January 1966

As soon as the door opened to the press room in the NEMS office, Connie flinched involuntarily at the sound of cameras clicking and journalists calling out their names. She hoped it had gone unnoticed, plastering a grin across her face as she gripped George's hand tightly, letting him lead her into the room.

There was a table for the two of them to sit on, and the rest of the press were lined in front of it in a crowd, all of them desperate for information on what would be front page news, not that Connie could understand why. They were only getting married the next day, it wasn't as if they were royalty or a war was breaking out. It all felt a little ridiculous, but so was the rest of their lives ever since the Beatles had made it big. She found the idea that her and George getting married was such huge news that she couldn't help but laugh quietly to herself, especially as she hopped up onto the table, George sitting down next to her, his hand still intertwined with hers.

Connie looked down to the crowd in front of them, most of them either holding cameras or notebooks, and she couldn't help but be disappointed by the fact that the majority of the journalists stood before them were men, and most of them with southern, queen's English accents. The obvious exception was Ruby, who'd pushed her way to front and centre, probably knowing both parties of the couple would rather a familiar face be easily recognisable in the crowd than have to talk to complete strangers.

Before either Connie or George got the chance to acknowledge any of the press though, not even Ruby, they both felt a hand be placed on their shoulders. They both turned their heads to see Brian, stood behind them protectively. It was his idea to announce their upcoming wedding the day before, and it was good for them to know he had their back throughout it all, like always.

"Fifteen minutes, try and answer whatever you feel comfortable with," he told them both, his voice low enough for only them to hear. When they both nodded, he continued, "If any of them ask something that you don't want to answer, just look to me and we'll end it, alright?"

"Sounds good, you're the boss," George said, nodding in agreement, and Connie grinned to show she agreed.

The press seemed to take that as confirmation that they could start, and they immediately began bombarding them with questions. She knew some of them were filming for television and she couldn't help but panic slightly, wondering if it was live and their parents and the other Beatles were watching the scene unfold in the safety of their homes. After a few moments of shouting the press seemed to organise themselves, and finally individual questions could be heard.

"So, Miss Lennon, how does it feel knowing you're the envy of every girl in Britain, if not the world?" the first male journalist shouted over the rest, and Connie snorted out a laugh.

"It feels great, thank you," she answered dryly with an amused smirk, struggling not to grin as she heard George laugh.

"I'm sure you're feeling really rather lucky to become Mrs Harrison aren't you?" the same journalist pushed, clearly not satisfied with her initial answer, clearly wanting her to gush about how lucky she felt.

"Maybe you should be asking me how lucky I feel getting to marry her," George pointed out, and Connie couldn't help but look up at him gratefully with a grin. "I get to marry one of the greatest writers in all of London and she was the greatest girl in Liverpool, I'm really the lucky one,"

She'd expected the press to paint her as lucky, presenting her as a girl who'd won a prize rather than marrying the man she loved. She knew they'd bring up the jealousy people would feel towards her, but even if she'd prepared herself for those sorts of questions it didn't make it less annoying. That was why she was so glad George had jumped in, not allowing them to think of her solely as his, instead making sure they knew she had her own talents and had much more value than they placed on her. Connie couldn't help herself, caught up in the excitement of the wedding and happiness that George had spoken so highly of her, so she lent over kissing his cheek.

She heard the sound of cameras clicking and the odd whistle, but all she cared about was how George smirked proudly as she kissed him, and how as soon as she'd moved her face slightly away from his, he returned to favour, turning and pushing a kiss on her own cheek. She usually hated public displays of affection, knowing that such sweet moments would decorate the front pages of every magazine and newspaper, but this was a special occasion and the two of them were just so happy that neither of them really cared for once.

"How did the two of you meet, and when did you decide you wanted to marry Miss Lennon?" The question got asked, and Connie looked to George expectantly, wondering what he would say.

"I've wanted to marry her ever since she broke some lad's nose after he gave me a black eye," he said casually, as if that was such a normal experience. Connie let out a laugh of disbelief, unsure if he was being truthful or just telling the story because it was funny and made her out to be fearless, and though the press murmured apprehensively, thinking of her as a thug, George beamed at her proudly. "Nah, seriously, we met on the school bus,"

"Paul introduced us," Connie said, knowing George's best man would appreciate a mention.

