Fic: Something Old, Something New...
Title: Something Old, Something New...
Author: laughter_now
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy, Chapel/OMC
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I really don't own anything related to Star Trek. I'm just borrowing.
Warning: Excessive schmoop. Don't say I didn't warn you.
Summary: Jim loved to officiate weddings. He'd never openly admit it, of course, but Leonard knew for a fact that somewhere deep down, in a place so hidden that even Jim didn't know where it was tucked away most of the time, James T. Kirk was a romantic sap.
I know I should be writing AsQ, but this bunny attacked me and didn't let go untilI agreed to write it.
I decided that for the sake of this story, Christine Chapel's fiancé Roger doesn't exist in the reboot universe.
And without further ado, we go on to the story.
Enjoy!
Something Old, Something New...
Jim loved to officiate weddings.
He'd never openly admit it, of course, but Leonard knew for a fact that somewhere deep down, in a place so hidden that even Jim didn't know where it was tucked away most of the time, James T. Kirk was a romantic sap.
It didn't come out often, thank God. Leonard wouldn't know what to do if it was a constant in their relationship. The whole thing about coming up short on high romantic expectations had already been a trademark of one of the two noteworthy relationships in his life; he most certainly didn't need to maneuver through that particular minefield again.
But it was an undeniable fact that whenever he was asked to officiate a wedding, Jim got completely excited about it. Leonard was intelligent - not to mention experienced - enough never to comment on it, but seeing Jim prepare for holding a wedding was enough to give a dentally healthy man cavities. And yes, he knew exactly that if he ever happened to say that out loud, he and his right hand would spend a number of very lonely nights on the extremely uncomfortable sofa. And that was something he could definitely do without, thanks a lot.
Besides, it was…adorable, in a scary and somewhat disturbing way. And no, of course there was nothing wrong with Jim being happy when two members of the crew decided to tie the knot. Way of the world and all that. Jim just took it a little over the top at times. Was it normal that he was rehearsing his speech for the ceremony? Maybe not. But up to three times a day was definitely way too much in Leonard's educated opinion. Especially when he was asking for Leonard's opinion on something, and then later on complained that phrases like 'you better be damn sure about this, kid' wasn't the appropriate vernacular for such a ceremony.
But Jim enjoyed himself, and as long as all the sap stayed contained to the wedding preparations and didn't spill over into their relationship - which worked perfectly fine without moonbeams and roses and all that other crap, thank you very much - then Leonard wasn't going to complain. Besides, it wasn't as if marriages were happening left and right. They were a few weeks shy of their four-year mark on the Enterprise, and this was going to be the fourth couple Jim was going to marry.
Leonard could live with Jim getting romantically distracted once a year.
Also, if everything went smoothly and the party was good, those wedding nights saw Leonard having some of the best sex of his life, and he didn't even need to marry to get it.
So all in all, he couldn't really protest against the occasional wedding.
And he didn't wish upon those happy loving couples what had happened to him, but one could most certainly not hold Leonard's own opinion on marriage against him. He knew what he was talking about, after all. Been there, done that, still paying the alimony. Leonard definitely had his bubble burst as far as the romantic notion behind marriage was concerned.
But let the kids have their fun, the daily grind and the disillusionment were going to get to them soon enough. They didn't need him to speed up the process or burst their bubbles, that was all going to happen by its own, in its due time.
Normally, aside from those evenings before the ceremony when Jim was going crazy with his PADD and a thesaurus, Leonard wasn't really affected by the wedding preparations. Even during the ceremony he could just blend into the background and wait for the part of the celebrations that included the open bar.
This time however, he didn't have that choice.
Leonard was thrilled for Christine, he really was. And she could have done a lot worse than Lieutenant Martin Parker. He should have seen that one coming, actually. Nobody pulled double shifts on the most boring science project known to man if there wasn't some sort of personal incentive behind it. But really, Leonard was happy for his head nurse. Christine seemed happy, which was the main thing, of course, and Parker doted on her. Had a completely clean bill of health, too, and Leonard had double checked. So it wasn't as if he had anything against that marriage per se.
Unfortunately, Christine was somewhat traditional when it came to marrying. She only intended to do it once in her life, after all, a remark upon which Leonard wisely turned around so that she didn't see his eye-roll. He wasn't going to give her the statistics on marriage and divorce rates amongst Starfleet personnel who were stationed together. Leonard might be blunt and hold no reservations in stating his opinion, but he had enough sense of self-preservation to not enrage the one person who could make his working life a living hell if she so desired. Besides, that wasn't the point. The point was that Christine wanted a traditional marriage, and what Christine Chapel wanted, she was dead-set on getting. That included the walk down the aisle, and being given away at the altar.
And in the strange movie titled "Christine's getting married" which Leonard had been cast in without his knowledge and against his will, it apparently was a perfectly logical plot device to ask him to stand in for that role in lieu of her deceased father.
Which, admittedly, made Leonard feel honored. Saying no had never been an option. Even if it hadn't been for Christine's pleading puppy eyes, there was still the romantically hardwired Jim to consider, who Leonard knew wouldn't hesitate to use withdrawal of sexual favors in order to change Leonard's mind. Besides, Leonard liked Christine, he really did. If he could make her happy by walking her down that aisle, who was he to disagree?
He should have known. Experience should have taught him that just the thought about marriage replaced otherwise perfectly sane women with strange and obsessed creatures. Rational thought was completely turned off in that pre-marriage phase, and the strangest and most obscure things suddenly gained a shocking amount of importance.
Worse. Apparently, Leonard had missed a clause in the contract when he signed up for the role of walking Christine down the aisle. He had seen it as a five-minute involvement in the entire proceedings, but apparently his head nurse had different ideas.
She wanted his input.
