A/N: The wedding chapter! :D I had finals this week (I'm done now, hallelujah!) so I didn't have time to look up how the wedding vows are actually supposed to go. I've got as close a rendition as I can. Poetic license, okay?
I had this written for ages, I was just so busy studying for finals that I couldn't get it posted. :(
I wondered what most people would say if they knew I was engaged to my songwriting partner. Probably nothing good, that was for certain. So that was why no one knew except George and Ringo. I believe Brian eventually got wind of it as well. We'd learned our lesson previously and accorded our more trustworthy friends the courtesy of knowing everything they needed to know about our relationship. Although, I think our bandmates had accidentally learned more than they'd ever needed or wanted to a few times.
It was the morning of the day John and I had decided to get 'married'. It wouldn't be a real ceremony, it wouldn't actually count as a really marriage, hell, it would be in our hotel on the last night of our tour. To cover up the fact that our 'honeymoon' would be in Paris, we were all flying to Paris under the pretense of a weeklong vacation. What the general public was not aware of was that Ringo and George were staying on the floor below John and I with their wives while we shared a room. To the hotel desk manager, we passed it off as a songwriting break for the Lennon/McCartney team, who needed some space to work their magic.
"Oi, Macca!" Ringo's voice echoed through our hotel room. My head snapped up. I'd been sitting on my bed, turning my ring over and over in my hands. I couldn't wear it, but I always had it in my pocket, wearing it where I knew I wouldn't be seen by unsympathizing eyes. There had been a few times where I'd nearly forgotten to take it off.
"Yeah?" I called, shaking my head to clear it.
"Your arse should've been out here by now, move it!" he responded good-naturedly.
"Oh, sure," I joked, coming out. "The one time you're not the last one out the door, I catch all the blame."
"Yep, c'mon!" I shook my head and grinned. This band, I thought. I hope we stay together forever.
I was just walking out the door, rubbing the last sleep grit from my eyes, when a hand pulled me back into the room behind the door. John's eyes glittered in the poor lighting. I felt a small grin creep up my face. If I were a cartoon in a comic strip, I was sure there would be comical little pink hearts replacing my eyes and floating around my head. "What?" I asked.
"Nothin'." He shook his head, kissing me softly. "Just got tonight on my mind is all."
"Me too," I replied, squeezing his hand and exiting the hotel room, hurrying to catch up with the rest of our group. "I love you," I whispered while we walked.
"I love you most," he responded, a smirk making one eyebrow raise. I rolled my eyes, shoving at his arm playfully.
"Not this again, you know I always win," I said, getting in the car and settling in with George on one side of me and John on the other. He rested one hand on my thigh, just above me knee. A hot bolt of energy made my skin ultra-sensitive there.
"Lies, such lies," he said confidently. "Because if my memory serves me correctly, I won this argument the last time."
I twisted to look him in the eye. "Really? How poor your memory is, sir!" I adopted a posh accent, blinking rapidly and puffing my cheeks out for effect.
"Beg pardon, sirs," George said in a dryly ironic voice. "But we've just come to our destination and I'm sure the people will get antsy lest we address them."
"Too right, too right," John grumbled pompously. "Off we get then, lads. Shall we give 'em a show to remember?"
If none of us ended up with hearing loss later in life, it would be a miracle of epic proportions. It was a mystery to the entire band how the girls could scream uninterrupted for so long. Maybe it was just the fact that there were so many of them, but at times it seemed like they never drew a breath. Unless of course they fainted, which wasn't unusual. Every so often, I'd look into the crowd and see a girl getting carried off on a white stretcher by a couple of muscular security guards. Now, I was clearly no teenage girl, but somehow, fainting during a concert you paid to go see because you basically forgot to breathe didn't sound like altogether too much fun to me.
Before our last song, John waved at the audience. "Thanks very much for being such a great audience. We're gonna sing one more song I think..." he trailed off and looked at me for confirmation. Forgot the show order again, I see,I said through a look and nodded. He scrunched up his nose at me before continuing. "...Yeah, one more song. I believe it's one you all know very well and if you'd stand, clap your hands, stomp your feet, really, whatever tickles your fancy."
It's been a hard day's night
And I've been working like a dog
It's been a hard day's night
I should be sleeping like a log
But when I get home to you
I find the things that you do
Will make me feel alright.
You know I work all day
To get you money to buy you things
And it's worth it just to hear you say
You're going to give me ev'rything
So why on earth should I moan
'Cause when I get you alone
You know I feel ok
When I'm home ev'rything seems to be right
When I'm home feeling you holding me tight, tight, yeh
It's been a hard day's night
And I've been working like a dog
It's been a hard day's night
I should be sleeping like a log
But when I get home to you
I find the things that you do
Will make me feel alright.
