Title: Dark Horse: Chapter Eleven, Heart Jump
Rating: PG-13 [language, drugs, sexual situations]

Summary: Sitara gets an unexpected nighttime visitor. Kanti sneaks out of Donovan's room only to discover Sitara is not alone. Sitara seeks comfort from George after a tense meeting with the Maharishi.





Waking with a start upon realization someone else was in her room, Sitara turned over and reached for a light. A hand covered hers, making her heart jump. A few shallow breaths passed her lips as she tried to figure out who was in the apartment with her. Had it been Kanti, she would have said something by then. Her body would have reacted differently for George.

“Hello?” she muttered softly. “Who’s there?”

“Sita... I didn’t mean to frighten you but...”

“Cyn,” Sitara smiled in relief, “what are you doing here?”

“I... I... can I stay with you?” her voice wavered slightly.

“Of course. Let go of my hand,” she instructed.

The fingers covering hers lifted off, allowing Sitara to reach for the lamp. Rather than click it on, she lifted the blanket, silently beckoning the blond to slip into the bed with her. She smirked slightly as Cyn quickly slipped into the bed with Sitara. Carefully, she wrapped her arms around her friend. A moment later, the other woman’s body trembled with sobs.

“Shhhh,” Sitara shushed her, holding her tightly. “Everything is going to be okay.”

“N-no, it’s not,” she muttered, her face near Sitara’s on the pillow.

“What do you mean, sweetie?”

“John...”

Sitara squeezed her gently, “What did he say to you today?”

“Nothing. He never even speaks to me anymore. He...”

“What, sweetheart?”

She sighed, “He snuck away again tonight. Went to go drink in town.”

With a week of staying at the ashram, Sitara was familiar with everyone’s habits. John snuck away from the compound at night with Magic Alex, drinking in some hidden locale. He seemed to be losing interest in the Maharishi’s teachings, seemed to be anxious for something else. The other Beatles retreated from India prior to Sitara’s return, so her thoughts on them were limited to their few prior interactions. Donovan spent much of his time either playing guitar, secretly smoking away from the Maharishi, or flirting. George seemed the most devout of the group, with hours of meditation and talks with the spiritual leader. The women seemed to float in and out of groups with each other and the men. But that did not particularly explain why Cynthia was so upset. There was more to her statement.

“I know,” Sitara stated. “I saw him leave with Alex.”

Cynthia remained silent for a moment, “I snuck into his room. I mean, it wasn’t really sneaking. I am his wife.”

“Cyn...”

“I found... I found letters.”

“Everyone gets mail here,” Sitara stated awkwardly.

“They were just any kind of letters, Sita,” she explained. “They were love letters”

“John has a lot of fans who I’m sure love him.”

“Not a fan.”

Sitara fell silent.

“He’s going to... he’s going to leave me. And Julian,” she muttered before breaking into sobs again.

Tightening her embrace around the blonde woman, Sitara did not know what to say. She was not close to John at all. In fact, she always felt really defensive around him. His comments towards her were often acidic, not that they actually had a full conversation to each other. Her friendship with Cynthia likely colored her readiness to interact with the man anyways. None of that mattered anyways. All that mattered was he was breaking her friend’s heart.

“If he does,” Sitara stated calmly, “you will always be welcome to stay with me, wherever that may be.”

“I...”

“Shhhh,” she kissed her forehead again, “we’ll make it through whatever comes. I promise you that, Cyn. We’ll figure it out.”

“I’m so glad you came back. I don’t know what I would do without you...”

“Relax. Try and get some sleep. Tomorrow is a new day.”


Waking with arms looped around her, Kanti slowly stretched. A hand drifted to her naked breast, cupping and kneading it. Though her body reacted to the grope, her fingers covered his, plucking them off. He groaned in protest as she pulled away. Rolling her eyes, she slipped out of the bed, stepped over her discarded clothes from the night before, and headed into the bathroom.

Rolling onto his back, Donovan folded his hands behind his head and grinned. He had not expected their sex-filled night at all. If he thought about it, he knew she was just attempting to distract him from Sitara, to give her best mate time alone with his competition. Under normal circumstances, that might have been an affront. However, Donovan overlooked all of that. He might have fancied her friend, but their night full of sex completely distracted him from his intentions.

Unable to help himself, Donovan began to compare the two friends in his mind. Kanti was headstrong whereas Sitara graceful. The older girl took what she wanted; the younger was given what she wanted. Though Kanti pushed for Sitara’s independence, she herself was definitely dependent on her best friend. He wondered what would happen to each without the other.

As that thought crossed his mind, Kanti stepped back into his room, “You should go down to breakfast first. I will slip out unnoticed.”

