A/N: Well well well, hello there everyone! Yes, this is my sequel! Yay! Funny, I said that it would be a while until I write my sequel. I was thinking months, shit, I thought it might never come out. But here I am, sitting in the cottage might I add, writing the sequel. As weird as it sounds, I actually came up with the idea for this while I was swimming at the beach. Sometimes ideas just strike you- in the weirdest places. So I decided to start writing. And let me say that I am so excited to be writing again! I hope that it is as good as its predecessor and I hope that you all like it. Please read and review at the end and give me your thoughts. Well anyway…. Here is chapter one of the sequel.

Disclaimer: All right fine, since this is the first chapter, I will write a proper disclaimer. Ok…. I do not own the Beatles or anything associated with them as well as Across The Universe. I, of course, only own my characters.

Summary: Sequel to In My Life Stuff Happens. Quinn has more adventures with the Beatles- in her time! But there is someone who wants to expose her secret…. and get rid of her.

…

Continuing Story Of Quinn Collins: Chapter One: Here We Go Again:

School was going to be the death of me.

And that was not even an understatement. I looked over to my night table where my little iPod dock/alarm clock was. The numbers in-cased in a light blue glow informed me that it was a little past two in the morning. I groaned and pushed all of my school books off of me, only slightly wincing when they hit the floor with a resounding bang. I was too tired to care and I certainly wasn't going to pick my books up from the floor now. Whoever said college was higher education clearly didn't have to sit down and do their homework for four hours. I was lying in the dark, staring up at the ceiling and willing myself to fall asleep. After a little while, I made a blind reach for my night table drawer and grabbed my iPod and earphones.

"Come on you idiot!" I said to the little music player, pressing the 'on' button. It was an old edition and now it took a little while to open. When it finally did, I went to the Beatles play list and picked a song. I flipped over onto my stomach and closed my eyes.

"Now it's time to say good night. Good night, sleep tight…."

As the music flowed through the purple earphones, I immediately felt myself begin to relax. It was like a strange but nice sea of calm washing over me, like the warm waves of the ocean. But instead of falling asleep right away, my mind began to travel back- right back into the year 1965. I was remembering the time I spent with the Beatles. It had been a few months since my adventure but everything was still so clear in my mind. I remembered hanging out with them and taking care of them when they were stoned- although that wasn't too much worth remembering. And oh- I remembered how it felt like to kiss John Lennon. That was something I knew I would never forget- nor would I ever want to forget it. I mean, hey, what else is better than kissing one of the sexiest musicians ever to live on God's green earth? That's right, nothing.

With a sigh of regret, I remembered the chance that I had to save him from getting killed. And how I failed to do so. Now, I know that it wasn't my fault and that it happened only because it meant to happen but- I still couldn't help feeling a sharp pang of regret and sadness every time I thought about his death or was reminded of it. Although there was nothing worse than having to shoulder the secret of having time-traveled. I mean, I couldn't tell anyone about it and believe me, I was dying too. I had posted my journal onto the fan fiction website as a story and everyone just loved it. They said how cool it would be to have really lived it and all that stuff- but guess what? I did live it! And it really did suck not having anyone to tell.

I sighed again and flipped myself onto my back just as the next song came on. I closed my eyes now, pushing all thoughts from my mind. I needed to sleep now- especially if I wanted to enjoy myself tomorrow. It was Wednesday- my only day off from school, after all. I took a deep breath and released it, letting the beautiful melody of the song wash over me and take me into sleeping land.

"Please don't wake me, no don't shake me, leave me where I am- I'm Only Sleeping…."

…

(John POV)

"Where are we?" George asked. He sounded a bit cautious. He was always scared, that one.

"Ssh!" I heard Paul whisper. He pushed against me and whispered in my ear.

"Where do you suppose she'd be?"

I stopped and turned to look at my three mates. They didn't realize I had stopped so Paul crashed into me, George crashed into him and Ringo crashing into the both of them. Trying not to cry out and make noise, we all fell to the ground, tangled together. Paul had landed half on top of my stomach and Ringo was on top of my legs. I struggled to push them off and stood up. The other three were still sitting on the floor of the small upstairs hallway.

