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Title: Mimi's Letter
Pairing: John Lennon / Jane Asher
Previous Chapters: Chapter One and Chapter Two - http://community.livejournal.com/beatlewivesfic/3778.html
Rating: Chapter Three - PG-13 for sexual suggestion; Chapter Four - PG-13 for sexual suggestion; Chapter Five - PG; Chapter Six - PG

Chapter Three

I lay sprawled on my bed, scanning through the newspaper, looking for anything interesting. Nothing was catching my eye and I started humming to myself as Cynthia walked in. She was talking about something but I wasn't listening. The doorbell ringing made me look up at her for the first time since she had entered the room and it was just to make sure she was going to answer it.

I could hear Paul's voice floating to me from the foyer and I perked up, setting my paper aside, hoping and also dreading, the presence of Jane at his side. But she was nowhere to be seen as Paul bounced in, holding out two passes to an exclusive bar and club in downtown London. It was as if he were talking to me through a fish bowl, his voice close but far away at the same time, oddly distorted. I just nodded and affirmed my way through the conversation, unable to drag my mind away from the thought that Jane had turned down the date night opportunity because Paul was inviting me to come. I hated myself in that moment and wished I could see her and speak to her again. Perhaps just to see her smile. If I could ever make her smile again.

"Are you alright, Lennon? I just said that there were top-notch birds at this bar!" Paul said, looking again to make sure Cyn was out of earshot. "Ones who would love to get their hands on a Beatle for the night, whaddya say?"

I just nodded, clapping him on the shoulder. "Jane's not coming with you?"

Paul laughed loud, his eyebrows quirked in shocked confusion. "John! I just said there were going to be-- look, just meet me there at nine, alright? I'll be there at nine."

"Alright," I replied, showing him to the door. "I'll see you then!"

He studied my face for a long moment before shaking his head and making his way to his car.

I didn't care what I wore. I didn't care if I was there on time. I didn't care if I even got in to get a drink. I walked up to the bar's bustling entrance, Paul, George, and Ringo waiting for me, shooting them what I hoped was a convincing smile. It had been two months since I had seen Jane in person, and she had been all I could think about. And even now as I walked among the rich and famous clientele of Paul's new hot spot, I couldn't bring myself to even care. I just felt so guilty, so worthless, so angry at myself for having hurt someone so kind, caring, and beautiful. And on top of all that pile of depressing shit, I could easily add the fact that it made no sense to me that I even cared. What did it matter? Jane Asher? Why should I care?

But I did. And I didn't like it.

Hours went by as I sat at the bar fiddling with the same nearly-full glass of Scotch and Coke. I heard drunken laughter in my ear as Paul's voice sloshed into my consciousness. He had scored a bird in the back bathroom from what I could understand and was looking at another two on the dance floor. I told him I wasn't interested and he just laughed and laughed, having not heard me and completely drunk off his rocker. I sighed and shook my head, debating on just shoving his drunk ass hard enough to put him on the floor. But I held it in and stared over the bar, not even looking at him as he talked. It was when he leaned against my shoulder, hard, unable to keep himself on his feet, that I took real notice of him.

"Paul? Paulie, you alright?" I asked, giving him a little shake.

He mumbled incoherently, swaying on his feet as I grabbed him to hold him in an upright position.

"Wanna go home?" I asked him to which he just burped loudly in my face. What an asshole. "Let's go, I'll get ya home, ya sod'n bastard."

Chapter Four

I rang the doorbell, unable to locate Paul's keys about his person as I also tried to hold him on his feet.

"Who is it?" I heard her soft voice call. It sounded damaged, hollow. I could sense the sadness in it even though she was not that loud.

"John! I got a present for ya!" I smirked to myself, enjoying my own wit as the door slowly peeled open.

Her eyes were red and she sniffed, but held her chin high as if daring me to make an assumption.

"Lose this?" I asked, giving the incoherent, snoring Paul a hearty shake.

