December 1965

It was a week until Christmas, and the last thing Brian Epstein expected was for George Harrison and Connie Lennon to request an urgent meeting with him. There they were though, sat in his office on the other side of his desk, the two of them sat so close they may as well have been sharing a seat, their hands intertwined tightly as if they were tethering each other to the earth.

Connie was wearing a grin as he came into the office, which wasn't anything out of the ordinary considering ever since she and George got together neither of them had stopped smiling, and it had been well over a year. George, however, seemed rather serious, as if he was there to talk business, and the mixture of moods between the two of them left Brian clueless as to what the couple could want.

"So, what's all this about?" he asked reproachfully as he sat down behind his desk, glancing at the two of them warily.

"I asked Connie to marry me," George announced, unable to hide his grin any longer, especially as Connie held her left hand up, displaying the simple engagement ring he'd gifted her two days previously.

Brian looked rather shocked, but he hid it well. It made sense after all, given the fact that the two were inseparable and had been ever since they started courting. It had been nearly two years, and they'd both been in love long before their relationship started. They were practically the perfect couple, and Connie fit in very well with the Beatles' image. Of course she'd been part of their inner circle since way before they made it big but since finding fame the inner circle was more like a family, or a cult, depending on how you looked at it. Connie fit in very well with the other band member's girls, and her close relationship to each member meant that she was the occasional exception to the 'no wives or girls' rule the band had.

She'd also proved to be rather crucial in creating and preserving their image. Having a connection to the biggest band in the world had done wonders for her career at the New Times, her contact list growing at every party or premiere or recording session she attended, but even as her career grew she always had the time to write on the Beatles. She'd started passing some of their content over for Ruby to write, afraid of being called biased or seeming to play favourites, but occasionally she would step in and cover important stories, those stories being the ones that the band needed to save their image. When other publishing houses wrote in fury at the boys getting MBEs when the honour was usually reserved for veterans, Connie wrote up coverage of them receiving the awards and had the magazine feature interviews from all four of them, and when John made his Jesus comment, she was straight to her typewriter and wrote up an explanation. Though people were still furious her article seemed to at least calm things down a little, to which they were all grateful.

Connie was a wonderful influence on George too. He seemed more mature, more careful, but at the same time more joyful. There had been devastation among the fans when they realised their 'quiet Beatle' was now taken, but she was in a privileged position where with her job she could help her own image, and what with interviews and paparazzi shots proving just how in love the couple were, fans were soon won over. The fans who had once asked Paul if he was going to get engaged to Jane Asher were now the ones asking George when he'd pop the question. Once upon a time George had said in an interview that he'd need more money and new suit before he could get married, but now he wasn't joking around, now he was serious, and he was in love.

Brian got up from his seat, leaning over the desk to shake both of their hands in congratulations, being truly happy for both of them, especially because he could see just how happy the pair of them were. Except as he did so, he thought about the marriages that had come before theirs, and as he realised what had made both John and Ringo's weddings similar he couldn't help but wonder if George and Connie were in the same situation.

"Congratulations, you two," he smiled as he took his seat again, before looking Connie over nervously, his eyes landing on her stomach. "Are you... Pregnant?"

"No!" Connie exclaimed, snorting out a nervous laugh, pulling her jacket around her tighter to hide her flat stomach. "Of course I'm not. Why would you think that?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to offend, it's just..."

"John and Ringo both had their birds knocked up before they got married," George shrugged as he remembered and Connie snorted out a laugh of realisation. "Though, you might not really remember the details of Ringo and Maureen's wedding,"

"Alright, I get it, you sound like John," she muttered, rolling her eyes as she remembered, or struggled to remember, just how drunk she had gotten at their best friends' wedding. "Well anyway, we were wondering if you'd be able to help us organise a wedding? We know you sorted out stuff for the other two,"

"Of course, dear, as soon as possible I'm assuming?" Brian asked them, and as George nodded, he continued. "I'll ring the registry office later today,"

The registry office wasn't particularly what Connie wanted to hear. Though she grimaced ever so slightly, it went unnoticed by the two other men in her presence, even George who knew exactly what sort of wedding she wanted.