"What say, Johnny?" Ringo asked, looking up at me. I shrugged. I was getting annoyed.

"We gotta fuckin' find her, what do you think?" I snapped. Ringo seemed to back away although he didn't look too surprised. I was always yelling at someone.

Paul stood up and brushed himself off. George followed and pulled Ringo up from the floor. He fell into the wall and knocked a framed picture off the wall to try and keep his balance. I bent down to pick it up and held it up to the light coming through the window from one of the open-door rooms. It was a nice picture a Quinn- probably one of those professional ones they make you take at school. She was wearing some sort of uniform and was half-smiling. I couldn't help but smile myself as I looked at it.

"John!"

I turned to Paul. He was staring at me with his hands on his hips. I put the picture down on the brown table against the wall and started to walk down the hall again. There was a door at the end of the hallway with a small poster on it. As we got closer, I recognized it as a photo of us from our younger years. I shook my head and laughed. This was definitely Quinn's room. I felt the other's come up behind me and look over my shoulder at the picture.

"I guess it is her room," Ringo said, studying the picture. "Gear! Let's go in and wake her up!"

"Right," I agreed and pushed open the door. It was dark inside and we almost fell; twice. There was only a little light coming from the window and from a small night light plugged into the wall.

"Christ!"

"Look at the walls!" I heard George say.

"It's filled with us!" Ringo replied in disbelief.

"Come on," I said, waving them over. I was flattered that I- and the others- plastered her walls. Although, I didn't care to look at pictures of myself so much. I saw Quinn lying in her bed, the blanket half on and half off. A pair of big studio-like earphones were one her head and I could almost hear the music coming from them. I stopped for a few seconds, just watching her sleep. I didn't move until Paul pushed me forward. I guess it was time to wake her up.

….

(Quinn POV)

I was asleep, I knew it. I could faintly hear the music that was coming from my iPod. But I was definitely stone-cold asleep. But somewhere, somehow, I could hear voices- people talking. I didn't wake though- I just figured that they were part of a dream of maybe from the music. I ignored it and continued drifting in a weird but ever relaxing sleep.

"How do we wake her up?"

"Throw a bucket of water on her?"

"Poke her with a stick?"

"Oh very funny! Come on, seriously. We don't want to scare her, do we?"

I thought I felt someone sit on my bed but still, I didn't open my eyes. I was in that weird state of dreaming/hallucinating where you can hear things that are happening around you but they don't register as being real because your mind is elsewhere. I though for a moment that I was hearing those famous Liverpool accents but being as crazy obsessed as I was, I knew it was all part of the dream. So I didn't bother to open my eyes; I still felt quite relaxed.

"Just do it!"

"What if she screams?"

"Then I'll cover her fucking mouth, you idiot!"

"Oh shut-up, John!"

When I felt my earphones being lifted off my ears, my eyes snapped open. I didn't get a chance to say anything because someone clamped their hand right over my mouth and kept it there. The person leaned forward a bit and the light from my window hit their face. I was sure I was dreaming now. This could not be happening. It just couldn't. I saw three other silhouettes over my bed and I can only imagine who they were. I didn't struggle- because it was a dream after all wasn't it?- but I did try and talk. Kind of hard to do when you're practically eating someone's hand.

"Now don't scream," the man with his hand over my mouth said. "Because it would be very loud and we wouldn't want that now would we?"

I'm not an idiot, I said in my head. I wouldn't scream just because I'm dreaming. Fuck- I couldn't even scream in the first place.

"Are you going to scream?"

I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

"Good then. Can I remove my hand?"

You better before I fucking bite it. Instead of saying that, I just nodded.

"All right then," he said. "Here I am, letting go." The man moved his hand and I sat up suddenly. I almost got tangled in my iPod and its wires but I threw it to the ground and reached over to turn on my lamp. When I turned back around and saw the four faces clearly, I almost did scream.

The first man was sitting on my bed, staring up at me with a grin that I had come to know well. He had his arms crossed and was waiting for me to speak. Or possibly scream.

The second man was standing at the end of my bed, both his hands on the baseboard. He was smiling at me but I was too frozen to even smile back. He was waiting patiently for me to say anything.