She sighed, obviously fighting to hold it all together as I pushed past her into the house, dragging Paul to the couch, tossing him lightly onto it. He immediately passed out cold, snoring in his deep oblivious sleep. I turned, swiping my hands on my jeans and met the saddest and most empty pair of eyes I had ever seen.

"Thank you for bringing him home safe."

"You're welcome." A part of me wanted to use the few jokes that had popped into my head regarding the whole situation. A part of me wanted to clean off the lipstick smear on Paul's neck and shirt collar so she wouldn't see it, but I knew she already had as she fought so hard to fight back tears.

"I'll just be going then--"

"You want some tea?"

We had both spoken unanimously and neither of us repeated what we had said. We just stared. She knew what I was thinking and I felt responsible for what she was feeling.


She just nodded and led the way to the kitchen, where a sinkful of dishes and sudsy hot water had been the distraction from the crying she had to have been doing only seconds before I rang at the door. She set up a pot for boiling water and then went back to her task of scrubbing at a particularly stubborn skillet.

I just watched her, her body jerking left and right from the scrubbing motions, her dress shaking around her calves and thighs. I wanted nothing more than to place soft kisses along her shoulders and whisper that everything would be alright. I still couldn't figure out why her being upset bothered me so much. Had it been Cyn crying over our kitchen sink I would have walked out of the room and gone upstairs to listen to some records or play guitar, letting her handle it herself away from me. But I couldn't walk away from Jane. The tea kettle started its high-pitched whistle and Jane swiped her hands into a dish towel before taking the kettle from the stove top and bringing it to the counter, pouring the hot water into two tea cups. Into the cabinet, her silky soft hands fluttered, pulling out two tea bags, dropping one in each cup. The clang of a spoon in my cup and then into my hands it went.

"Thank you," I said, not even sure if I had actually said it or just thought it. She nodded in response, so there was the possibility that I hadn't said it. I stirred the tea, blowing air over the surface to cool it a bit before taking a tentative scalding sip. I hissed air through my teeth, blowing at the tea for it was too hot to drink. I took a slow step closer to Jane, close enough to see that the skillet she had resumed scrubbing was absolutely spotless and clean. She turned on the water to rinse the skillet, dragging its clean and shining surfaces under the stream of water. Over and over back and forth, just letting unnecessary water flow over her over-washed cookware. I swallowed and set my tea cup back on the counter, my trembling fingers brushing her right shoulder as my voice finally started to work.

"Jane, I--"

She suddenly spun around in a whirlwind of red velvet hair and swirling blue dress skirts. She grabbed fistfuls of my shirt, sobbing relentlessly into my chest, but hardly making a sound. The tears leaking through the fabric of my shirt were hot and I imagined acid falling onto my skin. I froze, unsure of what to do. Slowly, my arms came to life and wound around her, gently patting her hair, stroking the long smooth strands. I had never comforted a crying woman before. My stomach turned as the smell of her hair hit me like a semi truck at full speed, ramming up my nostrils and hitting my brain, taking a fast bullet train straight to my lower belly, causing a hot tingle to flash across my groin and I coughed uncomfortably.

My face fell into her hair and I breathed her in, enjoying every sensation of her. Her smell, her warmth, her presence, all wrapped up in a trembling package I yearned to devour. Guilt shot through me, piercing like lightning along the lightning rod. How could I think like that with a woman in desperate tears clinging to me? I took a small step back, mumbling something, anything, to get me a few inches from her intoxicating body.

But she yanked me back against her with a desperate sound in her throat.

"Please, just-- just hold me," she spoke so softly, her voice cracking. "Please."

I didn't say anything, but swallowed nervously, taking her back in my arms, my heart thudding erratically in my chest, wishing I was a bigger man and could be what she needed. A rock, an anchor, a tether... however, I could feel myself floating away in the undertow. I needed the anchor. Perhaps we could anchor each other... I didn't consciously press my face into her hair, or take a strand of it and tangle it in my fingers, watching the bright red dance along my fingertips. Her arms suddenly wrapped around me and held me tight. I could be her anchor. I would be her anchor. She needed me and I was going to be there for her.

