"Half past six," I grumbled stretching one last time. I slowly eased my head back around and let it sink into the pillow behind it.

"Arise fair Macca the hour has come to leave thy bedchamber and prepare for the banquet of lowly wenches," Ringo exclaimed poking my uncovered stomach.

"Oh no, don't tell me he's goin' on with all those renaissance expressions again, has he?" George complained.

"I'm afraid so," John said in disgust, "but no worries it'll stop the moment the first bird gets in here. Well if he wants to even ATTEMPT to win the bet any way."

"You're actin', pretty sure about winnin' this thing," I examined, "if you ask me he had it fixed. With a lil' help from Mal of coarse."

"John? Fix a bet? Never," George laughed, "besides how could he fix the bet anyway?"

"Oh it's quite elementary my dear Watson," Ringo cleared his throat, "John and Mal partake in a mastermind plot to invite only John fans to the party. John gives Mal a small amount of "gratitude" in exchange for his services. Quite frankly it is so obvious even a child could figure it out."

"Well one thing you missed Sherlock Holmes is that John has an ego the size of the London Zoo," I reminded, "so whose to say that he isn't being his cocky self?"

"Hey! First of all my ego is much bigger than the London Zoo, thank you," John retaliated, "and second of all that's not a bad idea, Ringo I might just have to take Mal up on it. Naw, better not it would take all the sport out of kickin your ass."

"Well now that this mystery is solved I am goin to the loo to fix meself up," I yawned.

"I know I always wash up in the loo," John teased.

"You know what I meant," I shot back, "pervert. I don't have time to finish this argument so we'll need to reschedule. How does noon tomorrow sound?"

"Get in there you bloody wanker?" John said as a whoosh of air passed by my arm from his miscalculated slap.

"I'm goin, I'm goin," I yelled as I walked into the empty bathroom. I instinctively began to lather my face allowing white puff of clouds to cover every inch of my naked skin. When the snow-white beard was in place, I carefully rested the razor edge to the top of my cheekbone. It delicately cascaded down the valley of skin into the drawn in areas around my puffy face. Little rivets formed into red rivers as the stream of blood floated off the mirror. Mirrors can't bleed I pondered touching the reflection in modest confusion.

Instantly my hand grabbed for the torn flesh, but alas it appeared as an optical illusion for no blood oozed out of the nonexistent wound. Perhaps I am still partially asleep and dreamed the blood there, I reasoned as I mechanically continued to make the stubble disappear with the white cotton onto the edge of the sink. I softly caressed the newly shaven skin and looked at the semi-rugged appearance my face had even after the hairs vanished. The aftershave dripped slowly from the half empty bottle to my fingers as I dabbed it lightly against the smooth delicate skin.

I decided that I needed to do something with my hair so I quickly turned on the faucet and tapped my dark blue comb inside the rustling waterfall in front of me. I slowly pulled it through the tangled mane of hair fresh from slumber's domain. I repeated the process as my moist hair began to droop over my eyes finally being the desirable wetness to style

properly. When the masterpiece was complete, I stripped off my wrinkled suit, which seemed to worn and proper for an occasion like this. Vulnerable and naked I slipped on the tight black pants and watched the mirror in anticipation hoping to see perfection glare back at me. I decided on a button down shirt because it would be easiest and most useful

later on that night when the games commenced. I buttoned it to the top but quickly undid the top three finding this much more appealing to the eye and sexy to the female mind. I sprayed on some cologne and danced out the door as casually as possible.

"Lookin sharp," John whistled, "looks like I might have some competition after all. Then again what am I sayin we ALL know yours truly has this cat in the bag."

"Well anyone who has half a brain knows that you only talk a lot of shit and your gonna make an ass out of yourself before you even get close to beatin anyone," George replied, "includin Ringo."

"Hey I'm not that bad," John cried, "no one's that bad. You should think more about what you say, George. One day you're gonna hurt someone's feelings."

"I am stadin right here you know," Ringo pointed out, "incase you didn't notice."

"And I care because..." John smiled, "anyways like I was sayin before everyone knows who the REAL winner is gonna be so I don't know why I let you throw your money away."

"There he goes again off in that dream world of his," I stated matter-of-factly, "I'd hate to be the one who had to wake him up out of it."

"We'll see whose dreamin'," John grinned evilly, "oh yes we will."

"The girls should be arivin' any minute now," Neil huffed as he closed the door and plopped onto the nearest chair.

"You look flushed," Ringo said with concern.

"Great," Neil sighed, "that's a nice way of sayin I look like shit."

"Is there anything I can do to help you relax?" George offered.

"No thanks, I just need a good sittin' spell to get me joints workin' again," Neil explained wearily, "I'll be fine."