Ignoring her statement, Donovan asked, “What would you do if Sitara up and ran off with George tonight, forever?”

“She would never do that. He’s married.”

He waved dismissively, “Pretend that is not a detail to worry about. What would you do without Sita?”

Kanti slowly began to get dressed, “I don’t really know. I have never considered that as an option.”

“No? Don’t you have dreams and aspirations too, love?”

“I do not wish for a husband and family if that is what you’re really asking.”

“Not precisely...”

Kanti sat on his bed, pulling her sandals on, “I don’t know. I’m bound to Sita with ties stronger than blood. It’s my duty to see to her health and happiness.”

“But you should ―”

“Enough,” she interrupted. “Hurry up and get dressed. I’m hungry and you’re stalling.”

“But ―”

“Get dressed and get out of here so I can sneak out. Neither of us want your girlfriendto see us leaving this room together.”

He stared at her for a long moment, blinking, “You sure you don’t want to come back to bed for a bit?”

She rolled her eyes, “No. But you can have a morning wank if you want. It won’t bother me.”

Donovan stared at her again. Shaking his head, he threw back the blanket, pivoted out of the bed, and disappeared into the bathroom. He left the door open, just so that Kanti would hear he was not taking her suggestion seriously at all. Quickly dressing a minute later, he glanced sideways at her, hoping she had changed her mind. Kanti remained seated on the edge of his bed, plaiting her hair. Sighing, he shook his head and stepped out of his room.

With the Scottish folksinger finally gone, Kanti moved about his room. She casually made his bed, while searching to make certain no trace of her remained. Though she did not think Donovan had frequent guests, she did not want to leave anything to chance. Finding a broken anklet snagged in the sheets, Kanti wiggled it free and continued her quasi-search of his room.

Turning out the lights, she remained in Donovan’s room for a few more moments, Kanti opened the door and glanced about. Seeing no one near and certainly no one paying any attention to the small hut, she slipped out and closed the door. Stealthily, she headed back to the flat she shared with Sitara.

Once inside the room, she waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Not entirely surprised Sitara was still abed; Kanti approached the heiress’s bed and sat on the edge. As she reached for her friend, she suddenly realized Sitara was not the only one in the bed. Carefully she clicked on a small lamp before turning back to her friend. Her voice caught in her throat, completely not expecting to find Sitara cuddling Cynthia.

Sitara’s eyes fluttered open, emerald green quickly focusing on her friend. Without speaking, Kanti asked about Cynthia’s presence. Giving no response, Sitara carefully disengaged from the blonde woman’s embrace and slipped out of the bed. The two Indian women retreated to the other side of the room.

“She came in last night,” Sitara explained softly. “I couldn’t turn her away.”

“Of course not,” Kanti nodded. “Did the two of you...?”

Her eyes widened, “No, of course not. I just held her while she cried herself to sleep.”

The older woman nodded again, “Of course, of course. Maybe we should wake her for breakfast?”

“Not just yet. Where were you all night?” Sitara whispered.

“That doesn’t matter,” Kanti quickly dismissed the questioning. “We really ought to get her up for breakfast.”

“It can wait. Where were you?”

Before she could find some other way to distract Sitara, Kanti’s response was interrupted by Cynthia waking. Seizing the opportunity, Kanti greeted the other woman and turned to find a change of clothes for everyone present. Questions evaded, the three women headed down for breakfast thirty minutes later. Kanti made certain Cynthia remained between her and Sitara, acting as a buffer but also so she could shower the other woman with attention and affection as well.

As they sat down for breakfast, all three women fell silent ― albeit briefly ― their attentions focusing briefly on different men. At the same time, they returned their attention to each other, trying to pass off on the stolen glances towards the end of the table. A few minutes later, Pattie and Jenny joined the three, easing the slight tension in the women’s conversations. It was quickly decided that the women were going to head to one of the nearby villages for shopping after the morning lecture. At least the day now had a viable distraction away from conversations about the night before.



While the visiting women prepared to leave the compound for the day, Sitara frowned as she was summoned to the Maharishi’s quarters. Not entirely sure why, she followed the young man to the guru’s room. She waited at the door while she was announced, her eyes quickly glancing in. Seeing the guru sitting alone on his platform, his legs bent in the lotus position, she found his presence a bit disarming.

Before she could figure out how she was supposed to feel, she was summoned into the room. Approaching the platform, Sitara paused, waiting to be told where to sit. The Maharishi waited until the young man left the room and closed the door before motioning for Sitara to sit next to him. Gathering her skirts, she carefully stepped up and sat down beside him.

His eyes swept over her body. Trying to convince herself he did that with everyone, Sitara looked away uncomfortably. A few long moments later, he reached over and touched her knee. Her eyes snapped to his and her heart started to pound.