I lowered my face slightly, my cheek just barely brushing hers. Her hair fell away from her shoulder, exposing her slender and smooth neck, beckoning for me. I licked my lips, closing my eyes, trying to distract myself from her. She leaned her head on my shoulder, fully exposing her neck to me, moving in even closer.

"I'm here for you, Jane," I whispered in her ear, my eyes still closed.

She gave me a squeeze, gently and slowly looking up at me, her eyes wide and wet, but beautiful. "Thank you." Her lips so close to mine. Not fair.

I wanted to run the backs of my fingers along her cheek. But I knew I shouldn't. I wanted to press my lips to hers. But I knew I shouldn't. Instead, I opened my mouth to bring up a joke, something to lighten the mood when a gentle trickling like rain pattered along the tile floor. My brow furrowed and I looked over at the sink. Suddenly, it was as if a dam had broken and water spilled over the edge of the sink, pouring like a waterfall onto the floor. Jane had left the water running without either of us realizing.

"Oh no!" I raced forward, laughing in shock as I grabbed at the dish towel, attempting to stop any more water making its way to the floor.

Jane frantically turned off the sink, her breathing fast as she smiled down at me kneeling in the puddle of water, a dash towel in my hands making a haphazard bowl for some of the water. We stared at each other for what felt like an eternity before she finally laughed lightly, rushing to the bathroom to gather up some extra towels. She helped me put the water I had managed to trap into the draining sink and she wrapped a towel around my shoulders, scrubbing at my hair as if she were Aunt Mimi just pulling my six-year-old self from the bathtub. It made my heart beat fast, having her this close. She was warm even though I was covered in cold water. I was staring at her breasts as they shook and moved jovially underneath her blue dress, wet, inviting, beautiful.

I gently reached up and took the towel ends from her fingers, rubbing at my hair myself, putting a little space between us. I could feel her eyes on me as I rubbed the fuzzy cloth over my arms and torso, I could feel her looking me over. Did she like what she saw? What was she thinking? I would have given anything at that moment to slip into her head and understand her gaze. But it ended too quickly as my eyes turned to meet hers and her eyes flicked away. I sighed softly, keeping the towel tightly around myself.

"Let's go for a walk. Get out of this house for a minute," I suggested, my skin hot, the room becoming too small. Perhaps the world was too small, she was always too close, even when she was across the room.

She smiled, nodding, as if relieved I had thought of something for us to do that didn't involve staring at each other apprehensively in her kitchen. She led me to the backyard garden, meticulously looked after by her mother, beautiful colorful flowers flourishing, smiling and reaching for passersby with their featureless faces.

"Do you enjoy doing the dishes? Housework, things like that... do you enjoy it?" What kind of question was that? Well, it was better than, 'You make me feel hot and cold and child-like and manly and intuitive--'

"Yes, I do. I enjoy the housework sometimes. It takes my mind off of things and I can just... accomplish the tasks I know have to be done. I like it. Do you?"

I smiled. "I don't know what chores I've ever done! Mimi, then Cyn, have always done them. I guess they like doing them... I've never had to. Should I? I'm sure it would just turn to shit!" I laughed softly, scratching at my jean's leg, the towel clinging to my shoulders as dark storm clouds rolled in overhead.

"Do you want another shirt?" she offered, laughing to herself for not offering earlier.

"Nah," I smiled. "Looks like its about to rain anyway..." I looked up at the sky as a crack of thunder rumbled from the not-so-far-away distance.

Jane looked up to the sky, a strange smile on her face. It was serene, beautiful, peaceful. The rain fell. Pouring, soaking through to the skin instantly. I gasped, trudging up to the doorstep, rubbing at my arms, turning back to see where Jane was. She was standing in the same spot, laughing, her hands above her head as she turned in circles, her dress drenched and clinging to her body as she spun and danced in the muddy grass of the garden.