"Mal, when I talked to Mr. Muir I forgot to make transportation arrangements, do you think you could do it for me?" I pleaded.

"Oh he called and said that they would find her a ride here and she would come a few minutes early so she could get ready," Mal stiffened, "with the DRESS we are supposed to be providing for this unique occasion."

"Oh," I blushed, "I forgot to ask you to pick up a mod party dress for tonight. I feel like shit about it."

"Don't worry I took the liberty of getting her measurements and buying a suitable frock for the evening," Mal smiled, "which I am sure will be to your liking seeing as it fits your taste."

"So we're gonna meet this hot number Paul's been dazed about the past few days," John laughed in mock excitement, "I can't wait to meet her especially in that dress Mal bought."

"I haven't been dazed about her," I shot back, "I've barely even mentioned her at all so how could I be fixated on her?"

"Simple, you just aren't your charmin, cocky self," Ringo cleared his throat, "and you screamed her name in your sleep. Miss Stevens, Miss Stevens ohh ohh"

"That's enough," I cut him off, "I did no such thing, your makin' it up you pervert. It wasn't even a good lie."

"I can vouch for him," George agreed, "it sounded like you were fuckin a teacher with all the Miss Stevens and what not."

"Ha, that's right and I didn't even think about it," John laughed, "Miss Stevens I've been a bad boy and I deserve a spankin." A female figure pressed against the newly opened door. My jaw hung open as I looked at Ms. Stevens standing there as graceful as ever even though she still had on her uniform. I only hoped that she hadn't heard the lad's comments after all I did want to fuck her tonight. John's eyes were as wide as saucers as she walked into the room and carelessly dropped her purse on the couch with the greatest of ease. Elegant and stunning were the only words that could describe her movements. I suppose everyone was trying to drink her in at once because she shifted uncomfortably as the still room burst into thousands of hurried faked movement.

Her poise still in tact she asked politely, "Where is the gown you've prepared for the evening?"

"You must be mistaken this isn't a formal affair," Mal said awestruck, "it's a rather informal affair really."

"Well then perhaps I was mislead," she looked up directly towards me even though her eyes seemed focused on something behind me, "I would have brought my own clothes had I know it would only be a small get together."

"It's still going to be a large party," George smiled, "although I imagine the prettiest girl has already arrived."

"Well he's polite..." she looked up, "or rather good at disguising the truth. Few men know how to get into a woman's knickers properly and he is better than most."

"Hello allow me to introduce myself," John said sophisticatedly, "my name is John and I am also good at getting into a woman's knickers."

Ringo laughed, "You're off to a great start tonight Johnny."

"Well you could always smell trouble from a mile away," John smirked, "his name is Ringo since he seems to have poor manners when it comes to introductions."

"Speaking of poor manners I don't think I introduced myself," George said meekly, "I'm George and I hope I can get to know you better."

"Well as flattering as it maybe to watch you all grovel at my feet," she mused, "I really must change if I want to be ready for this charade."

"Here's the dress," Neil said flatly the only one not impressed by our beautiful visitor.

"Lovely. I will be changing in the other room," she said staring at the dress with a disgusted look on her face, "I'm afraid this dress doesn't suit my taste to be perfectly honest."

"I was afraid it might be a bit to short," Mal confessed.

"No darling, it's quite the opposite," she explained, "with as much skin as I have covered up the men at this party will consider me a nun." We all laughed simultaneously and took one last look at her before she closed the door quietly leaving the one to my heart open. I watched the door anxiously as I clicked on a pen in fast nervous unrythmic patterns. Miss Stevens was only a few meters away shedding off layers of clothing in what I imagined was an erotic provocative dance. The thought of her totally dressed was more stimulation than a man could handle in a lifetime but the thought of her naked, totally vulnerable to any who tried to seize this heavenly host was worth an eternity in hell if there is such a place. No man could ever put a price on it for there is nothing else with which to compare her. A sigh passed my lips as the pen fell out of my shaking hands.

"Will you stop that infernal racket?" John replied crossly slamming a magazine on the nearby coffee table.

"Sorry," I mumbled apologetically, "I just have somethin on me mind at the moment."

"More like someone," Ringo smiled, "and you aren't the only one. I think George might be goin through the same thing on a much less exaggerated level."

"I think we all are, personally," John admitted, "including those of who care not to admit it. You were definitely right about her havin' a nice set, Macca. She could poke someone's eyes out with those things."

"Yeah, it's too bad you didn't fuck her," George mused, "but I guess that increases my chances so no hard feelings."

"That's a humorous thought," I laughed, "Ms. Stevens and you hot and sweaty after a night of steamy sex in her massive bedroom."

"It could happen," George interjected, "or at least I have better chances of it happenin to me than you do."

