Title: Candlelit
Characters: Sitara Barlow, Kanti Singh, George & Pattie Harrison, George's extended family
Word Count: 2530
Rating: PG13 [sexual tension, innuendo]
Warnings/Spoilers/Summary: George invites Sita and Kanti to join him and Pattie at his parents' for Easter. Spoilers.




April 11, 1971
London, England

Stepping into the flat, Sitara grinned brightly. She did not say anything as she headed into the small kitchen. Filling a glass with water, she waited for her best friend to surface, knowing without a doubt that Kanti had been waiting patiently for her return. As expected, the pretty Indian woman stepped into the kitchen, her expectant eyes on the heiress. Feigning ignorance, Sitara focused on her glass of water.

“Okay, spill it,” Kanti spoke up.

Sitara glanced over the top of her glass, “Hmmm?”

“You look like the cat who caught the songbird.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

Kanti folded her arms across her chest, “You were gone much longer than ‘just a lunch.’”

“Well.... George and I...”

“Wait, you were out with George?”

She nodded.

“Sita...”

“Anyways, he invited us to go to Liverpool.”

“He did?”

Sitara nodded, “We’re going to join him and Pattie at his parents’ for Easter.”

Kanti paused for a moment, “Do you even know anything about Easter?”

“Well no, not much, but I am excited to learn. And this will mean shopping with Pattie.”

Her eyes brightened, “Ooooooh. That is exciting.”



With Pattie and Kanti at the market picking up last minute ingredients for their contribution to Easter brunch, George sat with Sitara in her hotel room. His arm slipped around her shoulders, subtly pulling her closer to him. Her emerald green eyes flicked up to his and she smiled. Without hesitation, he leaned over and kissed her gently.

“I am so glad that you came with us,” he stated softly.

“You asked me to. How could I say no?”

His fingers reached up, lifting a curl from her shoulder, “I am sure you could...”

“I have never told you no,” she declared.

His eyes held hers, his brows arching up, but he said nothing.

“Outside of the bedroom at least,” Sitara added.

Chuckling he kissed her temple, “Sita...”

“George, you’re married. And I promised Pattie...”

“Promised Pattie?”

She quickly looked away, “I’m not sure what I’m more nervous about: meeting your family or attending your church.”

“They’ll love you, luv. You don’t have to worry about anything,” he assured her, though he was still wondering what Sitara promised his wife. “You’re lovely. They will all see that.”

“I hope so. Pattie helped us find appropriate dresses for tonight and tomorrow,” Sitara declared. “Do you want to see them?”

“Will you model them?”

“If you’d like...”

“I would,” he nodded.

Kissing him quickly, Sitara stood and headed over to the wardrobe where the garments were already stored. She pulled open the doors, blocking her body from George’s view. He heard the zip of a dress and leaned to the side, hoping to get a peek at her. Before he spied the Indian dancer, keys turned the hotel room lock, causing him to sit up and Sitara to close the wardrobe doors, still attired in exactly the same thing as before. 

Hiding his frown, George got to his feet and quickly approached his wife, kissing her cheek, “Get everything needed?”

“I think so. There were a couple of items, we could not find, but Kanti had suggestions for substitutions,” Pattie responded, handing the paper bag to him.

“I am certain my family will appreciate it,” he nodded, glancing in the bag. “Anything that needs to be kept cold?”

“Um, I think so,” she peered into the bag. “Yeah, there is.”

“I will go put it on ice until we get to my parents’. You girls... do whatever girls do before going somewhere...”

Two hours later, attired in fashionable yet modest dresses, the two Indian women stood amongst wooden pews with George’s family. Though his parents, brothers, and their families seemed to take instantly to the two guests, Sitara opted to sit between George and Kanti. Pattie had warned her the Easter Vigil could last for hours and she wanted to not have to worry about what she might mumble during it.

With the church completely dark, symbolizing the beginning of the service, George’s hand discreetly folded over Sitara’s fingers, as Pattie held the lit service candle. Sitara wiggled her hand slightly, positioning it better to hold his, and passed her candle to her best friend. On Kanti’s other side, Harry explained softly what was happening as the deacon slowly proceeded down the nave towards the sanctuary. Sitara strained to listen, but quickly gave up and focused on the sensations traveling up her arm, centering on George’s thumb rubbing the back of her hand.