"Jane!" I cried out, wondering what on Earth she was doing. Could she hear me? The rain was so loud, but then again, that could have been my heartbeat in my ears, pounding like African drums, loud and relentless.

I raced back out to her, the towel futilely over my head, stretching it over her head as well. "Jane? Its pouring, come on inside!"

She stopped, bringing her arms to her sides, her back barely brushing my chest as she seemed to collect her thoughts, her arms wounding around her midsection. She sighed. She turned. It was in slow motion, my world stopped. She stared into my eyes, then smiled. My world brightened. Her fingers touched my cheek, bringing my skin to life as she brought her sweet soft perfect lips to mine in a crushing harsh, demanding kiss. The towel flopped to the muddy ground with a squelch as my instincts kicked in and I grabbed her face in my hands, returning the kiss, moaning, yearning for all of her, it was magical, it was perfection, it was beyond description as fireworks exploded in my veins, splintering out over my skin.

After an eternity of bliss, the kiss broke and our foreheads were pressed together, our breath mingling with the raindrops between us.

"John," she whispered, her lips brushing mine.

"Jane," I returned, full of need and desire and something else indescribable as I leaned forward into her lips for more.

She gently backed away, her hands falling to my chest. I just stared at her, biting my lip, my mouth opening and closing with shock and questions. It was so real, so alive, how could she break it? I needed more, didn't she? I had a fleeting fear of never breathing again if my lips never brushed hers. She gently shook her head, her delicate fingertips sliding over the features of my face, then up into my hair, ruffling my hair, water droplets flinging out into the rain, becoming rain again.

I mirrored her movements, tracing her eyebrows, underneath her eyes, her lips, her nose, up into her hair, my fingers tangling in her damp strands. She smiled at me, gently lifting my hands from her hair, lowering them to my sides.

"No," I mouthed, my world crumbling down and melting with the rain. She couldn't do this. No.

She took a breath, lifting her lips to my forehead, pressing a soft kiss there. Then my nose. Then softly and sweetly, my lips. My fingers ran up her arms, gently gripping her upper arms in my fingertips.

"Just hold me," I whispered, needing her, more than I had ever needed anyone before. "Please."

She looked down. Why couldn't she look at me? Was she going to reject me? I couldn't back away. Not now. Not ever. Didn't she feel it, too? Was her heart beating fast like mine? Was her skin so hot even in the cold rain? Was her mind cloudy? This wasn't fair.

"John," she sighed softly. Not a perturbed sigh, not an agitated sigh. Just a soft sigh. Her hands were on my chest, but I could barely feel them. I was shutting down. The walls were coming up. "I'm--"

"Jane? John? What are you two doing, its raining like hell out here!"

I didn't even turn to look at the sound of Paul's voice as Jane took my arm and lead me back to the house. I heard a brief explanation of the two of us taking a walk around the garden and getting caught in the rain. I just nodded. Sure. Whatever she wanted to believe. Whatever helped her sleep at night, I would go along with it.

I took the shirt Paul offered me, putting it on, numb and cold, just wanting to disappear. I sat on the couch and sipped their tea. I nodded as Paul commented that I had been far too quiet and distant lately. I nodded some more when their couch was offered for the night. Paul had a splitting headache. Jane kissed him good night. He left. Jane got me extra sheets and blankets and a pillow. I nodded again. She was gone. I didn't sleep.

Chapter Five

"John? Are you ready to go? John! The car's here! JOHN?"

"God dammit, I'm coming!" I grouched, buttoning up my jacket and going to the door, not even bothering to kiss Cynthia goodbye.

I had come home from Paul's that morning, not saying good-bye to either of them. Walking in a daze, not wanting to breathe. She had given me a taste and just as quickly taken it away. And I hated her for it. Why did she kiss me? Why? Was she just afraid? Just needed a comfort of some sort? I wanted her to want me, that's what I wanted... I wanted her to need me. Because, I needed...

