attention redirected.

George had fallen! Another horror in Emma's eyes and she found her head snapping around to face the youngest Beatle. "Are you alright George? Are you hurt?" She pryed hands nervously clenching at her sides as she studed him from the short distance away. "Mister Paulie! Call Georgie's mom please!" She was very worried for the Beatle and already partially thought of him, more than others currently, as hers. Of course after tonight, and perhaps a few more outings, she would refer to all of them as her ____ on a regular basis. That's just how kids were and Emma, well, she was an odd one.

Then it was just her and dear Ringo left alone on the carpet, very vulnerable for the tagging not that Emmy realized it. However what she *did* realize was Ringo's hand and promise in her line of vision. Well, she had said he would be her future husband, didn't she? Only taking a split second to think she took it and was practically dragged into the safety of the kitchen. She could barely garner any control with her feet on the tiles and therefore nearly slid right into the kitchen table.