***

Connie and George hadn't been home long when they both heard a knock at the door. They weren't expecting visitors, but technically they always were considering the fact that the Beatles and their girls had a tendency to go round to each other's houses constantly. It was as if they couldn't bare to be apart, because each of them and no one else in the whole world knew what it was like to be a Beatle, living a communal life that no one else understood, and usually Connie was grateful for that bond. It meant she got to see her best friends practically everyday, as if she was still a teenager waiting for them all to invite themselves round to her house.

It was George who opened the door as Connie was still sat at the kitchen table, working on an article about the greatest music releases of that year, but her focus was instantly disrupted as she felt someone ruffle her hair. With a scowl, she turned round to see John, grinning at her with an irritating glint in his eye, Cynthia stood slightly behind him with an apologetic smile on her face. Connie shot up from her seat and hit John's arm gently, rolling her eyes.

"What do you want?" she muttered before glancing over to Cynthia with a smile. "No offence, lovely to see you obviously, Cyn,"

"What's up with you, swine? Normally you're thrilled to see me," John asked, looking offended with a smug look in his eye.

Connie didn't answer, instead leading the two of them through to the living room, sitting on the arm of George's arm chair, putting her hand on his shoulder as he lent over and kissed her cheek. John pretended to throw up as he saw the couple's affection, as he always did much to their annoyance.

"What's up with her?" John asked George as he threw himself down onto their sofa, gesturing over to Connie who shot a glare to her cousin.

"We went to see Brian about the wedding this morning and he said he's gonna book us in at the registry office in Surrey, and Con's not thrilled," George explained, glancing up at his future wife. "He did say that it'd be easier to avoid attention that way though,"

"He has got a point," Cynthia attemted to reason with Connie, but everyone in the room knew Connie wasn't easy to reason with, especially when she was upset; that was something both the Lennon's had in common. "What would you have preferred?"

Connie wasn't even sure what she'd have preferred. She'd never even thought she'd get married. For a long time she never even considered her romantic future, but that was probably because for a long time she never let herself consider George as a romantic partner. By restricting her emotions she restricted her ideas for the future. Now it had come though, she didn't know what she wanted. As long as she was getting married to George, she didn't care. Marrying him, the man she considered her true love, was all that mattered, but part of her couldn't help but dislike the idea of getting married in London.

She'd been living in London for nearly six years, and it finally felt like home now she was living with George, but her heart would always call her back to Liverpool. It's where she'd been born, where she'd lived with her parents and grown up with the lads, and part of her knew it would always be where she belonged, so she couldn't help but wish she would get married in their home city. Back home was where she still felt connected to her long-gone mother, and it seemed only fitting to marry George there, since it was the place the two of them had fallen and professed their love for each other. Except it was impossible, to the extent it wasn't even seen as an option, something that hurt Connie ever so slightly.

"It's not like I want a big fancy wedding or owt," she shrugged, not wanting to sound spoilt or stubborn. "I just wanted to get married at home but I don't think anyone even considered it as an option,"

"Bloody 'ell, Con, it'd be chaos if the two of you got hitched in Liverpool, there'd be girls lining the streets sobbing from Forthlin Road all the way to Albert's Docks, not to mention the crowd around the registry office would be worse than a riot! And besides, Ringo and Maureen got married in London and you didn't see them complaining about it," John pointed out before he began to laugh. "Not that you'd remember!"

"I didn't mean to get that drunk!" Connie exclaimed, letting out a frustrated sigh as she heard both George and Cynthia try to stifle their laughter. "I'm sick of you bringing that stupid story up,"

"I'll stop bringing it up when it stops being funny," John shrugged with a smirk. "What is there at home that isn't here now? It's not like you'd be missing anything,"

He did have a point. Ever since the Beatles had relocated down south Connie struggled a lot less with her homesickness as it turned out as much as she loved the city she didn't miss Liverpool as much as she missed her friends. The only people really left up North was her father and Florence since even Cilla had moved to London to help her recording career. Those who mattered to her could always come down to visit for the wedding, and so Connie couldn't help but wonder if the odd longing she felt to get married in Liverpool was a bout of nostalgia.