My jaw dropped open. She was standing there, in the doorway, her hair a mess, her eyes red and puffy. Her taxi pulled away from the curb and she opened her mouth to talk, but her body wouldn't adhere to her whims as a sobbing gasp passed her lips and she looked to the ground. I looked where her gaze fell and saw her trembling hand clinging to a bag full of clothing and essentials. Was she planning on staying?

"Paul and I had a fight."

Her voice was so far away.


She nodded, still looking down. "Can I stay here?"

Why did she come to me? She had girlfriends and family. Her and Cyn weren't even close! Paul was living in her family's house, why didn't she kick him out? This didn't make sense.

"I don't know why I'm here."

I swallowed, wondering for an instant if my questions had come out loud. "I don't know why you're here either."

She just nodded, still staring down. I knelt forward, gently taking her bags from her.

"But since you're here, you might as well come on in."

"Thank you."

I lead her to the guest's bedroom, setting her things on the bed. I didn't want to turn around, for fear of what I would or wouldn't see. Sadness in her eyes? Longing? Nothing? Just coldness? I turned, my jaw clenched. Both our mouths opened, but an interruption in the form of Cyn's worried form appeared in the doorway.

"John? I was looking for you because there was a car outside, and I thought it was for you--" her voice faded away as her eyes fell on Jane. "Jane? Is everything alright? Is something wrong? Do you need something?"

"She just needs a place to stay for a bit, Cyn," I replied, moving out of the room, not even looking at Jane.

What did she want? Why was she here? She said she didn't know. Was she afraid of voicing it aloud, or was I just wanting it that badly that I was seeing things that weren't there? She scared me. This uncertainty I always felt around her was unwelcome and I hated every second of it. My walls had closed around me. I was gone, hiding behind my eyes as usual, and I wasn't coming back out for a while. There was a car horn outside.

"I have to go." My eyes flicked to meet hers. She was just staring at me, a single tear flowing down. I just shrugged and turned to leave.

"John, I-" I heard her voice, but I kept moving and didn't stop.

Chapter Six
I heard light laughter coming from the kitchen. I pulled off my jacket and hung it on the hook beside the front door. I followed the soft voices even though all I wanted to do was go to my room and fall asleep. Cynthia and Jane were sharing a bottle of wine between them, but the bottle wasn't even half-empty. They turned as I entered, Cyn with a knowing smile on her face, Jane watching me closely, smiling from the joke they had just shared, but her eyes searching my face. I still didn't meet her eyes.

"Having a nice time, ladies?" I asked, kissing Cyn on the cheek, taking a swig from Cyn's glass.

"Just chatting like ladies do," Cyn answered, getting me my own glass from the cabinet.

I waved it away. "Oh no, I'm going to bed. Long day in the studio."

Cyn shrugged and put the glass away, sitting back at the table. I kissed her again and nodded to Jane, still not meeting her eyes, before casually heading toward the door.

"I think I'm going to bed, too, Cyn. I've had a rough day, you know, and I think I need some rest..."

Cyn, being Cyn, politely agreed that rest would be good for Jane. I imagined them hugging and putting their glasses and wine away. Why was I still standing in the hallway, waiting? She emerged from the kitchen, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she spied me standing there. She came over, standing before me, staring into my face for what felt an eternity.

"I need to talk to you, John," she whispered, nodding toward the guest bedroom.

"Alright," I replied, following her, my head going quiet for once. No thoughts.

She carefully closed the door behind her and turned to look me over, seemingly becoming nervous now that we were alone. We both seemed to hold our breath as Cyn sang to herself in the kitchen. I could hear the water running, as she started doing a sinkful of dishes.

"I'm sorry about yesterday--"

"Jane, I don't think this--"

Both our voices died away as we spoke over each other. We both laughed nervously and I looked to the floor. Her feet came into my vision. I looked up and her eyes sent fire through me. I shivered slightly. It hadn't gone away. I had tried to fight it, but as soon as those eyes met mine and her fingers reached up to brush hair from my face, my whole world was hers again. But she didn't want it. I was sure. And the walls stayed up.

