July 1969

Things in the band were getting tough. The cracks that had begun to show years before were deepening into chasms, and it was getting trickier for any of them to focus on what really mattered. Each night when they'd decided to throw in the towel and head home, sick of the petty and snide disagreements as well as playing the same songs over and over, George was exhausted. It was hard to separate business from their personal lives when all they'd been living the last few years was their career, not to mention it was hard to forget any arguments he'd had with the band, who were once more more like his brothers rather than colleagues. What was once exciting left him feeling downtrodden and bored, which made him feel more relieved than ever that he got to go home to his wife and daughter, the greatest possible distractions from the madness.

Since her first book was so successful - a number one bestseller, she liked to remind everyone - Connie had reduced her workload at the New Times. She went into the office three times a week and only worked on the more important articles, and the rest of her time she spent working from home, trying to work on her next book. Trying was of course a key word there, as most of her time in the day was spent looking after Josie, the eleven month old being rather time consuming as much as she was a joy. Connie couldn't complain though as whenever George was home he was great with her and she always managed to get some writing done, but in the last few weeks she'd noticed the change in George's temperament and how he rarely mentioned work anymore.

She tried to ask him about what was going on but he never really liked to talk about it, seeing home as the escape from all the stress of the Beatles. He didn't like to feel like he was bringing a negative energy home, because as young as she was he didn't want Josie to pick up on any tension, thinking that he was meant to protect her from that sort of stuff. He'd refuse to talk to Connie about any business things while ever their daughter was in the room, and whenever she was asleep he'd always manage to change the topic so seamlessly she barely realised he was doing it. It was annoying, and she wanted him to know that he could talk to her about his problems, but she didn't want to force him to talk if he really didn't.

Instead she just tried to make sure they had the best home life possible. The two of them were still madly in love, and they had Josie to love now as well, and the little girl was the greatest distraction from any sort of work troubles. She'd grown up way too fast over the last year, but she amazed them everyday with how clever she was. Connie always thought mothers were ridiculous when they praised their children with the generic labels, always wondering just how clever, caring or funny a baby could actually be, but that was before she had her own. She was biased, the fact that she was so easy and rarely cried possibly swaying her perspective, but Connie thought Josie was the greatest kid ever, and George definitely agreed.

Josie being so great was one of the reasons why being in the studio was so hard though, because as much as he loved making music, he just wanted to be with her. She changed a lot everyday, and sometimes he got in from the studio so late that she was already asleep and he didn't have the chance to say goodnight to her. Connie constantly reassured him that their girl adored him, but it wasn't the same as actually being there with her, which made him feel so glad that they'd not had her while the band was still touring, the thought of being so far away being unbearable.

That night as he got back to Kinfauns in the early evening, he thought he'd have missed Josie yet again. He had the night before, going in the living room to see Connie sleeping on the sofa surrounded by building blocks and children's storybooks. He felt bad that she was alone so much with her, so he had his fingers crossed that he'd made it back just in time.

He opened and closed the front door quietly just in case, not avoiding the noise on Josie's behalf since the little girl was such a heavy sleeper, but for Connie, knowing she'd probably be exhausted and might be asleep as well. Thankfully though he could hear voices, the bungalow seeming alive. They'd definitely outgrown their first home, and even though he'd mentioned moving to Connie she was far too sentimental to consider buying a bigger place, constantly saying that there were too many memories to leave behind. After all, it was the house they'd bought together, where he proposed, where Josie was born. The bungalow was a big part of their story.

He could hear Connie's voice in the living room, talking seriously to their daughter. George loved the way Connie was with Josie, so loving and caring with her, yet she talked her her properly as if she was her friend rather than her child. She'd once told him that her own mother had been like that and she'd always found it more fun and respectful, so she was clearly trying to mimic that in the hopes that it would help them grow a good relationship, not that she really had reason to overthink all of that. Connie was a really great mother, even if she didn't think she was, constantly worried that she'd make a mistake or upset Josie irreversibly, but she tried not to let her maternal worries get in the way of anything.

That was clear given how George found the two of them. Neither his wife or child had heard him come home, completely unaware that he was there, so he stood in the living room doorway watching with a small smirk as Connie was sat cross legged on the floor, too focused on Josie to notice George's arrival. Her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail wearing a pair of old jeans and a white buttoned shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and George couldn't help but think just how simple yet beautiful she looked. A grin on her face, she was talking animatedly to Josie who was sat in front of her, playing with one of the toy blocks that must have been left over from the block-castle Connie had built with her the night before, though she was clearly far more invested in what her mother was saying. Even if she didn't really know what Connie was talking about, Josie was clearly listening intently, hanging onto every word.