"Right, and he'd always told me how great this girl was, turns out he was right, I fell absolutely in love with her, but she was always more like me best mate and the time was never right," George continued, and Connie watched him intently, trying not to grin. "I never got the chance to ask her out before she moved down south, so when the band made it big and she was on assignment to review one of our concerts I finally made my move. She turned me down at first,"

"Yeah, cause you were George!" she exclaimed, trying to defend herself with a laugh, until she realised how terrible her words sounded to the press. "Not that that's a bad thing, it's just you were me best mate! I think I'd always been in love with you as well but you just don't understand feelings and stuff when you're a kid. I came to my senses eventually though,"

"We'd have been childhood sweethearts if we weren't both so bloody awkward," George stated, earning a few laughs from the crowd in front of them.

"Even with all the fame, do you think that the two of you will ever have a proper marriage?" another male interviewer called, and the two of them tried not to look at each other in amusement. "I mean, do you think you'll be able to be a proper housewife, Miss Lennon?"

"Well, depends what you mean," she shrugged slightly, trying desperately not to roll her eyes. "I'm not marrying George cause he's famous and a Beatle, I'm marrying him cause I love him and cause I know he's got my back, so yeah we'll have a proper marriage, but no, I don't think I'll strive towards being a traditional housewife,"

"Does that mean you'll not be giving up your work at the New Times?" the same reporter asked over the murmurs of sexist apprehension from the other men in the room, whilst Connie merely looked down and made eye contact with Ruby, who was supressing a scowl. "Both Mrs Lennon and Mrs Starkey seem to stay well out of the media attention, why do you think you shouldn't do the same?"

George noticed the question was one that could easily rile Connie up, so he reached inside his jacket pocket and fished out his packet of cigarettes and lighter. He pulled out two, lit them both up and handed one to her. Shooting him a thankful look, she took a drag of the cigarette, expelling a small cloud of smoke as she tried to think of an answer that wouldn't make her seem rude or disrespectful towards the other two Beatles wives. She knew it was likely whatever she said could be painted as something blasphemous towards what was normal in society, so part of her just wanted to speak her mind. Speaking her mind would include a lot of swearing and scouse slang though, so she took another quick drag of the cigarette and looked towards George, who was nodding at her encouragingly.

"No, I'm not giving up my work, I worked too hard at getting that job to just wave goodbye to it just cause I'll be wearing a fancy ring on me left hand," she told them bluntly, and tried not to laugh when she heard the murmurs continue. "That's no criticism of any women who do stay at home, it's just not for me, y'know? I love Cyn and Maureen, but it's different circumstances. I'll try and stay out of the Beatles limelight like they do, but I'm not quitting me career,"

"I wouldn't want her to give her writing up though," George said, squeezing her hand. "She's wanted to be a writer long before she ever wanted to be me wife. Y'know, she wouldn't expect me to give up the guitar and the band,"

They came across as a united front, so if they wanted to criticise Connie for her so called rebellion from societal expectations they'd have to criticise George too. She grinned at him as he held his cigarette up to his lips, and she pushed another kiss to his cheek before she could stop herself, glad that he had her side and wasn't afraid to show it.

"What do the rest of the band think to your engagement, and how about your families?" someone called, and both of them held back a sigh of relief at the much easier question.

"Yeah, they're all made up for us," George said as he stubbed out his own cigarette. "They keep saying it's about time,"

"How do you see your lives from here? How many children do you think you'll want?" a shout from a reporter called them both to reality, and Connie let out another puff of smoke before she stubbed out the cigarette, instantly regretting it as it meant she had nothing to do with her hands to distract her.