"Don't shut me out, John."

How did she--?

"I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me--" she mumbled to the floor.

I sighed heavily, cutting her off, not wanting to hear her justify her actions and apologize for them. "Yeah, I know--"

"But I want to kiss you again. I--"

Silence. My heart was beating too hard and too fast. My brows furrowed, I backed away. This didn't make sense, but she was still talking. Was I imagining it?

"There was a connection, right?" Her eyes were wet as she lightly clutched at my shirt, staring fearfully into my face. "You felt it, right? I'm not... I'm not crazy, right? Paul and I didn't fight, I just... I just left. You felt it, didn't you? Didn't you?"

I tried to swallow, but couldn't. She moved closer. I moved back, her tears fell.

"Please John, say something."

I just shook my head. This was too big, too scary, too... real. Like nothing before in my life had ever been real, was just a dream. She just looked to the floor and more tears fell as she covered her face with her shaking hands.

"You're all I think about."

Her head jerked up and she sniffed through her tears. "What?"

I swallowed. Didn't she understand this was so much bigger to me than it could possibly be for her? Didn't she see that? I couldn't let her see that. I knew once I got in... there was no getting out. And I had only kissed this woman. Why did she have such an effect on me? It was so terrifying...

"You heard me," I whispered, not looking at her. "But it doesn't matter, Jane. It doesn't."


"Jane... I know you are just having a hard time with Paul right now. I'm seeing more in this than you are, alright?" My tone was biting because I was getting embarrassed. I didn't want her to know that she affected me when I couldn't be more to her than a distraction from her problems... I knew that's all I was to her, I just knew it. She was afraid, she felt alone, she needed to get away from Paul for a bit... nothing more.

"What... what do you mean?" she asked, her voice nervous.

"Never mind, Jane, I need to go to bed. And so do you."

She shook her head. "Tell me, John."

This is not finished, so I apologize for it ending quite abruptly.


( 9 comments — Leave a comment )
Dec. 21st, 2009 06:52 pm (UTC)
OMG, the tension is KILLING me! XD
Don't tell me I'm going to have to wait very long for the next part.
Dec. 23rd, 2009 01:09 am (UTC)
You flatter me too much, darling!!!! It was forever ago i wrote this much.. and I don't RP the pairing anymore so Idk if the inspiration will strike again...

I apologize for teasing you so! But maybe maybe maybe MAYBE I will get around to finishing. Who knows?
Dec. 24th, 2009 05:46 pm (UTC)
Oh my god! XD *quakes with anticipation*
I'm just craving John/Jane at the moment and I'm starting to get the shakes. XDDDD
Dec. 24th, 2009 07:59 pm (UTC)
You into RPing at all?
Dec. 24th, 2009 08:04 pm (UTC)
Yeah :)
Dec. 24th, 2009 08:14 pm (UTC)
Well now... this just became a whole nother animal! :) I played John and an ex-friend of mine played Jane... we had them married with a baby and in their own house and everything! Was brilliant! I'd be open to play either John or Jane if you wanna RP them!

Typically, I RP in AIM, but I also enjoy LJ RP, too! If you wanna AIM RP, my username is johnasherlennon. If you wanna RP on LJ, just let me know and I'll set up a little comm for us to post on!
Dec. 24th, 2009 08:20 pm (UTC)
I just added you if u want to RP now (I hope so 'cuz I'm super bored XD)
Dec. 24th, 2009 08:25 pm (UTC)
I didn't receive your add because I'm at work and can't get on regular AIM... I am using IMO through Google which connects me to my AIM username but it isn't capable of sending me anything like offline IMs or Buddy List requests or anything... Just send me an IM, let's see if that works.
Dec. 24th, 2009 08:20 pm (UTC)
Also, have you seen this: http://community.livejournal.com/beatlewivesfic/1053.html#cutid1

Its a much dirtier John/Jane a wrote a long long time ago...
( 9 comments — Leave a comment )