She bit her bottom lip and stole a glance at him as the deacon chanted the Easter Proclamation. While Sitara did not know the proper response to the chant, George opted to not chime in with the churchgoers either. Instead, he held her shy gaze for a long moment.

Through the long service, lit by the candles held by parishioners, George never released Sitara’s hand, except when needed during the service. He spoke in whispers with his wife, even kissed her temple at one point, yet still held onto Sitara. Kanti noticed, but knew better than to say anything, especially around his wife and family. If George chose to act thus, it was not her place to speak. She, instead, focused on the service, trying to understand what it was trying to teach.

Leaving the church long after sundown, Sitara attempted to suppress a yawn. Though the plan had been to return to the Harrison’s house together, George seized the opportunity of alone time with Sitara. He quickly excused them, convinced his wife to return to the house with Kanti who seemed to have taken up another debate with his older brother, and skirted the Indian heiress off to a waiting car.

Seated in the back of the car, George scooted as close to Sitara as he could. He wanted to loop his arm around her shoulders but resisted. Instead, his hand found hers again. Her green eyes boldly met his and she smiled sweetly.

“You don’t have to escort me back to the hotel. I would have been fine with your family for a few more hours,” she stated softly.

“I could not bear another few hours with them,” he smirked. “Besides, we have hardly had the chance to be alone this weekend.”

“Well your wife is with us.”

He reached up with his free hand, tucking her hair behind her ear, “Sita, you know things aren’t simple.”

“I know. And it’s even more difficult because I adore Pattie,” she responded, closing her eyes. “Maybe I shouldn’t have ―”

“Yes, you should have,” he leaned over and quickly kissed her before they arrived at the hotel. “Come. Let us go upstairs.”

Sneaking into the hotel through a back door, just in case any Beatles fans discovered George’s location, the two hurried up the top floor. Sitara pulled her room key out of her small purse, glancing at George. His hand slipped into his pocket, feeling around for his own key. He turned his pocket inside out when he pulled his hand out. Her eyes dropped down to his empty hand as she pushed the door open and stepped aside.

He took two steps forward, quickly glanced both ways down the corridor, and leaned down. A quick smile graced his face before his lips touched hers. He stepped around her, pausing to remove his jacket as she closed the door.

“The service was... interesting,” Sitara stated as George helped her out of her jacket.

“You do not need to lie to me, Sita,” he responded, hanging both of their jackets in the closet. “It was dreadfully boring and overdrawn.”

“Well... perhaps. Hindi religious ceremonies are far more... vibrant and...”

He returned to her, meeting her eyes as he touched her cheek, “Beautiful.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of ‘action-filled.’”

Saying nothing else, George once more leaned down and kissed her once more. Her hands slipped over his shoulders and she pushed up on her toes. His arms slipped around her small waist, pulling her closer as he deepened their kiss. Ending the kiss once they ran out of breath, George pecked her lips once more before allowing her down from her tiptoes.

“You were so gorgeous lit by all those candles tonight.”

She flushed, “You were supposed to be paying attention to the priest.”

“I could not help it,” he smiled slightly and guided her over to sit on the bed. “Your beauty, Sita...”

“George...”

“We have a few... hours of privacy...”

“Sweetheart,” Sitara met his eyes, “now is not the time for―”

“It is a time of new beginning, a resurrection of faith and love,” he declared, leaned over and kiss her neck.

Her eyes fluttered closed and she sighed, “George, we should not...”

“I love you, Sita,” he muttered, his hand gently running down the front of her dress, hesitating from cupping her breasts.

“George...”

Leaving Sitara’s room an hour later, George lit up a cigarette and leaned against the wall next to his own room’s door. Staring down at the floor, he hid his smile with a puff of his cigarette. He did not know how long he was going to wait for his wife to return to the hotel, but he did not particularly care. The night was already filled with bliss; he could wait as long as needed.