"Neither of us want children yet," George answered on both of their behalves, and Connie was glad, not wanting to tackle that particular question. "We're both still young and still just want to have a laugh. Maybe we'll want some in a few years or something, we'll see what happens,"

A few more questions were thrown at them and the press continued to take pictures. Every so often they'd be asked to kiss for the camera and even though they complied with a peck on the lips neither of them could stop laughing, knowing how fake those photos would look. After a while both of them were bored, though they tried to still seem invested. After yet another question was posed to Connie about being a housewife George decided he was done, so he turned and looked at Brian who was still stood behind the couple protectively, and upon noticing George's signal he moved to stand in front of them, calling the session to an end. Whilst he thanked them all for coming, George nudged Connie and gestured over towards the exit door.

The two of them hopped off the table, ready to go, and rushed out the room, sparing a few waves goodbye for the cameras, but as soon as the door was shut the two of them took in a few deep breaths as if they had just escaped a battlefield. Neither of them spoke to each other though, knowing that they weren't in the clear just yet as they still had to get home.

The fans had clearly gotten word somehow about the press release. Outside of the NEMS office the streets were lined with crying and screaming girls, and as they made a run for it to the car Connie noticed George flinch involuntarily at the chaos. Once they were in the car, safely driving away the two of them let out a sigh of relief, Connie leaning over to rest her head on his shoulder. He moved his hand up to stroke the side of her face as she nestled into the crook of his neck, both of them enjoying the silence that they struggled to find in the madness of Beatlemania.

"You alright?" she asked eventually, sitting up and offering him a reassuring smile.

"Yeah, it's just a lot isn't it," he shrugged, gesturing out towards the car windows. "Sorry a lot of the questions were a pain for you,"

"I'd expected them to be worse to be honest," she told him. "Thanks for taking a lot of the tricky ones. It's so mad, like we're just two people getting married and we're having to answer to strangers about whether or not I'm gonna be a housewife or if I'm up the duff,"

"I know, I'm sorry things can't be normal," George said with a sad smile, and it upset Connie how apologetic he sounded.

"Who wants normal when I can have you?" she shrugged, offering him a kiss on the cheek before she looked out the window, realising they were nearly at their first stop on the way back to Kinfauns; Paul's house. "Are you sure you're alright spending the night at Paul's? Y'know you don't have to, it's just a stupid tradition that we can't see each other the night before,"

"Course it's alright," he said with a small laugh. "I don't want to see you until I'm making you me wife,"

Connie laughed, wrapping her arm around his tightly, not looking forward to being apart from him, even if it was only one night. They spent plenty of time apart, what with their work and the bands tours, but the whole point of getting married was that they didn't want to be apart anymore. She just wanted to be with him all the time, and he felt the exact same about her.

"I love you," she muttered to him quietly.

"I know, I love you too," he spoke, pushing a kiss to the top of her head. "I can't wait to marry you, Connie Lennon,"

It was going to be a long wait before tomorrow.

***

Connie had gotten ready far too early, her hair styled in neat curls and her eyeliner applied perfectly. All she had left to do was put on her dress, though as she stared at it hanging up on the outside of her wardrobe door she felt sick with nerves.

Down the hall in the living room she could her hear her father and John laughing with each other, and the presence of the two men in her home didn't help her nerves at all. She loved them both, but in that moment she'd happily trade them for George, just because she wanted to know if he felt the same, if he too felt terrified despite knowing there'd be no regrets about marrying each other. She loved her father and John but she didn't really want them seeing her be so nervous, because they'd either be no help or just tease her.

There wasn't long though before the car was due to pick the three of them up for the registry office so Connie know she had to pull herself together. Carefully, she took the dress off its hanger and moved to stand in front of the mirror, gently pulling it on and doing the buttons up, stroking the fabric down to make sure it all sat right. A small smile grew on her face as she caught her reflection, still in love with the dress, and as she did a small spin to watch the skirt flare out she bit back a grin, feeling the storm of butterflies surge as she wondered what George would think to how she looked. The moment her mind settled on George though was the moment she realised just how scared she was to get married.

Breaking her from her thoughts, a small knock came at the door.

"Connie, love, you decent? Can I come in?" Her father's voice called.

"Yeah, come in," she nodded, despite the door being closed, though as soon as the door opened she turned away from the mirror and offered her father a small smile, gesturing down at the dress she was wearing. "I don't look a prick do I?"