“Your father called for the third time this week,” he stated.

“Please don’t make me go back, Guru,” she quickly responded.

He smiled, his hand slipping from her knee to her thigh, “There is no need to worry, my child. I once again informed him that you were not here.”

“Which we both know he did not believe or he would not call again.”

“He could be convinced otherwise,” the Maharishi’s hand caressed further up her leg.

Sitara’s green eyes dropped down to his hand. The soft alarms in her head increased in volume. Her hand dropped down on top of his, gently prying it up from her thigh. Biting her bottom lip, she struggled with what else to do.

Pulling his hand free, the Maharishi touched her chin, turning her face towards his, “You are so beautiful, child.”

Briefly meeting his eyes, she saw the very emotion she hoped she would not. Momentarily frozen like a prey facing a predator, Sitara’s heart thundered in her chest. Her moment of hesitation was enough for the much older man to lift his hand up and cup her breast. Filled with shock, she recoiled from him and stumbled to her feet. The Maharishi instantly laughed his very familiar laugh.

“Iwillcallmyfather,” Sitara quickly mumbled before jumping off the platform and hurrying to the door.

Without pause, she wrenched open the door, not caring that it nearly slammed into the wall behind in the process. Rushing out of the room, Sitara did not care who saw her, though oddly no one lingered near the building to wait on the guru. It was not until she had a few yards between her and the Maharishi that she leaned up against a tree and took a deep breath.

The deep breaths did not calm her. Instead, panic began to build within her soul as her mind replayed what happened. To be completely honest, she was not entirely sure what had happened, only that it should not have. Instincts told her the Maharishi’s actions were wrong, but she had nothing else to base that on. Not wanting to confess to Kanti, as she felt her best friend would likely overreact, Sitara turned towards the meditation huts. She knew one held George, as he had disappeared into one after breakfast. Deciding he could give her a level-headed opinion, she headed towards the stone hives.

Passing by Donovan and John playing, her steps hesitated for a brief moment. As she glanced over the Scottish folksinger, Sitara instantly decided he was not the one to share her short ordeal with. Instead, she kept with her initial destination, not pausing long enough to stop Donovan’s playing, though he did watch her walk away.

As she reached the meditation hives, she did not stop to think over which one George could be in. Instead, she followed her instincts and wound her way up the hill to one of the highest ones. Biting her bottom lip, Sitara circled the stone structure to reach the entrance. Her eyes settled on his meditating form, finding him so very beautiful in the dim light of the dome. She nearly hated to interrupt. But then she felt the Maharishi’s hand on her breast again and her need to speak with George overcame his serenity.

“George,” she whispered, her eyes remaining focused on him.

He twisted towards her but remained seated, “Sita?”

“I hate to interrupt but...”

Sensing something was wrong, George untangled himself and stood up, slowly approaching her, “Sita, what’s wrong?”

As his hands touched hers, his fingers weaving with hers, Sitara hesitated. She knew he idolized the Maharishi; that was the entire reason he was at the ashram in India. She had a feeling if she told him what happened, he would be crushed. However, it felt wrong to keep it from him. Maybe she had just imagined it all. Maybe it had not even happened. Maybe ―

“Sita?” he muttered, his eyes filled with concern.

“I just... missed you,” she responded, stepping into the stone enclosure.

George released her hands as she stepped around him. His gaze remained focused on her as she sat upon his meditation mat. Though he could still feel a weird tension around her, he accepted her statement at face value and sat beside her. He smiled slightly as she adjusted her position and curled into a meditation pose. Quickly leaning over, he kissed her temple before turning back to focus on his meditation.

They remained in meditation for nearly an hour. Without her presence, he found it difficult to let go of thoughts or focus on his mantra. With her presence, the world seemed to fade away until it was just the two of them. He felt as his trance deepened the two of them merged. Never before had he experienced anything similar, not even when meditating with others, even Pattie. In those long minutes, he knew precisely why he had been drawn to India, to Rishikesh. It had not been the Maharishi, but the petite Indian beauty.

He could feel her breath, her body, her soul mingling with his. Where once only emerald green filled his heart and soul, she brought it alive. Everything seemed to be vibrating, glowing, and expanding. His breath and heart rate remained slow and steady, yet George knew every one of his cells matched and danced with hers. It was remarkable and magical.

Eyes fluttering open, George left meditation behind and looked over at Sitara. His eyes swept down the elegant sweep of her nose and zeroed in on her luscious lips. Though he immediately wished to kiss her, his silent perusal of her appearance continued. He could not explain it, perhaps it was the meditation or the dim light of stone hive, but she seemed even more beautiful in that moment than all the ones in the week she had been back at the ashram.