"So then Pussy Galore, we like her she's an absolute feminist icon, she has James on her plane and she flies him to Goldfinger's farm, she's working for the bad guy at this point but that's why we love her," Connie was explaining, and George had to hold back a slight laugh. "See, it it wasn't for her, James would be up a creak without a paddle. A lot of the male audience reckon she's just there as eye candy, but we're not buying into that, alright, girly? She saved the day of her own accord, not just cause she thinks James is a good looking bloke. He is, but that's besides the point,"

"Sorry, should I be jealous that you've just told our baby that Sean Connery is a good looking bloke?" George called in amusement, and Connie looked at him unfazed.

"I mean, he's no Clint Eastwood," she shrugged teasingly, before grinning at their daughter, getting up and swooping her up into her arms. "Look who's home, Josie girl!"

"Hey, baby!" George greeted Josie excitedly, grinning at how happy she looked to see him, letting out an excited squeal. As she reached out for him he took her off Connie, leaning over and pushing a kiss to his wife's forehead. "Is the plot of Goldfinger really the best bedtime story for her?"

"I'm going to lose my mind if I have to try and make something up or read one of those daft books for her," she stated seriously, before smiling at Josie, running her fingers through her thick dark hair in the hopes to neaten it. "Besides, we like Bond stories, don't we, girly?"

George laughed quietly, but he wasn't looking at Connie, instead focusing completely on their daughter, studying her face as if he was looking to see if she'd changed since he last saw her. It had only been a few hours, but it had been far too long. He knew he shouldn't be jealous of Connie getting to spend so much time at home with her all day, but she was at the age where she was changing so much, not looking like much of a baby anymore, turning more into a child. She still looked a lot like him with her dark eyes and dark hair, but she'd inherited Connie's nose and frizzy hair, so she had a head full of thick brown curls. They were both biased of course, but she was the most beautiful and perfect baby they'd ever seen.

"How's your day been?" Connie asked him, but he wasn't paying attention, instead listening to Josie as she gabbled at him excitedly, desperately trying to talk to him. "Are you pretending to talk to Jo just to avoid talking about the studio or are you genuinely that invested in her?"

"Little bit of both," George shrugged with a small smirk. "She talks more sense than everyone else I've spoke to today, other than you, obviously,"

With a small sigh Connie decided he didn't need to say anything else, his slight comment summing his day up pretty well. She wished things weren't as hard as they had been over the past few weeks, but she didn't want to get involved too much. It wasn't really her place, but she just hoped he knew he could talk to her whenever he needed to. She wasn't going to force the conversation, not when he was with Josie for the first time all day, so instead she wrapped her arm around his shoulder, kissing his cheek before she pushed a kiss to the top of Josie's head.

"It's nearly her bedtime, isn't it?" he asked quietly, glancing up to the clock, and as if on cue Josie yawned dramatically.

"Yeah, she should be all ready, do you want to do it?" she nodded, running her hands fingers through Josie's hair again. "I don't mind doing it if you're too tired, I already set the record player up-"

"Con, it's fine, I want to," he told her, leaning over and kissing her forehead. "You go do some writing or something, go write another book,"

"Another best-selling book," she reminded him teasingly before stroking Josie's hair, kissing the top of her head. "Goodnight, kiddo, I love you,"

With that George carried Josie off to the nursery, talking softly to her about something Connie couldn't quite hear, so instead of dwelling on how sweet their relationship was she did as he had advised, heading into the kitchen to sit at her typewriter. It was set up on the table as usual, notebooks and papers strewn across the table untouched, as they had been for the past few days. She'd not had much chance for writing the last few days since George was in the studio for such a long time, and as soon as she sat down in front of the typewriter she realised the break had been nice. Taking the occasional break helped her focus, but sometimes after spending all day with Josie she struggled to find the right words for what she had to write, especially that night in particular considering she could hear George playing for her.

Back when she had only been a few months old one night when she wouldn't settle, George had made the mistake of singing her to sleep. It had worked that night in particular, but it meant that she then refused to go to sleep until she'd heard her father play her a song good night. George didn't mind, he loved doing anything he could to make his daughter happy, but when he was working late at the studio it was a nightmare for Connie trying to get her to sleep. George kept one of his acoustic guitars in her room and Connie had resorted to moving the record player into the nursery as well for the regular nights that George wasn't at home. On those nights she had to play some of the more calming Beatles songs that George sang on, but instead of the record player Connie could hear the quiet hum of his guitar, normally a sound that helped her concentrate, but that night in particular she just wanted to be with her little family.