The third man was standing on the other side of my bed, looking down at me. He had a tentative smile on his face. He was looking real shy and not sure if he wanted to say something or not. To him, I couldn't help but smile a little.

The fourth man was standing next to him. He was looking down at me just the same but he also looked a little scared- almost like he was ready to bolt if necessary. He looked a bit happy to see me but also a little freaked that I might scream.

Oh fuck no.

This just wasn't possible. I mean, it could not be possible. There was almost no possibility that this could be. And yet- here it was. Or rather, here they were. I didn't know whether I should scream with joy or cry with disbelief. Or run and hide in a corner because I had finally cracked and gone insane. All right, so maybe that was a little harsh. I mean, it did happen to me before. But what were the odds of this ever happening to me again?

"Excuse me?" I said to the first man. He was the closest to me.

"Yes?"

"Could you please pinch me?"

"Sure."

He reached over and pinched me on the arm. I let out a little squeal of pain. It had really fucking hurt and I stared at all of them, my eyes darting to each of their faces, back and forth until I finally looked at all of them at once.

"Let me get this straight," I said as I looked at them. As I named each of them, I pointed to them respectively. "John, Paul, George and Ringo."

"Yes," came the reply in unison.

"Lennon, McCartney, Harrison and Starr?"

Again the unified answer, "Yes."

I nodded. "I see. Umm… so- I'm not dreaming. And you guys- the Beatles are in my bedroom? Yes?"

"Yes," John said. He was amused at my disbelief. "What is so hard to believe?"

"Well," I said, trying to push the squeal out of my voice. "You see- this is 2010. Umm… you guys are not- from here. The last time I saw you- it was 1965. What's- wrong with this picture?"

George shrugged and looked more confused than ever. "We just- well, John wanted to come here and see you. We all did. And uhh- well…. We time traveled here."

I felt myself blink like an idiot. "I'm sorry- you did what now?"

"We time traveled here," Paul exclaimed matter-of-factly, like it was an every day occurrence. He waved his hand as if what I was saying was something trivial. I must have had my mouth hanging open because John said,

"Are you trying to catch flies, luv?"

I closed my mouth and glowered at him. He chuckled a bit and then grabbed my stuffed animal hedgehog, Sammy, and proceeded to poke at it. I grabbed it from him and put it next to me. I thought for a moment, looking at all of their faces again. Okay, so they had time traveled here. This wasn't a dream which John had not so nicely proven to me by pinching me. Fine- I had asked him to, but that was not the point. The only way I knew of to time travel is with Knox and the whatever order he was from. So, if that was the only way to travel to time- or was it?- then how in hell did they get here? Well hey, why not ask them?

"How the hell did you get here?" I asked, sitting up more in my bed and leaning against my wooden headboard. I looked into each of their faces, not caring who talked- I just wanted an answer. No one answered at first. "Well?"

"Ask John," Ringo said finally, nodding his head over to John. He still sat at the edge of my bed although now he was starting to look a little sheepish. Maybe even a tiny bit ashamed.

"What's your problem?" I asked him, waiting for his answer with my arms crossed. It was starting to get late- or actually, earlier. I guessed that my calm day off was out.

John looked up at me. There was a smirk on his lips but embarrassment in his eyes. He looked over to the other lads who gave him a nod.

"I was the one who got us here."

…

Half an hour later, we sat over five steaming cups of hot chocolate in my little living room. I had to calm the four of them down after they saw my '58 inch television. It seems that they had never seen a television so big in their time- save for the screens in a movie theatre. Despite the hour, I had to laugh at their bewildered expressions and at John's shrieking/screeching, psychotic laugh. It was enough to send the other three in hysterics and all I could do was sit on my soft brown couch and watch. When they had calmed down enough to sit down, it was nearly ten minutes later. I shook my head at them over my hot chocolate. John had yet to explain the reason why the Beatles were in my time. Not that I minded of course, but that was another story.

"You," I said, pointing to John. He looked at me, frozen with his cup half-way to his mouth. I rolled my eyes and he laughed, putting it back on the table. He was sitting across the table from me, in front of the fireplace. "Come on, now. You said you would tell me. So- tell me."