Unable to help himself, George leaned over and kissed her relaxed lips. Her eyes opened quickly but she quickly smiled. Without pause, he too smiled before he brushed his lips over hers again. Sitara’s lips parted, inviting him to deepen the kiss. George quickly followed suit and gently pressed her backwards at the same time. 

He shifted to the side of her, letting her adjust how she lay, before returning to kiss her. His lips left hers, nibbling along her chin and kissing down her neck. She smiled and sighed happily as he continued to kiss and caress her exposed skin. As she abandoned wearing a sari most days at the compound, opting to just wear her form-fitting tops and full skirts, more of her was exposed than his first days of knowing her. His fingertips skipped over her covered breasts and lightly traced just below the gold embroidered band of her top. Sitara giggled huskily, drawing his eyes to flick up to hers as he kissed the hollow where her collarbones met.

Leaving his hand where it rested, lightly caressing her flat, caramel-colored stomach, George skipped back up to her mouth and kissed her deeply. Her fingers disappeared into his messy, unruly locks, holding him hostage in the kiss. Breaking free of the kiss only once breathing required it, George gazed down into her eyes. Even with only a few brilliant rays of sun peeking into the meditation cave, he could clearly see her eyes glittered like emeralds. He suddenly felt the urge to cover her with sparkling jewels the same hue as her eyes, to pamper her in ways she could not conceive, to shower her thousands of flower petals as soft and fragrant as her skin. Never before had he felt so in tuned with another, not even his wife. His strong emotions for the beauty lying beneath him were greater than he ever believed possible – and this was after only knowing her for barely two months.

“Sita,” he muttered raspingly.

“Yes, George,” her eyes looked up into his.

“I think I…”

“Yes?”

“I am…”

“Yes?”

Rather than say anything, he leaned back down and kissed her sweetly.

“George?”

“Yes, beautiful girl,” he muttered against her lips before kissing her again.

“I think I am too.”

They continued to kiss and caress for a few minutes. Only once did his hand brush her breast. She tensed briefly at that touch, but George’s hand moved on and he did not question her reaction. Not wanting to push her too far or too fast, he purposefully ended their affectionate kissing and touching session before it became much too heated.

Slipping off her to lie beside her in the near darkness, George laced his fingers with hers. She smiled and squeezed his hand, resisting the urge to cuddle next to him. Instead, both closed their eyes and once more focused on their breaths. Without any effort at all, he inhaled as she exhaled for a few moments before their natural rhythms became one.

“George?” Sitara breathed softly.

“Yes, I do too. I do too.”



Remaining in the meditation huts until the moon rose, George led Sitara by hand down the hill. They made their way to the communal kitchen, snagged a few biscuits and fruits, and headed to their meadow to eat, cuddle, and snog more. Having spent much of the day silently meditating together, neither needed to speak to enjoy moments together, yet George felt like he needed to share something more with her.

Sitting with his back against the tree she normally climbed, he pulled her into his lap, kissed her quickly, and fell into storytelling. She smiled and snuggled up against his chest as he told her stories about his childhood, prior to becoming a Beatle. Midway through his fourth story, her eyelids began to droop. Not because she found his stories uninteresting, but because the hour was late. As her face was not turned to his nor brightly illuminated as the moon only appeared as a sliver that night, George did not notice Sitara’s weariness and kept talking.

“You know, I think she would fancy you,” he declared.

“Who?” Sitara asked, failing to suppress a yawn.

“My mother,” George stated, though did not explain why. “Are you sleepy? Should I walk you back to your room?”

“I…” she yawned again. “I suppose so. I would rather stay here in your arms.”

He kissed the top of her head, “Ah but if we were to both fall asleep out here, who would protect you from the tigers?”

“Or you from the pigs?” she teased.

George grinned, “Them too. Let me escort you back to your room.”

“If you insist,” she quickly kissed him and stood, vacating his lap.

Getting to his feet, his lips touched her briefly, “Meditate with me tomorrow. I have never before felt anything quite as… magical as I did today.”

Sitara smiled, “Perhaps I will. Though I already have to explain to the girls why I did not go shopping with them today. They may require my time tomorrow.”

He stopped in the middle of the path back to camp and kissed her deeply, “I suppose I can relinquish you for awhile tomorrow.”

Her lips pecked his, “I will make it worth it.”

“Oh really?” his brows rose as sordid thoughts filled his mind.

Winking, Sitara pulled away and continued down the path. Taking a deep breath, he pushed away his lust-filled thoughts, knowing she could not truly mean what he thought. Instead, he trotted to catch up with her, looped his arm around her waist, and kissed her temple.

Being in love was unreal – but George loved every moment of it.