She'd been missing George all day, so it felt stupid to shut herself off in the kitchen trying to work. Pushing her chair back, she let out a small sigh, deciding that she'd just have to try and do double the work the next day while Josie was napping, and crept down the hallway, following the sound of George's guitar. It was a tune she'd never heard before, which confused her considering she prided herself on knowing each song George wrote. Most of his songs never made Beatles albums so she was proud that she was sometimes the only audience his work got, but this song was completely new, unheard even by her. She stopped outside the nursery door that was open only a crack, and through the darkness she could see George's silhouette sat cross-legged in front of Josie's cot, his guitar on his lap as he played what Connie thought was one of the most beautiful melodies she'd ever heard.

"You're asking me will my love grow I don't know, I don't know, you stick around now it may show, I don't know I don't know," he sang softly, unknowing that Connie was listening in. "Something in the way she knows and all I have to do is think of her, something in the things she shows me, I don't want to leave her now, you know I believe and how,"

Her bias as George's wife often meant that she thought George wrote the best songs, but she was certain that this new one was the most beautiful thing she'd ever heard. He continued on, playing the peaceful yet entrancing melody, singing the simple but powerful words, and Connie found herself in awe of his talent, endlessly proud of his musical gift. He'd definitely matured as a songwriter from the start of the Beatles, and she couldn't help but think that maybe this song was better than all the other love songs that had been on every album that had come before it. Maybe this song would prove him a worthy songwriter alongside John and Paul, maybe this song would prove just how amazing he actually was.

Connie was so caught up in her thoughts that she barely noticed when George was stood in front of her. She caught herself before she could make any noise at the surprise of him, stepping back quietly so he could shut the nursery door and not disturb Josie. He'd left his guitar in the nursery just incase he had to go back in, so with his hands free he immediately placed them on Connie's waist, pulling her close so he could kiss her.

"She's asleep," he told her quietly as soon as their lips parted, smiling softly as Connie moved to rest her forehead against his. "I've missed you today,"

"Me too," she sighed tiredly. "You're such a good Dad,"

"She makes it easy, she's such an amazing kid," he grinned, pulling out of their embrace to instead take hold of her hand, the two of them walking off towards the living room. "I can't believe we made her, she's actually perfect,"

"It's surprising, y'know, what with how much of a nightmare I am and how rebellious you were as a kid that she's so good," Connie laughed, especially as George faked offence at what she'd said. "Oh come on, you were seventeen and you ran off to Germany to work illegally!"

As they got into the living room, the two of them flopped down onto the sofa, George pulling Connie close to the point she was practically sat on his lap. She wasn't one for just sitting around while there were things to do, the room a mess of Josie's blocks and books, but the moment was so peaceful so she just wanted to relax and be with George. The memory of his song was still strong in her mind, and considering how tough work was for him lately she just wanted to enjoy being with him, her beautiful, talented husband.

"In my defence they never checked my visa right, and I hardly ran off since me parent's knew where I was going," he reminded her with a small laugh. "To be fair, she's not even one yet, there's still time for Josie to end up a perfect little nightmare, though the only way she'd ever properly rebel from me  would be if she tried to become a musician,"

"Ironic," Connie rolled her eyes teasingly before she moved her hand to play with his shaggy hair. "Speaking of the nightmare job of a musician, how's the album going?"

"Its... well, it's going," he sighed, at first seeming like he didn't want to talk about it before he turned to look at her properly, a frustrated look in his eye. "Paul's made us do about fifty takes on his hammer song again, and your sister-in-law's a nightmare, she keeps screaming while we're trying to record, Josie'd probably be quieter than Yoko,"

"She's not my fucking sister-in-law," Connie muttered annoyedly, rolling her eyes and trying not to get to wound up at the mention of John's wife who she still didn't have a great relationship with.

"It's funny, you get on with everybody," George said quietly, despite the fact his opinion was similar to Connie's.

"No, I get on with everybody who's polite and doesn't treat the Apple Corps workers like shit, and I get on with people who don't act like they're better than me," she explained annoyedly, feeling George squeeze her hand gently. "I don't care though, I don't wanna talk about her. If you've done about fifty takes of Paul's song does that mean you've not done one of yours? What about that one you were playing for Josie?"