"John did it," Paul said and John shot him a half-angry glare. Paul cleared his throat and sat back in the easy chair. "Well, it's true, isn't John? Anyway- John was upset when you left. We all were of course but-"

"-John was worse," continued George. He was sitting next to me on the couch. "He didn't want to play or write any more. We didn't know what else to do. So one night, after we came home from a bar, he-"

"-stood on the table and started screaming." Ringo had taken over for George now. He was sitting on the other side of me with his arms crossed. I looked into his beautiful blue eyes as he continued. "We all knew that someone had brought you to our time. So John started screaming. He threatened to quit the Beatles and never make music again. And to go to the papers and tell the story of you coming to our time and all that."

I looked to each of them, lastly my gaze resting on John. He looked more and more embarrassed as more of the story unfolded. I tried to keep a neutral face but inside, I was pretty much screaming like a preppy little school girl. John Lennon thought of me so much that he was willing to quit the Beatles if he didn't get to see me. Maybe he was a bit crazy in his affections but hey, I didn't mind did I? I took a sip from my hot chocolate and nearly burned my tongue. But I ignored the pain and focused my attention on John.

"So then what?" I asked.

John shrugged. "I was screaming like a bloody idiot that's what. And then- he showed up in the living room. Scared us, he did."

Oh, he showed up did he? Would the he in question be the person I was thinking of? Of course he was to blame for this. Although, I wasn't complaining that I could see the Beatles again- this time in the comfort of my own time period. But even I could see past my own happiness to realize that the Beatles didn't belong here. I shook it out of my head for now.

"Let me guess, his name was Knox?" I said in a dry tone.

"Yeah," Paul answered, looking at me over his hot chocolate. He drained his mug and put it back onto the glass-topped coffee table. "And he was a strange bloke too. He had weird scars and those eyes…. I don't know, he was just a strange bloke."

"And he ain't a nice one, either," threw in Ringo and George nodded in agreement.

"So," I said, trying to make sense of it all. "Knox came when drunk John started screaming like a retard-"

"Thanks," John interjected with a sheepish grin. "It wasn't quite like that."

"He came when drunk John was screaming like a retard," I said again, ignoring his last remark. He smirked and sipped at his hot chocolate. "And then what? I mean- he granted your request to take you to the future?" I snapped my fingers. "Just like that?"

Paul shrugged. "In a sense, yes."

"In a sense?" I didn't quite understand. George took over explaining now and I looked at him. He was so quiet, I had to strain a bit just to listen. He could get shy at the weirdest moments.

"He said he would bring us here if helped him with kind of mission," George said in his soft tone of voice. I almost collapsed into my hot chocolate.

Oh. Hell. No.

Not another mission. I had already let Knox drag me through one of those and I was not about to let him drag the Beatles through one. I had to talk to Knox and I had to talk to him soon. I half-slammed my hot chocolate down onto the table and the leftover contents spilled all over the table and even dripped down the side and onto our rich, cream-coloured shag carpet. I didn't care about the carpet at the moment. Like always, there were bigger things at hand. I moved from the couch and stood onto the coffee table. I was getting weird looks from the four but hey- I was weird, right? I wanted to speak to Knox and what better way than to pull a John.

"KNOX! KNOX YOU SON OF A BITCH! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE!"

Nothing happened.

Well, nothing expect four identical stares followed by four identical explosions of laughter. I was not amused. I was damn determined for Knox to get his ass down here. But of course, he didn't come. I had the feeling that he was one of those people who only came on their own terms. Even if I screamed until I was blue in the face, he wouldn't come. Knox would only come on his own terms. I ignored my feeling of disheartenment and stamped my foot like a girly girl. Being my normal klutzy self, I stepped onto my spilt hot chocolate and slipped, falling backwards. Lucky for me, John was quick. He stood, caught me and we both fell backwards onto the chair. I was sitting in his lap.

"Comfortable?"

I didn't need to turn to see his grin. I knew it was there. I pushed myself off of him and stood by the coffee table. If I fell into my crushing on John mode, nothing would ever get done.

"All right," I said, running my hand through my still damp hair. I had washed it hours ago but it was still a bit wet. "We need to figure out where you guys are going to sleep."

