Author's Note: This one was written by the afore mentioned friend for me via text. Rating at about T. And British slang/accented words are the best the two of us can do, having never been to Britain!

Proposal

John wasn't nervous. A tough guy like him didn't get nervous. No, he wasn't nervous; he was terrified.

John looked at the little black velvet box in his hand and sighed. He didn't have the courage for this. What if she turned him down? What if-

"Johnny? Ye wankin off in there or wha?" Paul's voice came from outside the door.

"No! Christ, Paul, 'm not always doin tha!" he exclaimed as he walked out to see his grinning friend, leaving the box on his bed.

"Well, after tonigh, ye won't have to, now, will ye? Ey, where's the ring?"

"I, er, I dunno if-"

Paul growled in frustration. "Lennon, we've been through this EIGHT TIMES today. She's not gonna say no, she's not gonna hate ye, she's not gonna stop talkin to ye. Hell, she'll probably start snoggin ye on the spot."

"Jus cos ye an Em did tha-"

Paul glanced at his watch and jumped. "Shite, John! We're gonna be late! Let's go!" He started dashing out to the car, John at his heels.

"Grab the ring, ye git!" Paul shouted, John having almost forgotten the thing the whole night was planned around.

He picked up the box and stared at it a second, trying desperately to think of Courtney as his wife to give him strength. It worked and he dashed out the door after Paul.

It was a posh place, and everyone else was having a great time. But all John could do was toy nervously with the box in his pocket.

Paul started talking about his and Emily's upcoming wedding, and Courtney's eyes flickered over to John.

That was all he needed.

He got off his chair, and down on one knee, fishing the little black velvet box and opening it to reveal an elegant silver ring.

"Courtney?" he started. Courtney's eyes had suddenly become much wider, and her mouth hung open a bit in shock. "I love ye more than anything in the world, an I want to spend the rest of me life by yer side. Would ye make me the happiest man in the world an marry me?" His voice wavered a bit at the end.

It couldn't have been more than a moment or two, but it seemed like forever to John before her face broke out in a smile and she nodded, unable to speak. John smiled back and stood up to kiss her, slipping the band on her finger as he did so. They stood for a while like that, consuming each other as they kissed.

"Get a room!" somebody called. John looked up to see his best mate smirking as Emily slapped his arm. John rolled his eyes and Courtney took his hand. Everything was wonderful.

"MCCARTNEY! STOP SNOGGIN YER BIRD FOR A TIC SO I CAN GET MARRIED, YEAH?" John yelled at his best man, who had managed to sneak off with his new wife yet again. John swore he was going to murder him. Paul was supposed to be helping him with this, not escaping away to snog. Emily was probably supposed to be keeping Courtney in check as well.

Suddenly, Paul appeared, straightening his bowtie and fixing his hair. "No need to shout. She had to go help the bride with her nervous breakdown anyroad."

"Why's SHE nervous?" John said, heart sinking, "Doesn't she want to do this?"

Paul rolled his eyes. "Course she does, ye git. She's probably worried cause of the same reason ye are, which I still don't understand."

But John had already turned to examine himself in the mirror one last time.

"I wasn't like this at me weddin. Ye're actin like a bloody bird," Paul muttered, "Ye ready yet?"

John let out a nervous sigh. "As I'll ever be."

Paul smiled an patted his friend's shoulder. "Gear, now go out there an make Courtney yer wife."

John smiled. She was worth it.