Owww!
So why on earth should I moan
'cause when I get you alone
You know I feel ok
When I'm home ev'rything seems to be right
When I'm home feeling you holding me tight, tight, yeh
It's been a hard day's night
And I've been working like a dog
It's been a hard day's night
I should be sleeping like a log
But when I get home to you
I find the things that you do
Will make me feel alright.
You know I feel alright
You know I feel alright
Back at the hotel, Ringo and George cleared off under the pretense of having a game of cards with Brian, Mal, and Neil. They probably would end up playing cards—not poker, they'd all learned the hard way that Ringo was the best poker player by a long shot—but that wasn't the reason they left. They were being considerate and giving us our moment alone.
I stepped into the bathroom and carefully pulled my best suit on, straightening the black silk lapels and tugging at the pants so the creases hung straight. No one but John would see me, but even if it was a wedding before three hundred people his opinion would be the only one I'd care about. Which was why I made sure no piece of my suit was out of place. My thin black tie was straight and neatly tied and on the ring finger of my left hand was the ring. It sat more heavily on my finger than usual, as though it were reminding me of what was to happen. Like I could forget.
Suddenly, my hands began to shake. Why was I so nervous? I'd wanted this to happen for so long! Taking a long, deep breath, I squared my shoulders and faced myself in the mirror. "C'mon, Paulie," I whispered to myself. "No reason to be nervous, is there? None at all. Now get out there." It seemed like it took all my strength to get the door open. My legs went into autopilot, carrying me steadily to the main room of the hotel suite. The lights were off, but candles scattered here and there gave off a war, glowing light.
"You took your time." John was standing by the closed curtains of the window. I felt my knees go wobbly at the sight of him. His unruly auburn hair was combed neatly, a rare thing, and a genuine smile made his warm brown eyes sparkle in the light. His suit was clean and his tie was actually tied straight with no help. I sucked in air, feeling like my lungs were collapsing.
I grinned back, my heart pumping erratically. "Don't I always?" I asked with a cheeky wink.
"I think I'll be an adult and not mention the fact that you've just presented me with a very obvious innuendo which is just asking to be mentioned," he said, one eyebrow raised.
"That's a first," I chuckled, stepping forward, close enough to smell John's cologne. He'd purposefully worn the kind he knew made me crazy. The bugger.
"Your statement wounds me," he murmured, taking both of my hands in his. "But as it's not a mortal wound, I suppose we can continue."
He dropped one of my hands to retrieve a little black book from the table next to us. The wedding vows.
"Ladies and gentlemen... or lack thereof," John amended, smirking. "We are gathered to here today to witness the union of James Paul McCartney and myself, John Winston Lennon, in not altogether holy matrimony." I should have known he'd insert his personality in the vows. I'd be deluding myself if I thought otherwise. And yet, it made it feel more real because of it. It reassured me it was indeed John standing before me and not some angel dropped to Earth.
We went through the ceremony until we came to the final vows. "I'll skip the question and say that, yes I, John Winston Lennon, do take you, James Paul McCartney for my unlawfully wedded husband. In sickness and in health, in good times and bad, for richer or poorer, for better or worse, 'til death do us part." I felt tears stinging my eyes, clogging my throat and making it nearly impossible to speak. "And do you, James Paul McCartney take me, imperfect, cheeky me, John Winston Lennon to be your unlawfully wedded husband?" His voice cracked and I looked up to see one crystalline tear fall from his eye. "In sickness and in health, in good times and bad, for richer or poorer, for better or worse... 'til death do us part."
Some tears made their escape down my cheeks, tracing hot patterns on my skin. "I do," I whispered. "Except, while you're bloody cheeky, you're perfect to me."
John blinked rapidly for a moment, completely silent. He clutched my hand with one of his and pulled two gold rings out of his pocket. I slid one onto his finger and he one onto mine. "Well then," he drew out the two words, voice still a little choked with emotion. "Kiss me already, won't you?"
"John," I mumbled in halfhearted protest, which disappeared as soon as his lips made contact with mine with a warm, insistent pressure. His hands ghosted up and down my back, making me shiver and press even closer to him, tracing the tip of my tongue across his bottom lip. All in all, that may have been the most indecent wedding kiss in the history of wedding kisses.
We sat in the armchairs in the room and drank champagne from room service in a sort of imitation reception. I stared at the gold band on my finger, pulling it off and reading the inscription. We'd picked them out previously. Mine said, My morning, my noon, my night, my love. John's said, When life happens, so too can love.
And, lo and behold, it can.
A/N: Ehehehe, this was so much fun to write, even though it took way too long to post. Stupid final exams. Urgh. But I am now officially on summer break, so maybe more writing! Except I'll be in New Orleans beginning Friday for one week.
Review? ;)