John's grin seemed to grow a bit wider. "You're bed looked pretty big."

I suppressed a grin of my own. "Fuck yourself, Lennon." He chuckled but stopped with the gutter mind comments. Not they bothered me but- Okay, stop it, Quinn. So not the time.

"That's a pull out couch," I said and pointed to the couch where George and Ringo sat. They looked at each other and back to me. "Yeah, you guys will be sharing it. I'll go get some sheets and pillows."

"And us?"

"You and John will be sharing the spare bedroom upstairs," I replied to Paul. He nodded. John seemed to be okay with it too. Thank God. I didn't need any Beatles fights right now.

"Won't your parents mind?" George asked suddenly. He looked around suddenly, as if he expected my parents to come into the room and demand what was going on.

"Don't worry," I said and he visibly relaxed. "My parents went on a business trip for two weeks. They won't be back until next Sunday."

"Good."

I turned to John. I did not like the look on his face. He was already thinking of doing some trouble. I wagged my finger at him.

"Whatever you're thinking, John, don't."

"What?" His face was a mask of total innocence.

"Just don't start," I warned and turned to head upstairs. But I felt someone grab my arm and spin my around. John was now looking intently at my pyjama shorts.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," he said, "but does your pants say 'Help' on it? As in our song 'Help'?"

I looked down and immediately felt a little self-conscious. I was wearing my Beatle pyjama shorts. These were the ones that said 'Help' all over them and had some of the lyrics to the songs on them. I had two other pairs- 'All You Need Is Love' and 'Revolution'. They were actually boys pyjama pants that I saw at Wal-Mart and- being the Beatles freak I am- I just needed to have them. I cut them down into shorts and basically wore them all the time. I thought they were pretty cool. My top was nothing special- just a yellow t-shirt with Winnie the Pooh on it.

"Yes," I replied with a nonchalant shake of my head. "Is there something wrong with that?"

John just shrugged. "Nah- it's weird, I guess. Havin' our songs on someone's pants. We just released that one, you know."

I chuckled. "Well it's like over forty years old now." John didn't answer and I motioned for him and Paul to follow me upstairs. To George and Ringo I said, "I will be back with your sheets soon. In the meantime, pull out the couch."

After half an hour, they were all settled in- finally. When I returned to my bed, it was nearly five in the morning. I was so tired and worn out that I fell asleep within minutes. When I asked John and Paul about Knox they told me that all he said was that he would allow them to come visit me if they helped him out with a mission. He didn't tell them what the mission was or even when they had to start this said mission. But it was not my problem- all right, maybe it was but not for right now. Right now, it was time to sleep. Tomorrow was another day. Within minutes, I fell into a deep sleep.

I guess it was another Beatles adventure for Quinn.

…

(Third Person POV)

From the dark, wooded area across the street, he watched the house. He couldn't make out everything but he did them arrive. And he did see her. How she could care about those God forsaken musicians? But it was all right, it was all going to be all right. He was going to do what he was told. He would carry out his orders and in doing so, he would finally be able to climb up in the ranks. One day, he would be the ruler. He was considered to be a good looking boy in the school he attended and well-liked. Although he was shy and kept to himself most of the time. He had only crossed paths with her once and didn't particularly care for her. But he would do what he was told. His cell phone rang on his pocket and he answered it quickly.

"Sir."

"Did you apprehend the situation?"

"Yes sir, I did."

"What is the status?"

"They have arrived. She has settled them into her house. They just went to sleep now, sir."

"Good. You get back now. Soon you start the mission. You know when. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir. I understand completely, sir."

"Good. Now go."

The boy hung up the phone and put it back in his pocket. After one last look at the house, he turned and disappeared into the woods. He would do as he was told and start his ordered mission tomorrow. For now, he would have to lay low. All in good time.

All in good time.

A/N: All righty then. That ended a little vaguely didn't it? What will happen with Quinn and the boys? Is there romance, maybe? And who was that mysterious boy at the end? Don't worry, my friends, all in good time. So anyway- tell me what you thought. And please give me your true opinion- just don't flame too much. Anyways…. I hope you liked it. Review please! -Addie