December 1965

Connie hated waiting for George to come home.

It wasn't usually so bad when he was working in the studio, but it was practically agony when he was away on tour. He'd been gone for just over a month, and it had been the longest of her life, with work not distracting her nearly enough. Thankfully she still had the other Beatles' wives and girlfriends to keep her company, but when she was so used to being constantly around her boyfriend it was jarring to not be with him anymore. Being without George reminded her of all the lonely days she'd spent before the two of them began courting, and that was a time she never wanted to go back to.

She could've gone on the tour with them, she'd been on tour with them before after she put in for a few weeks leave at work, but she couldn't do that again, not with that particular tour being so close to the end of the year when the New Times was busy preparing for the Christmas and New Year editions, and she couldn't take long breaks from work anymore, not now she was the most respected writer there and they relied on her articles. So, she'd waved the boys off at the airport five weeks before, holding back tears in case John saw and tried to make fun of her for them, hugging and kissing George at any opportunity she had before they had to leave for their flight.

It was only meant to be a short UK tour, but it felt like the longest yet. Maybe that was down to the fact they were all so busy, too busy to even call sometimes. On previous tours she'd had phonecalls where the phone had been passed around the whole band, much to George's annoyance, but not this time, and so she had been quietly counting down the days for their return. She tried to keep herself busy with her writing, spending most of her evenings over at Kenwood with Cynthia and Julian, even though the house felt so empty with John away, but her mind never really left the subject of George.

Of course she knew she loved him before he'd left for the tour, but the pain she felt at his absence only seemed to heighten her understanding of her feelings. She'd loved him for as long as she could remember, the naive school girl sat on the bus with him in Liverpool, but the last two years had been a whirlwind, from the two of them finally making their feelings known to each other, moving in with each other in the flat with Ringo, to finally settling in Kinfauns, the bungalow the two of them had bought together last summer. Whilst George paid for the house, Connie put most of her wages towards the restoration of the house and the bills, determined to contribute despite him earning far more than her, and after moving in the two of them knew happiness that neither of them had experienced before. Now they had their own space the two of them became so much more serious in their relationship, and being alone in the house left Connie feeling as though a part of her was missing.

Waking up alone, cooking meals for one, sitting alone in front of the television at night, they were all far more tiring than she thought. Connie couldn't help but hate how dependent on George she had become, classing herself as a strong independent woman, but she loved George, and her life without him, even if it was only a few weeks, seemed so dull, so empty. He wasn't gone really, because he did ocassionally call, and his face was always on the front page with the rest of the band, and his presence was still felt as she was often followed to work by press, with fans sometimes surrounding the New Times' building. The Beatles were ever present in her life even when they were far away, but she'd much rather they all be back home where she could see them properly and not just on the news, especially George.

Connie was pacing around the kitchen of Kinfauns, glancing nervously at the clock. Their plane was due to land at six, and it had just gone seven. He would be home any minute, and the thought of George's return made Connie's chest tighten in nerves. She always worried whenever he went away without her, worried that he would return and no longer love her, or worried that the trip would have changed him into someone that wasn't the George she knew and loved. She knew that to worry about such things was stupid, and so she tried to distract herself, attempting to go back to her typewriter at the table and finish off another article for work, but she couldn't. There were far more important things to think about other than work, and so instead she made her way into the living room where her old record player was set up.

When they first moved into the house George had suggested buying Connie a new record player, since she'd had that one since she was about twelve, but it still worked perfectly and she still loved it, so it sat pride of place on an antique table she'd bought in the corner of their living room, her record collection organised underneath the table in boxes. She knelt down, flicking through the records until she found her copy of the Please Please Me album. She'd had it since it first came out, and remembered how she'd ran straight from work after payday to the record store to buy it. It was in pristine condition still, and so she carefully placed it onto the deck, putting the needle down onto the specific part of the record she wanted to listen to most.

'Listen, do you want to know a secret?' played out into the living room, and she turned the volume up, saouring the sound of George's voice.

She never listened to the records if he wasn't home, she heard their songs enough on the radio, but she still tried to avoid listening to the Beatles music whenever the boys were far from home. Of course she was so proud of them all, but it just hurt hearing them and knowing that the only way she would get to hear their voices was through a record and not in person like she was used to. This time, however, Connie couldn't help it, and she needed to hear George's voice. He was due home soon, but she couldn't wait anymore, she just missed him far too much.

"Closer, let me whisper in your ear," she began to sing along, closing her eyes and imagining it was George actually singing to her and not just the noise of the vinyl. "Say the words you long to hear,"

"I'm in love with you," a voice sang from behind, one that sounded eactly like the record but more real.

Then, as if she'd conjoured him out of her wishful thinking, Connie felt a pair of hands on her hips, squeezing her gently, hands snaking around her waist as someone pulled her into a tight embrace. She let out a small gasp, her eyes flying open as she spun around, coming face to face with the very man she'd been so desperate to see. George seemed just as happy to see her too, as a toothy grin grew on his face, one that doubled as Connie threw her arms around his shoulders, pushing her lips to his. His hands went to hold her face as he kissed her back, savouring holding her after being away from her for so long.

"Missed me, have ya'?" George questioned with a smirk as he pulled away from their kiss, though she rested her forehead against his, her hand stroking his hair. She let out a small laugh, glancing over to the record player.

"More than you'd know," she muttered, pushing another kiss to his cheek before she stepped away from him, looking him up and down, savouring the sight of him. "You look exhausted,"

"Yeah, it's been a long trip," he shrugged casually. "We were meant to be back hours ago, I wanted to be here before you got in from work but there was traffic and then press and..."

