Contemporary Williamsburg, 1964--

" 'In July 1776',"John read aloud. " 'Britian lost America.  In February 1964, the Beatles took it back.' What do the lot of ya make of that?"

"I guess this means the rumours are true," Ringo stated with a teasing grin. "Johnnie-boy can read."

John frowned while the other three had a laugh at his expense.  He threw down the newspaper and walked outside the hotel room, making sure he slammed the door as he left.

"Was it something I said?" Ringo glanced at Paul and George.  They just shrugged and went about their usual business.

"He's probably just mad because Eppy wouldn't let any birds get snuck in," George chuckled, trying to open a chip bag.

"Well, you don't see the three of us mopping around," Paul commented, tugging on the refrigerator handle. "Did Brian have this thing locked or something?"

"Try moving the latch Paul," Ringo suggested. "Then pull on the handle."

Paul grinned sheepishly and unlatched the refrigerator. "I didn't see the latch there..."

George screamed in frustration as his chip bag tore in two, sending the potatoe chips flying in every direction possible. "This is the THIRD ONE!"

Brian came rushing in, bearing plane tickets. "Alright, this is the itenerary for the next few days.  First we do that tiny, unannounced, concert in Richmond at six tomorrow, then at eight we get on the plane taking us to--- Where's John?"

"You...didn't see him outside?" Ringo asked in shock.

"Would I have asked where he was if he had been?"

"Guess not," Ringo smiled innocently. "Well, it's only four o'clock, he can't be gone too long right?"

about six hours later...

The lock turned on the hotel door.  George, Paul, and Ringo jerked awake and looked at Brian.  He was sitting at the telephone, tapping his foot impatiently.

John bursted into the room with a guy dressed like a patriot.  John had on a black tri-corner hat with a huge lime green plume stuck in it.  Both of them were singing "Yankee Doodle" as loud (and off key) as drunkenly possible.  "Hello boys," John greeted with a half-out-of-it giggle. "This is me good mate Thomas Jefferson.  We met at a place called the Raleigh Tavern.  I helped 'im rally the troops to get those bloody Brits out of America."

"Ummm...John," Paul stated unsurely. "You are a Brit."

"I'm a traitor to the Critish Brown...I mean, British Crown!  King George doesn't stand a chance I tell ya!" John staggered away on his own, only to fall to the floor.  He held up his tri-corner and said, "Long live the Un-tied Stakes of Virginia."

Paul, George, and Ringo shook their heads and sighed.

"Honestly John," Paul scolded. "We can't take you anywhere..."

"Yeah, Johnnie's a sick sad person," George joked.

"Actually, I feel fine," John gave them a cheesy grin. "Mr. President!  When do we gather up again?"

"President?" Thomas asked in surprise. "What do you mean by 'president'?  But, same time, same place."

"Thanks for bringing me back," John yawned.

"You are welcome Mr. Lennon," Thomas removed his hat, bowed, then left.

Brian bolted to his feet and stood over John. "John Winston Lennon, do you have any idea..."

John got up and brushed past Brian, only to plop down across the closest bed. "All of ya should visit the place I just came back from.  It was great.  It was the colonial part of town..."

"What's it like?" Ringo asked curiously.

"I wonder what it would have been like to really be there in 1775...on the verge of the American Revolution..." Then John passed out.

"I think it can wait until morning," Paul whispered, covering John up as he gave a loud snore.

"I guess so," Brian sighed. "I'll be in my room if there's any problems."

The other three decided they should turn in as well.  So, they made George turn out the light, crowded onto the extra bed (because John had completely overtaken the other), and went to sleep.

***

That night, John dreamed of how Williamsburg might have really been in 1775.  Paul dreamed of looking in a mirror.  Ringo dreamed of one day becoming the American Preident Richard Starkey.  And George dreamed of one day being able to get his guitar louder than John's.

Close to 3:00 am, all four of their minds had somehow drifted to imagining what Williamsburg had been like on the brink of the Revolution...they could almost feel themselves slipping backwards into time...

***

John shivered as his mind finally began to wake up because someone was kicking his foot.  Paul must've left the window open.  He could also hear the rain beating on the roof.  Wait a second...we're on the second of four floors...

"Johnnie, wake up," he heard Paul say.

John yawned and opened his eyes.  His eyes started at the sharp point of the bayonet, then went up the musket, up the person's arms, and to the eyes hid behind a pair of round framed glasses.  John quickly recognized the dress as that of the militia members at Colonial Williamsburg.  John glanced over to the others.  They were in a simliar situation.

The one standing over Ringo was the first to speak. "Who are you?  What are you doing here?"

"W-w-w-we were caught in the rain," George quickly lied. "We thought we would stay here until it passed."

"We're just four helpless Englishmen from Liverpool visiting America for the first time," Ringo explained quickly.

"Ah, you all are Tories then?" the one standing over Paul smirked.

"I swear we're not spies," John said, noticing his mates' confusion. "We came to America...to escape the British rule.  We want to 'elp yer cause."