"No, love, you look lovely," he held back a laugh, grinning at her in amazement until Connie noticed him becoming teary-eyed. "Sorry, I didn't want to get emotional,"

"Me neither," Connie shrugged, sighing as she held her hand out to show him how badly she was shaking. "I shouldn't be so nervous, I know I love George and I'm never gonna regret marrying him, I just-"

"Kid, it's natural, I was the same when I married your Mum," he moved to take hold of her outstretched hand, squeezing it supportively. "I know you'll say it's completely different cause I'd not known her nearly as long as you've known your lad before we got married, but I just knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. I mean, I was about to head off back to the front line in France so I didn't know how much longer I had, but marrying her scared me far more than anything in the war,"

The love story of her parents was the ideal Connie had grown up with. Even if they'd met in tricky circumstances, they'd somehow made it work, and their love had prevailed. She'd grown up never really thinking about getting married, romance not high up on her list of priorities, but she'd also grown up knowing that her father had set the standards high for any future man in her life. She'd grown up watching her father treat her mother like she was the most important person in the world, bring flowers home once a week, cooking for her whenever he was home from work first, leaving her notes around the house for whenever he had to work late. They were all little things, but that's what made their relationship special, and that's what made her think they were the perfect couple. They were perfectly matched for each other, so to think that her father, one of the bravest men she knew, was scared to get married baffled Connie to no end.

"I was only so nervous cause I thought she was the greatest girl and just wanted to do right by her," he explained. "I mean, we were both young, younger than you and George are now, but if you think about it, every big thing seems terrifying at first. How nervous were you moving to London?"

"I thought I'd been really good at hiding how scared I was," she shrugged with a small smirk.

"Nah, I just let you think that you'd hidden it," he laughed. "Every big thing in life is a change, and that's scary at first but as long as you know you want that big thing, and you want the change, then you should be alright, and honestly I'm not worried for you at all. I know you and George will be really happy together, your mum would love him, in fact... well the two of you remind me of your mum and me back in the day,"

Before she could stop herself Connie had thrown herself at her father, wrapping her arms around him as she hugged him tightly. She hoped that by hugging him she'd be able to stop herself from crying, but that was impossible. He'd completely settled her nerves, but instead made her emotional. They didn't usually deal with sentimental emotions, both of them too serious and sarcastic, but in that moment Connie wanted noting more than parental support. His words meant the world to her, and she was so glad he was there for her, on that day and every day before that.

"Now then," he said whilst she was still hugging him. "Are you all ready?"

"Think so," she said with a nod as she stepped away, thinking of the traditional wedding rhyme. "Something old, my locket. Something new, my dress and shoes. Something borrowed, I've got one of George's guitar picks stashed in the bottom of my shoe. I just need something blue,"

"Oh, perfect then," he nodded, reaching into his inside jacket pocket, pulling out a small jewellery box and handing it to her. "Thought you might like to wear these,"

Carefully, she took the box off her father and opened it, revealing a pair of tiny earring studs. Though they were only small, they were silver and modelled in the shape of stars, each of them having a small blue crystal embodied in the centre. The were beautiful, and oddly familiar, until the memory of her mother wearing those exact earrings came back to her. A vivid memory hit Connie of her ninth birthday, the last one she celebrated with her mum, and she remembered how her mother had worn those exact earrings then. She'd always thought they were beautiful, but she hadn't seen them in over fifteen years, a relic of the past just like her memories of her mother.

Perhaps that was the nicest part of her father lending them to her for the wedding, like getting to wear a piece of her childhood, of her mother. In a strange way, by wearing them, it would almost be like she was there. Overwhelmed again, she pulled her father into another hug.

"Thank you," Connie mumbled quietly, not realising she was crying again until she felt her cheeks dampen ever so slightly.

She pulled herself together, pulling away and flashing her father one last smile before she rushed over to the mirror. Her father used this as the perfect excuse to escape before any more emotional outbursts, saying he was going to look if the car was outside yet. She put the earrings in first, fighting off a smile as she considered how nice they looked, feeling truly special to be wearing them. They weren't decadent or fancy, but Connie had never cared about those sorts of things anyway, and they were her mothers, that was all that mattered.