Her wanting to go and get married in Liverpool was probably just her wanting to go back to the time. George proposing was wonderful, but it had made her realise just how old they were getting. No longer were they the school kids meeting on the bus, the mates going round to each other's houses for tea, mates walking round the docks secretly in love with each other. No, they weren't kids anymore, they were homeowners with careers, one of them being an iconic celebrity known around the whole world, and soon they would be husband and wife. It was thrilling and exciting and Connie couldn't wait because she truly did love George, but it was also terrifying. Maybe the thought of getting married in Liverpool was just something she found reassuring, because as much as their lives were changing, everything seemed so simple when they were at home in Liverpool.

Things still were simple though. She loved George, and she wanted to marry him and become Connie Harrison-Lennon. Nothing about getting married had to be scary, she realised as she glanced down at the engagement ring on her left hand and then looked back up to George. It didn't really matter what happened on the day, as long as the two of them got married.

"Think I'm just being dramatic really," she sighed, shooting a smile at George as she squeezed his shoulder, her fiancé putting his hand on her knee, until she glanced over to John, raising her eyebrow. "And don't you dare say something clever,"

"Wasn't going to say a word," John gasped, pretending to be offended.

"Have you thought about anything else for the wedding?" Cynthia decided to change the conversation, knowing what the Lennon's were like when they started bickering. "What are you going to wear?"

"I dunno, I was gonna ask Florence to design me something, last time I was in her shop she had all these amazing wedding dresses that she'd been making so I was just gonna see if she could do me something similar," Connie explained, remembering the laced wedding dress that had caught her eye in the Penny Lane shop a few years before, making a mental note to call her best friend about the dress.

"Yeah but more importantly, have you decided who your best man's gonna be, Geo?" John asked, and all eyes fell to George, who struggled to hide the guilty expression that crossed his face. "Oh, God's sake, George! Not bloody Ringo?"

"No, not Ringo!" George exclaimed quickly before looking between Connie and John nervously. "I was actually going to ask Paul, since y'know, he introduced us and practically set us up. Seems only fair really,"

"That was ten bloody years ago!" John exclaimed jokingly, but only Connie who'd known him all her life knew him well enough to see the slight disappointment in his expression.

"Well I have something to ask you," Connie began, shifting in her seat so she was closer to John who was looking at her reproachfully. "You know how my mum used to think that the tradition of the bride belonging to her father was a load of bullshit and that if anything the bride should be given away by both parents?"

"And then she went and eloped with a strange soldier that she'd only known for three weeks in France?" John cut in, raising an eyebrow teasingly.

"It was six weeks actually," Connie let out a small laugh before she became serious again, feeling George squeeze her leg reassuringly, knowing she still got emotional over her mother. "Well, if Mum was here now I know she'd be blowing a fuse wanting to give me away with Dad, but she's not, so I was wondering if you'd take her place? What do you say, Johnny, will you help walk me down the aisle?"

John seemed to freeze at her question, any witty remark or sarcastic expression forgotten as he grew serious, his face falling as he cocked his head to the side, as if he was trying to figure out if Connie was being serious. She widened her eyes at him, waiting for him to answer, wondering just why he remained silent.

"Yeah, go on then," John nodded after a moment, his voice shaking slightly, and Connie frowned, not sure she could ever remember John being like that before.

"I mean, you don't have to, it was just an idea," she shrugged, feigning casual when really she wanted nothing more than for her cousin who was more like her brother to have a role in her wedding.

"No, no, bollocks to it, Con, of course I bloody will," he said simply, his voice sounding thick as if he was fighting off his emotions, and Connie noticed Cynthia glance over at him, putting her hand on his knee reassuringly.

Connie grinned, jumping up from her seat  and going over to the sofa, wrapping her arm around John's shoulder. He ruffled her hair, letting out a groan of annoyance but she knew he was faking it, trying to keep up his usual no nonsense façade. The façade didn't matter to her though, she'd seen through it plenty of times growing up, and he was the closest thing she ever had to a brother. Ever since she'd read the letter her mother had left her she always made sure to look out for John. Her mother's letter had told her to have his back and make wonderful memories with him, and there'd be nothing more wonderful to Connie than have him help give her away.

Things were changing, where they'd come from in Liverpool seeming light-years away, but life was still good, and Connie was still happy.

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Word count: 2874

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