Her green eyes lifted as George’s mother sat beside her. Though she seemed to fit in with his family nicely, she had not expected to be alone with her. Discreetly, she glanced around for George, Pattie, or even Kanti, but all were occupied in other discussions. Instead, she smiled at Louise, wondering what the older woman was thinking.

“I truly enjoyed your rice dish. George has spoken often of your culinary prowess, but I had not expected... it was simply marvelous,” she declared.

“Thank you. I would like to thank you for welcoming Kanti and myself to Liverpool. It has been quite a weekend full of new discoveries, “ Sitara responded.

“I was delighted when George informed me of your joining us for Easter. I have always enjoyed your company, Sitara.”

“And I yours,” she smiled slightly.

“I would love to show you the garden. Have you seen it this year?”

“I have not.”

“Come along,” she grabbed the young woman’s hand and stood.

George watched in interest as his mother led the Indian beauty out of the buzz of the family. Though he wanted to intersect their walk, he stayed where he was, half-involved in a conversation with his sister-in-law. No one else seemed to notice the two departing. Perhaps it was nothing for him to be concerned about.

After a brief walk through the garden, with Louise pointing out her new plantings, the two women came to a stop some distance from the house. Sitara instantly felt her nerves rise and silently scolded herself. She had known Louise since her arrival in London. There was no need to feel anxious with George’s mother; none at all.

“May I ask you something?” the older woman met her eyes.

“Of course, Louise.”

“Do you love my son?”

Sitara did not blink, “I do. He is a very dear friend.”

“We are alone, Sita. No one to hear your words but me and God.”

“I love George. I will not deny that. Ever.”

“Even if his wife asks?”

She paused for a moment, “Even if Pattie asks.”

“I do adore Pattie, as you know, but I am very fond of you. I can see that my son... George is very taken with you. I thought perhaps...” she turned away, pacing along the garden.

Sitara instantly understood she was to follow. Saying nothing, she joined Louise.

“I thought perhaps his infatuation with you would lessen once you relocated to England, that perhaps the intrigue was the distance and the exotic appeal of India,” she declared. “But I have not seen that is the case.”

“No?”

“Not in the least. If anything, I would say the exact opposite has happened.”

“I see,” she responded evenly, hiding her emotional reaction to his mother’s declaration.

“It is a... difficult thing for George, I am certain. He is loyal to his wife ― to some extent. But his eyes belie his feelings towards you.”

“I...”

“I saw him looking at you during the Vigil last night,” Louise pointed out. “I have never seen such... passion before.”

“Louise, I don’t know...”

“I am not asking you to do anything. In fact, he is the one who needs to figure out his heart,” she stopped, turning to Sitara. “But it does make a difference in my mind and heart that you feel as he does.”

“I believe I do.”

“Then my heart is eased,” she smiled.

Not knowing how to respond, Sitara merely smiled in response.

The older woman reached for Sitara’s hands, squeezed them once, and then turned to head back towards into the house, “Oh look, the children missed an egg. George so wants children, but five years of marriage and Pattie has not conceived...”

Biting her bottom lip, Sitara picked up the missed egg. Not feeling that it was her place to say anything, she remained silent as she followed Louise back to the house. The older woman did not stay on the topic long, instead pointing out other plantings on their walk back. Though no longer nervous to be alone with Louise, Sitara found herself feeling more confused than before. Had George’s mother blessed their forbidden relationship? Had she suggested Sitara should bear his children? 

Pushing her questions into the back of her mind, she pressed the found egg into the youngest of George’s nieces and nephews’ hands. The child giggled happily, thanking her for the Easter present. Trying to focus on the moment, on absorbing the Western holiday, Sitara smiled and moved through George’s family until she found Pattie.

Meeting the model’s eyes, she smiled and hugged her, kissing her cheek. Pattie embraced her as well, before inviting her into the conversation with one of George’s uncles. Remaining by her friend’s side, she caught George’s questioning eyes from across the room. Sitara merely smiled reassuringly at him before responding to a question asked of her. If being with George meant she would see his family often, at least on major holidays, then she was even more grateful to be there ― even if the future may mean severing her friendship with the woman at her side. She only hoped if that happened, George would be resurrected in the eyes of his family. 

She would hate to be his Judas kiss.