Checking up on her makeup, she sighed as she had to fix her eyeliner slightly, though as she was looking at herself she caught the reflection of John stood in the doorway, all done up in one of his best suits, even wearing his glasses. His shaggy hair had been combed neatly too, and she was genuinely flattered that he'd go to such efforts for her. She shot him a small smile as she fixed her makeup, but as soon as it was done she turned round to look at him properly, noticing the usual mischievous glint in his eye; same old John, even if he was smarter than usual.

"You look like you're going to a wedding," John remarked, flashing his signature cocky grin.

"So do you," she hit back, twirling around in her dress for him. "What do you think, Johnny?"

"I think George'll shit himself that he gets to marry a bird as great as you," he said rather casually, despite it being one of the nicest things he'd ever said to her. "Not to be soppy or owt,"

"You can lose the hard lad act for one day, John," she told him, raising an eyebrow as he sighed.

"Fine, I think you look lovely, I'm really happy for you and George, and I'm really proud of you, Con, even if you are a swine," he said with a sigh until his words became genuine and Connie didn't know how to react at all.

He saw how stunned she looked, staring at him wide-eyed, frozen in place as se didn't know what to do. He never said anything that nice to her, and even he was surprised he'd told her how he really felt, but seeing her that stunned was a little amusing, until he thought she was going to start crying again. He let out a quiet laugh, scratching the back of his head nervously before he crossed the room. If he was going to compliment her that nicely, he may as well finish off the sentimentalities, so before he could decide against it he pulled her into a tight hug. She flinched slightly, not expecting it, before she wrapped her own arms around him, squeezing him just as tight.

"Obviously I didn't mean all that nice stuff, you're still a scrawny little bint," he said as he hugged her, making her snort out a laugh, all emotions forgotten.

"Get off me, swine," she laughed, pulling out of his grip, only to see her father stood in the doorway again, grinning at the two Lennon's. "What's occurring, dad?"

"Car's outside, you ready?" he asked, and Connie nodded with a grin, nerves and tears replaced with excitement.

***

Ever since they got to the registry office, George hadn't stopped pacing.

"You look nervous," Paul commented as George checked his watch for the fifth time, only to glare up at his best man. "Just saying,"

"You'd be nervous too, y'know," George muttered, deciding to stop pacing and sit down on one of the seats on the front row. "God, I wonder what she's doing?"

Paul had actually never seen George so worked up about anything before. They'd been mates from being kids and had worked together since being teenagers, and never had Paul seen George so nervous he could barely do his tie. No concert or premiere or press gig could even compare, and he didn't really understand why. It wasn't like this was a spontaneous thing, he'd openly said to the press the day before that he'd wanted to marry Connie for years, so why was he so worried?

The only conciliating thought was knowing that Connie was probably just as nervous as George. She was usually so tough, determined that no one would ever think she was emotionally weak, but Paul had definitely known her long enough to know that this situation was one even she couldn't fake bravery for.

"Oi, I thought you were meant to be keeping him calm?" Ringo called from where he was sat on the front row next to Maureen. Paul shrugged, so he got up and went over to his two bandmates, wrapping his arm around George's shoulder. "Come on, Harrison, it's not that terrifying getting married,"

"Well I wouldn't know, I've never done it before," George joked dryly, managing a small laugh before he ruffled his hands through his hair nervously. "Were you this..."

"Yeah, George, I thought I was gonna faint," Ringo laughed, patting his shoulder. "You'll be fine,"

And he was fine, mostly. He took a leaf out of Connie's usual book and faked bravery, smiling and greeting the few guests that they had invited. It was only a small wedding, just his family and her closest friends, but the more people that came in the more suffocated he began to feel. Part of him wished that time would go quicker so that Connie would get there sooner and they could just get on with it, but that wasn't a very romantic perspective to view their wedding, and he didn't know if he would be even more nervous the moment he saw her.