"It's alright, you're home now," she grinned, relief washing over her, glad to finally have him back. "How're the lads? John wasn't a swine the whole trip was he?"

"Nah, he's fine, they're all fine, they wanted to come and see you but they're all knackered too so they've gone home to their birds," George explained as he stretched, going over to their sofa and collapsing down, letting out an exhausted sigh.

Connie wanted to go and sit down next to him, to wrap her hands around him and hold him tightly, never wanting to let him go again. Instead though, that was when Connie noticed his suitcases in the doorway. She decided that she'd go and take the cases upstairs, fix him a drink and then sit with him, but as soon as she began to make her way over to the cases, she saw George sit up slightly, watching her with a frown.

"What're you doing?" he asked, seeming almost nervous as she went to his bags.

"Putting your cases away?" she frowned back at him. "Last time you went on tour you insisted you were gonna unpack yourself the cases sat in the hallway for a week,"

"Yeah well, just leave them and come 'ere," he rolled his eyes, probably just bored that she was bringing up that occassion yet again. "I wanna talk to you, I've had no one for company except the lads, I've missed decent conversation,"

"Oi, don't be mean about Ringo," she joked, but made her way back to the sofa, flopping down next to him.

As soon as she was on the sofa next to him George wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him, taking in a deep breath as he thought about just how nice it was to be back with her. To him, Connie meant home. She always had done, long before they even shared a home. He'd realised when they were kids, back when she was his best mate that'd be on the school bus everyday, the girl that woud be at every band rehearsal and gig, the girl who'd spend any day off from work with him. He'd loved her for as long as he'd known her, long before she'd even become his girlfriend. He didn't know what his life would be without her, and going on tour was a horrible reminder for just how much he needed her in his life. As great as it all was, as amazing as his career was becoming, and as much as he loved his bandmates as if they were his brothers, he loved Connie more than the rest of it all, and being away from her made him appreciate her even more.

Loving and appreciating her made keeping secrets from her all the harder.

"Hey, Con?" he began, looking over at her with a small, nervous smile.

"What?" she asked worriedly, feeling her stomach tighten slightly, being able to read him better than anyone else and knowing his tone of voice was one he only ever used if he was worried.

"I have something to tell you," he said, struggling to meet her eye as if he was figuring out just how to phrase his thoughts.

With a sigh, he got up and went over to his smaller suitcase, carrying it back over to the sofa where Connie was watching him through narrowed eyes. He sat back down, leaning down over the suitcase as he unzipped it, taking out a brown envelope on top of his folded suits. He opened the envelope up and fished out a newspaper clipping, handing it to Connie as she realised it was a newspaper photograph of the two of them from the premiere of 'Help!'.

It was a nice photograph where the two of them were laughing, Connie hugging George as he grinned at her with love in his eyes. It was a picture she'd never seen before, which made a change given the fact that she'd go out of her way to seek out newspapers and magazines that would feature articles and photographs of the Beatles. Her not seeing it though added up as she read the small print and saw it was credited to the Liverpool Echo, and she looked up at George in shock, wondering just how he had a newspaper clipping from home.

"One of the last minute stops on the tour was Liverpool," he confessed, and Connie let out a shocked sigh, realising that they'd been home without her. "We didn't even know we were going, but it was quite convenient, Paul insisted he go home to see his Dad so I thought I'd call in to see your old man while he was there,"

"You've been to see my dad?" she asked in surprise, raising her eyebrows. "How was he?"

"He's good, he's the one who gave me the picture," he explained. "He's been collecting newspaper clippings from whenever they do features of the band and he said thats the happiest he's ever seen you so he wanted you to have it,"

He wasn't wrong. She could remember just how much fun that night had been, but in truth all of her life had been fun since she'd become George's girlfriend. It had been a mad whirlwind since they upgraded their friendship to a relationship, but it was the greatest journey she'd ever been on. She looked down at the clipping, looking at George's face in the photograph. The picture was black and white but she could still make out the exact expression on his face, and it was one that made her stomach flutter with fireworks as if she was still a smitten teenager.

"We should go to Liverpool soon, before New Year if we get the chance," Connie thought aloud, before she got up, still holding the clipping as she went over to the fireplace, placing the clipping up on the mantel where she decided she would have to get a frame for it and have it hung up properly.

From behind her, she heard George rustling in the brown envelope again, and with another frown she turned around, wondering exactly what else he had brought back from his spontaneous trip home. She thought maybe another newspaper clipping or a proper photograph, what she hadn't been expecting was to see him moved off the sofa on one knee, holding out a delicate silver ring.

"What the fuck, Georgie?" she exclaimed before she could stop herself, running her hands through her hair anxiously as she rushed back over to him, ignoring the way he laughed at her outburst.

"I've been trying to think of how to ask you, but then when I found out we were going to Liverpool I knew the sooner the better, so I went to see your Dad to ask him for his permission, and then I needed to go to my parents to get the family ring," George told her, still fighting off a grin. "I was gonna wait until Christmas, but I couldn't wait, cause when we were sat in the car on the way home, I just thought... I never want to be without you, ever. I don't knowwhat life is without you, Con, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you,"

Connie didn't know how to feel, her entire body trembling as she moved the kneel next to George. She didn't realise she'd started crying until George used his free hand to cup her face, rubbing his thumb under her eye to brush her tears away. She let out a small, overwhelmed laugh, nodding before George could even finish, already knowing where he was going with the whole thing, knowing that there was nothing she was more certain of, because she too didn't want to live without him.

"I love you, and I want you to be my wife," George stated, and Connie wasn't sure if his voice was shaking slightly. "So, Connie Lennon-Jones, marry me?"

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Word count: 2724

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Author's note:

Sequel anyone??