"Ooh, looks like we might have a new wager on our hands, boys," John grinned devilishly.

"Will it replace the old one?" I asked curiously glancing up at the door to make sure that it was still closed.

"I guess it could," Ringo agreed, "unless some of us are too scared. But we should vote on it don't you think?"

"I suppose, but lets not make a habit of bein' a democracy cause I enjoy my full unquestionable power," John teased.

"Who votes for us switchin bets," George asked raising his hand high into the air.

"I do," the three of us said in unison and burst into a fit of giggles.

"Why don't we go into the hallway to discuss the terms?" George reminded, "We wouldn't want Ms. Stevens to hear about this."

"Good thinking, George. I knew that head of yours was attached for a reason," I mocked, "it's been a while since you put it to use."

"Well it's been a while since you put your dick to use, "George quipped sticking his tongue out, "oh wait a minute didn't I see you wankin this mournin."

"Cheeky, no I wasn't getting off this mournin," I smirked, "but if we checked someone else's bed I'm sure we could find the real culprit to the crime you speak of."

John gulped exaggeratedly, "Well lads let's forget about this rivalry and move on to the more important issues at hand."

"Yeah we could talk about John wankin all day," Ringo smiled, "although I don't really get off on that sort of thing. We better hurry if we don't want her to get out before we even get to make the boundaries."

"Okay we're goin, we're goin," John and George chorused as I took one last woeful look at the door.

Ringo shut the door behind him as we entered the empty hallway, "How about we raise the stakes of this venture?"

"Speaking of stakes I believe someone owes me two hundred pounds that I would like to invest in this bet," George said holding out his hand, "remember I want it all in one pound notes."

"Yeah, yeah," Ringo muttered, "I only have twenty pound notes so you'll have to make the change yourself."

"I guess it doesn't matter that much cause as soon as I win the bet ya'll are gonna owe me and I can get me ones then," George fantasized.

"You always did go against the odds," John stated matter-of-factly "to bad this long shot bet isn't gonna pay off like you hope."

"I always win big because I know how to bet," George smiled proudly, "if I had to be something else besides a musician I would have been a gambler."

"And unable to support the wife and kids," I laughed, "talk about your all time stable careers. Any fool who has that as there backup career must be pretty sure they won't use it. Or rather naïve? Take your pick."

"I choose neither," George smirked, "could we focus a lil' more? Please? And maybe Ringo would be so kind as to tell us the details of his higher wager."

"Yeah before I was so RUDELY interrupted I was explaining how we needed to up the wager price to let's say... a thousand pounds," Ringo arched his eyebrows.

"Well that is a bit of an increase from four hundred if I do say so myself," John added, "but there's only one problem with that thought."

"What?" Ringo asked confusingly unsure as to why John would disapprove of his full proof scheme.

"Anyone can bet a buck, I think we should bet something else now that the goal is much easier to obtain," John commented.

"A thousand pounds divides evenly between four people," I said casually, "I know if we came up with one of those 'if you loose you have to wear your mother's Sunday frock while mowing the lawn' bets someone is gonna end up with an unequal punishment."

"Not if everyone has to do the same thing," George corrected, "but I still think the money is a better incentive. Unless we make a side wager where we do somethin a bit more extreme like Paulie's scenario with us wearin a Sunday dress."

"All in favor of two separate bets, say I?" John asked.

"I," we laughed in unison as John looked around suspiciously before raising his arm sharply.

"All opposed?" John whipped his head from side to side watching the imaginary tumbleweed pass before his eyes, "Then it's agreed there will be two bets."

"Hey are we allowed to fight dirty or is this gonna be one of those cheesy let's play fair fights?" Ringo interrogated.

"I think we should be able to fight dirty, makes things more exciting," George agreed, "besides we wouldn't want one of those fair bets, would we?"

"No of coarse not," I said sarcastically, "what fun would we get out of that? I mean we might as well not even bother to make the bet at all."

"Precisely," John smiled evilly, "thanks for bringin that important observation to our attention Ringo."

"Well you know its just part of my nature," Ringo laughed egotistically, "I just don't know where you lads would be without me?"

"Well for starters we would have gotten to number one a lot faster," I suggested, "I know they try to listen to our music but it's just so distracting when they get a good look at that honker of yours."

"Yeah thanks for bringin down the sexiness of the group Rich," John yelled snootily throwing his nose into the air.

"I could think of several one liners that would fit that spot nicely too," George pouted as the tension ceased and the ice broke from our semi cruel comments.

"Lads you shouldn't keep your company alone without you," Mal peaked out side the door, "I don't mind entertaining her for a lil' bit, but this is just plain rude now."

"He's right, you know," Ringo looked down at his hands dejectedly, "we best go back in and wait for the other guests to arrive."