When the inevitable moment that the registrar came to the front of the room and told George that the bride had arrived, George realised Ringo had a point; he wanted to faint. It didn't help when the music started and he felt his heart pound in his chest, especially as Ringo had to take his seat again and he was stood at the front with only Paul and the registrar. He quickly adjusted his hair, trying desperately to make sure he hadn't messed it up, and taking in a deep breath he turned around to face the door.

"Well she looks... Nice," Paul muttered to George quietly, as small smirk growing on his face.

Paul was right, except she didn't just look nice. Walking down the aisle, dressed in the most beautiful flared lace dress, she looked dazzling. She had a grin on her face, laughing at something John must have said as his arm was linked through hers, her father on her other side. He was stunned, wondering just how he had gotten so lucky to be marrying her. If he wasn't so nervous he'd have cried she looked that lovely, but instead he focused on her.

Even with her smile though he could tell she was just as nervous as him. He was thankful for that because at least they were in the same boat. If she was just as nervous as him they could fake bravery together. They were always better together after all, that was why they were getting married in the first place, and all his nerves went away the moment she looked up at him and met his eye. Her small smile of amusement grew to a grin, and as she offered him a joking wink he couldn't help but grin too. She looked as though she could never be happier, and any irrational fears he had for getting married were instantly replaced with a rush of love.

He loved her more than anything, so when she finally reached him he was relieved. That was until he came face to face with both John and Connie's father, both men looking a mixture of amused and protective.

"You better look after her," her father told him quietly.

"He will do," John said determinedly, raising his eyebrows at George as if he was challenging him, making Connie roll her eyes as she pulled herself free from both men.

"I don't need looking after, but of course he will," she muttered so only the four of them could hear before she properly turned to look at George. "Hello there,"

"Hello," he smiled back at her, and as the two other men went and sat down he took hold of her hand and whispered quietly to her, "You look beautiful,"

"Thanks, you too, or handsome or whatever," she laughed.

"If you're both about ready to start," the registrar said seriously.

The two of them nodded, turning to face him and trying to straighten their faces, though it seemed impossible. Now they were both together neither of them were worried, and they both struggled with the formality of the event, struggling to keep their laughter in. That was normally the best part of their relationship, how they knew each other so well they knew exactly how to make the other laugh and serious occasions were the best example of that. Even with that, their wedding wasn't the time to break into laughter with each other.

Every so often as the registrar was talking they'd glance at each other, George still holding Connie's hand. Neither of them were really listening, both of them far too focused on the other one to the extent Connie nearly missed the most important part; the vows.

"Miss Lennon if you wouldn't mind," the registrar said, getting her attention and making her look up at him from George wide-eyed. "If you wouldn't mind reciting the vows,"

"Oh yeah, sorry, course," she nodded, trying to ignore the laughter around her, not just from their guests but from George, smirking at her in amusement. Seeing George's expression made it even harder for her to fight off a grin of happiness as she turned to face him properly. "I, Constance Lennon-Jones, take you, George Harrison to be my husband. To have and to hold from this day forward, I promise to always be there for you throughout the rest of our lives, not just as your wife but as your best friend, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part,"

"God, I love you," George whispered so only she heard, wanting so badly to kiss her but knowing he had to wait a little while longer. With a grin, he spoke, "I, George Harrison, take you, Constance Lennon-Jones to be my wife. To have and to hold from this day forward, I will make sure you want for nothing as there is no one else I'd rather spend my life with, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part,"

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," he announced, and the two of them beamed at each other. "You may now kiss the bride,"

George didn't really wait to hear the last part. As soon as he'd heard Connie be referred to as his wife he moved his free hand to her cheek, planning on gently pulling her close before kissing her, but he didn't get chance as instead Connie practically leapt at him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders before pushing a kiss to his lips. Their guests all clapped, and there were a few cheers that were definitely from Paul, John and Ringo, though none of it mattered to either of them.

"Well this is different," George whispered with a smile, parting his lips from hers. "Mrs Harrison,"

"I always did think you had a nice surname," Connie whispered back, before kissing him again.

***

Word count: 5687

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