John’s cats were acting strange. They were being nice and his cats were never nice. John lived alone in a huge house, so he surrounded himself by cats. He had ten of them: Salt, Pepper, Elvis, Almond, Lewis, Churchill, Chuck Purry, Cleopatra, Mirtle, and Mittens. Every single one of them was usually a pain in the butt, but in recent weeks they had started to act differently. For one, they let him pet them. Then they followed him around the house, sat around him, and sniffed at his body. They curled up next to him in bed and pawed at him gently. They were less crazy too, no more pushing things to the ground just to spite him (or whatever cats did that for).He was confused but appreciated it, still slightly shaken by the events in the Americas. Filming started on A Hard Day’s Night and John it impossible to keep on avoiding Paul. He’d also realized that this was not completely fair on the younger man, who’s just gone to his aid like John had probably begged him to. So John swallowed his shame and started to make small conversation with Paul, rejoicing at the surprised but thankful smile he got in return. And that’s how they fared for a few weeks, everything was looking up in their lives. Until John missed his heat. Even with the suppressants, John felt his heat. A low burning in the background, but it was there. But March came and went, and there was no heat. John released his book ‘In His Own Write’ to good reviews and ample public interest, but even as he celebrated he found himself falling into a hole. It was April now, and his heat had never come. His suspicions only worsened when he found himself feeling nauseous out of nowhere, and vomiting after having some of his usually favourite foods. Finally he went out to the pharmacist and purchased three pregnancy tests, forcing out a laugh as the cashier said ‘Congratulations, sir. Bet your wife is happy!’