"But what about the other side bet?" George reminded with his puppy dog eyes open widely.

"It can wait until later on if this is important," John mused, "I have a feelin we'll have more free time at the party."

"When is the party starting anyways?" I asked as I looked up at the rusted old wall clock hanging in the bedroom.

"Oh guests should be arrivin in the next ten minutes or so," Mal answered leading us towards the couch where Ms. Stevens was sitting. Time stood still for exactly one minute as I looked at the goddess hidden in the perfect red dress that flared out a good three or four inches above her feminine hips. The thin straps could barely hold back the weight of

her breast, which pushed against the fabric leaving a small amount of tension. The neckline itself was round and swooped down low enough for a decent cleavage line for men to steal with their eyes.

Her hair was hidden once again behind a little black hat that accented her soft angelic features. A dab of powder covered the imaginary blemishes (for a creature of this nature with perfect complexion has no need for makeup that doesn't accent their smooth soft skin) and a thick black line followed the curve of her sparkling ice blue eyes and flipped

out perfectly in unison. Her eyes twinkled each time her fluttery lashes danced in the thick hot air that circled her beauty. A natural rosy blush accented her sharp cheekbones, perhaps the most distinguishable attribute on her face besides her cherry red lips that blended with the fabric of the dress.

The thin red heels added a few inches to this strapping beauty making her almost eyelevel to myself. Now that I think about it, she must have been only sixty or so centimeters shorter than I was when she didn't have on the heels. I suppose that's how she had been able to carry me, that day. Why did I consider it "that day" when it had only happened

three days ago? Seems silly if you really think about it but I just couldn't shake the feeling that something important transpired that day.

I wasn't the only one who saw this earth bound angel evolve from a cocoon to a tropical butterfly. Even Neil who had earlier shown Ms. Stevens no interest eyed down the cascading slopes and curves of her luscious body. The moment quickly disappeared like a shooting star in the middle of the night. If only all of time could be comprised of moments such as these, than she would have been solely mine. However, anyone who thought they could take captive this wild creature was the most selfish man alive for the human race must share these beings of perfection.

"What are you all staring at?" Ms. Stevens asked uneasily, "there isn't a big stain on the back that I can't see is there?"

"No there aren't any stains on your dress, love," Ringo insisted, "you just look simply breathtakin in that dress."

"This old frock," she laughed, "no, red never was my color. I never met anyone with blue eyes that could pull it off, personally."

"Speakin strictly as a man NOT trying to get into your knickers I must say you look smashing in red," John smiled, "so I guess you can add yourself to the list of blue eyed birds that look sexy in red."

"Well speaking as someone STRICTLY looking for hundreds of anonymous sex partners I would like to thank you for your compliment," she said sarcastically.

"A bird that can outdo the great Lennon," George laughed, "trust me they come few and far between. Oh I'd be your new best friend in a heartbeat, just say the word."

"John doesn't get what should be comin to him half the time so thank you for restorin equal punishment for the time bein," Mal smiled.

"Oh come on I wasn't THAT mean," she said in a strait tone, "I just merely hurt his ego for the next five to ten minutes, he'll get over it."

"Not easily," George commented, "but he was right about you looking gorgeous in that dress. Maybe it's the neck line he can't keep his eyes off."

"Him and everyone else," she replied cockily, "but I suppose I couldn't blame you all it's not everyday men from England get to see a beautiful French maid."

"You have no idea how much truth to that there is," John plastered a genuine smile, "but it's something I'd rather discuss privately."

"I'm afraid you won't receive that opportunity this evening," she smirked, "but perhaps I can work you sometime next week. How does Friday sound?"

"Cheeky," John teased, "I know you want me more than I want you. I can see it in your eyes we all can, but Fridays good for me so lets make it a date."

"Some people can't understand my French humor," she said seriously, "I don't date and you aren't my type even if I did."

"How can a girl like yourself not date?" George asked in horror, "that should be against the law or somethin."

"I can't believe how seriously you all take me," she burst into a fit of giggles, "I bet you'd believe me if I told you I was a virgin."

"Really," I said mockingly as both John and George glared evilly in my direction, "I hope that I never am so easily lead on by something so obviously meant to be taken sarcastically."

"I must say it's not like them to let their guard down, they can usually see a joke from a mile a way," Mal admitted, "especially in front of a woman like yourself."

"I always seem to leave men speechless," she explained, "nothing new it comes with the package. In fact I would be offended if they weren't"

"Well be prepared to be offended cause I don't see what all the fuss is about personally," Neil argued, "I don't date and even if I did you really aren't my type."

"That's funny," she smiled, "for someone who's not trying to impress me. I think this will be an interesting evening when it's all said and done."