"I honestly don't know if we should trust you and let you go or run you all through," said the one over George.

Let us go, let us go, let us go, John thought hopefully.  He made the mistake of looking iin the eyes of the person standing over him.  A cold chill made his shiver again, but this time the chill was caused by the ice in the militia members' eyes.

The one standing over John narrowed his eyes. "Miss Williams was expecting some friends from England...What are your names?"

"John Lennon," John said quickly. " 'E's Paul McCartney, the one beside him is George Harrison, and the lit'le one is Richard Starkey."

"Miss Williams you say Daniel?" the one over George asked, lifting his bayonet from George's face. "Wait a minute...Lennon...that's the family name on her mother's side isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," the one called Daniel replied.

"That's right," Paul smiled nervously. "And we're guests of ... Miss Williams.  Wonderful hostess she is."

The other three patriots lifted their bayonets and allowed the four of them to stand up.  "I am Daniel Cester, humble servant of Miss Williams," informed the patriot that had been over John. "That's how I recognized you."  He shook a finger in John's face. "She told you to take a servant along with you so you wouldn't get lost.  But no you didn't listen.  She'll have yer hide for this."

"Yeah, that's Johnnie for ya.  Always getting us in trouble and stuff," Paul teased, hitting John playfully.

"Not a joking matter," one of the other patriots said somberly. "Mistress Williams is a mean one, she is.  Cold hearted, killed her own step-mother."

"Why would she do that?"

"No one knows, we know she did it.  We just can't find evidence to hang her," the other patriot said.

"Does she know you guys say this sort of stuff about 'er?" George asked curiously. "You have to take into concideration about her feelings in all these rumours."

John, Paul, and Ringo gave George a slightly confused look.

"What do you know, you're one of those Red Coats," one of the patriots sneered.

"Red Coats...I don't own a..."

"No no no," John objected. "We're...actually, rebels against the British Army...we came to America to get away from the British."

The one called Daniel grinned, "See, typical Williams'.  They come to America and fall in love with it, and want to help free it."

"Well, since they belong at the Williams home, take them there."

"Sure thing," Daniel replied, with a smile.

The band already had the feeling that they were going to get along with this Daniel...He didn't even know them and was willing to get in trouble with his mistress for bringing not one but FOUR British into her home without permission.  During the American Revolution nonetheless, John thought.

They followed Daniel down the streets of Williamsburg, John stared in amazement at places he had only seen in their rebuilt models...he soon discovered that they had gotten the color of the Randolf House wrong...it wasn't white like Colonial Williamsburg had it depicted, it was brick red color.  The Palace...not exactly how Colonial Williamsburg had it either.  They took a left and walked down Palace Street until they reached Duke of Gloucester Street, they passed the Court House where there was a couple of people in the pillary getting rotten eggs thrown at them.  John was sure to make a mental note of where the Raleigh was while they passed...strictly for patriot meetings of course.  Shortly after they passed the Capitol they came to a stop in front of a very nice house.  John thought it resembled the Palace a lot.

All four of their jaws dropped in awe.

"Now this place wasn't at the one in the future," John muttered just loud enough for his band mates to hear.

"I thought you and Jefferson were getting pissed at the tavern the whole time?" Ringo replied.

"No...the tavern in the future doesn't serve alcohol...I just said we met there.  We went to Contemporary Williamsburg to get pissed."

There was a chorus of "oh"s.

"Are you boys coming or not?" Daniel asked, turning to them.

"This is where we're staying?" George asked, with a heavy gulp.

"Of course.  This is the Williams house," Daniel replied.

House? they all thought. They'd hate to see a mansion if this place was just a house...

Noticing their apparently confused expressions, Daniel explained, "All the homes are referred as houses...except the Palace...and they add the name of the family that built it.  Hence, the Williams House. This house was built by Miss Williams' grandfather Cester Williams in 1730, it was finished six months before the birth of Miss Williams' father in 1733...he was born in Leeds.  They came to America to live shortly after."  Daniel led them to the front entrance of the house and inside. "In 1755, Luther Williams traveled to the port of Liverpool and met his intended, Virginia Lennon..."

John's head perked up at the sound of that name...it sounded oddly familiar...

"Later that year they were married and settled in Liverpool," Daniel continued. "Why...I don't know.  In 1756, Kathrine Williams was born.  She was raised by her father since her mother died during childbirth in 1758...In 1769, The Williams' came to America when Luther inherited the house.  Kathrine loved America the instant she stepped off in Jamestown..." Daniel's voice trailed off. "Wait here and I will summon Mistress Williams.  The butler will show you to the parlors."

John nodded.

Daniel disappeared behind a pair of huge oak doors.

The four of them shared a hesitant look then stared around the elaborately decorated waiting area.
 
 

Chapter Two

This fic is an original compostion by Psychadelic Angel.  If you would like to host this fic on your page, please contact me at PaulaMacca@workingclasshero.com before doing so.  If you don't and I find out...my the closet gnomes have mersey on your belongings.