"I didn't realise you'd heard it," George laughed awkwardly with a small shrug, as if she'd just exposed one of his deepest secrets. "Nah, I played it for them a few days ago and we're gonna record it tomorrow, I just thought I'd play it for me most important critic first... What did you think?"

"I thought it was beautiful," she told him honestly, making him look at her with a frown of disbelief. "Seriously, Georgie, it was the best song I've ever heard,"

"D'you really think so?" he asked with a small smile, and as she nodded enthusiastically he laughed, pushing a kiss to her forehead. "Well, I'm glad you like it. It is about you, after all,"

Connie froze, pulling out of their embrace slightly so she could look at him properly with a frown that soon became an expression of shock. He'd never written a song about her before, and if he had he'd never told her openly that it was about her, but she'd never expected him to anyway. As a writer herself she knew inspiration was a funny thing, and to think that she'd inspired him to write something like that was a surprise that made her want to cry.

"Are you kidding?" she practically gasped, unsure of what else to say.

"Course I'm not kidding, Con," he smiled at her, and as she looked at him she felt as though she was looking at the teenager on the school bus, the boy she'd fallen madly in love with all those years ago. "I wanted to write a song for you for ages, you're my wife. I'd sort of done ones that were about you before, they never covered everything I wanted to say or everything that I felt though, but this one just seemed to be right, are you sure you like it?"

"George," she breathed out, fighting tears as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him close. "It's about me, so I feel really arrogant calling it a masterpiece, but it is. It's the best song you've ever written, the best Beatles song, I love you so much,"

"Hey, don't cry, love," he told her, hugging her tightly, caught off guard by her emotional response. "I love you, I love our Jo too, and you deserve a masterpiece writing for you. You're the love of my life,"

Connie cried, feeling as though she was the luckiest woman in the world, especially as George began singing the song to her again softly. She felt so blessed, not just to be so in love with someone but to have that someone love her right back. The thought that this was the man she'd grown up with, the boy she'd known from the age of fourteen, and that man thought so highly of her made her feel as though her entire life had revolved around falling in love with him, that this was where her life was fated to be. She'd never expected someone to fall in love with her, let alone someone so caring and clever, someone so aware of the world around him that he knew exactly how to make her feel so safe and secure. It felt daft, but maybe this was where they were destined to be, with each other and contentedly in love.

Regardless of what was happening in their careers, as long as she had him, nothing else seemed to matter. No book or magazine, and no famous band seemed to come close to how important he was to her, and vice versa. Their daughter would get to grow up knowing how deeply her parents loved each other, and by extension love her too. She'd get to see what it means to love without fear and regrets, to know that someone was always there to look out for you. Connie was glad that she and George had that sort of love story, not just for their own sake, but for Josie's sake too, and the sake of their future children. 

"George," she said quietly as soon as he'd finished singing to her, wiping the tears out of her eyes with her thumb, deciding now was the best time to tell him what she'd been wanting to say all day.

"Yeah, love?" He replied, stroking her hair gently as she shifted her position to look at him properly.

"My period's late," she told him simply, watching as his eyes widened in shock and letting out a small laugh. "And I was really sick this morning after you left. I'm not getting my hopes up, but-"

"Do you think you're pregnant again?" He asked bluntly, sounding a mixture of surprised and excited.

"Maybe, I feel like how I did last time with Josie," she grinned, especially as George stared at her in blunt shock. "Are you okay?"

They'd not really discussed any more children, so of course he was going to be shocked. The two of them had just been focusing on Josie, not even considering another one, even if Connie had always wanted to give Josie a sibling. Her priority had always been making sure Josie was loved and provided for, but since she'd grown up as an only child she knew how lonely it could be, even if she found a makeshift sibling in John. George had grown up with siblings too, so did most of their friends, and she'd wanted that for Josie, she wanted her daughter to grow up with a family that wasn't just her parents, so even if Connie's nerves were telling her not to get her hopes up because of her history, she couldn't help but feel excited.

"Bloody hell, Con! Of course I'm okay, I'm better than okay!" George exclaimed, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace, pushing kiss after kiss onto her forehead, laughing in joy. "Fuck the album, I'm coming to the doctor's with you tomorrow and we'll find out for sure, alright? I love you so much, Con,"

They spent the rest of the night caught up in their happy little bubble, utterly in love with each other and the family they were building.

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Word count: 4199

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