Leonard was a doctor, damn it, not a wedding planner. He had no opinion on flower arrangements. None. At. All.
For his own marriage, he had been content to just let Jocelyn handle all of these questions. He had merely nodded his agreement when her voice sounded excited about something, and tried not to put his foot in his mouth not too often. It had worked, and in all honesty Leonard couldn't have given a damn about whether or not they were having pink roses or white lilies at the reception.
Christine didn't leave him that chance. She wanted Leonard's opinion on things and wouldn't take a non-committal grunt as an answer.
He was convinced that Dante's vision of the inferno was missing one circle, and that eternal wedding preparations were going to be of great importance there.
And it didn't stop at things like botanical contemplations. No. Because apparently Leonard hadn't paid enough penance for whatever shortcomings he was being punished for with this. The degree of what exactly he had signed up for revealed itself only bit by bit.
Rehearsals.
And really, who in their right mind rehearsed marriage?
It wasn't as if it was difficult, either. The basic concept was very simple, actually.
Jim was going to give his speech with all those synonyms for love, devotion and eternity that he had looked up in the thesaurus - a speech he refused to give at the rehearsal because he didn't want to, quote/unquote, spoil the surprise - and then bride and groom both had to say 'yes' at the appropriate moment. A moment which was kinda hard to miss even without the rehearsal, because frankly, it was the only moment during the entire ceremony when the happy couple was asked anything directly. Other than that, there was the Pavlovian reflex to the word 'kiss', and it was all over and done with.
In Leonard's experience, one didn't really need to rehearse that part, especially since once it came down to it, the ceremony was mostly going to pass by the happy couple, anyway.
But they rehearsed. Oh yes, they rehearsed. Leonard had no idea how many dry runs down the aisle Jim forced them to make until his and Christine's vision of the perfect walk had come true. Because yes, all that hidden romantic sap had spilled over at the mere mention of the word 'wedding', and now Jim was a willing participant in the whole planning phase. The traitor.
Leonard's complaints about how all those dry runs were pretty damn pointless anyway since the one run that was going to count for something was going to happen somewhere else entirely were ignored. Repeatedly. Even though it was a complete waste of time to rehearse walking down an imaginary aisle on the Observation Deck when the actual marriage wasn't even going to happen on the ship.
No, because marrying aboard the Enterprise would have been entirely too easy.
As Starfleet Captain, Jim could legally officiate marriages aboard the ship, of course. But that power stretched farther, and all marriages Jim officiated on Federation soil were legal. So that meant he could officially marry couples on all Federation planets. As it turned out, Risa was a Federation planet. And it just happened that Christine had always wanted a wedding on the beach.
Jim was positively ecstatic about the idea, and Leonard was slowly getting worried about his lover's enthusiasm for all things marriage. Once Christine and her husband-to-be had said the words, he was going to make sure Jim's daily dose of romantic indulgence was going to be reduced to normal levels again. Immediately. Romantic cold turkey. It was for Jim's own wellbeing, and for Leonard's peace of mind.
But before that, they had to get the actual wedding part done. Timing the wedding date with a convenient shore leave on Risa wasn't that hard a task when the person aboard who decided about shore leaves was fully immersed in the whole wedding plans, anyway.
Leonard experienced more than a few moments of unexpected bonding with Lieutenant Parker during which they could only look on in amazement - and admittedly more than just a little fear - as Jim and Christine planned the living daylights out of this wedding. A couple of glasses of Leonard's emergency stash of Saurian brandy took the edge off the worst moments, and to be honest it was good to know that Leonard wasn't the only one who felt like this whole thing was spinning just a little out of control.
And yes, actually having a dress code that went according to a color scheme was over the top, no matter what Jim thought on the matter.
Leonard could appreciate that a wedding party all dressed in white clothes against the backdrop of a beach scenery would make for nice wedding pictures. Not that anybody ever looked at those pictures again once the first high of being married had worn off. Besides, if he wasn't a wedding person, he most definitely wasn't a beach kind of person. Not to mention that aside from some old t-shirts, he didn't own a single piece of white clothing.
But were any of his concerns on the matter heard? No, of course they weren't.
Which was why, two days before the wedding date, Leonard found himself in a tailor's shop on Risa, helplessly watching as a tailor of unidentified species measured parts of his anatomy Leonard hadn't known needed measuring for a simple pair of pants and a shirt. Jim found it highly entertaining. Of course the smug bastard did. Leonard watched with openly admitted satisfaction how that smug grin vanished from Jim's face as it was his turn to get fondled when the tailor started taking measurements.
Although Leonard had to admit that the tailor knew what he was doing, and the clothes were not half bad. White definitely wasn't his color, but it was one step above the uncomfortable dress uniform. And that was something.
Still, it was a lot of work and preparations for a wedding that could have been over and done with in fifteen minutes if they had just held it on the Observation Deck. Not that anybody ever listened to him when Leonard tried to point that small matter out.
They were stuck with the beach wedding, and nothing was going to change Christine's mind about it.
And really, in the end it didn't turn out that bad. Christine was a beautiful bride, and once they got down to the actual wedding, the groom seemed just as thrilled about this whole thing as she was, all his previous concerns forgotten. So Leonard most definitely wasn't going to rain on their parade, especially since there was going to be an open bar once the whole official part of the ceremony was over and done with.
And Christine was positively radiant as Leonard led her down the - extremely sandy - aisle. Radiant enough that Leonard vowed to swallow any comment about how damn useless all those dry runs on the Observation Deck had been in preparation for this. Christine was happy with how things were going, that was the main thing.
He handed Christine over at the altar, with a carefully raised eyebrow and a pointed scowl directed at the groom, just to let Peters know whose bad side he'd be getting on if he didn't take this marriage at least as seriously as Christine did. With his official involvement in the wedding thus over and done with - the dance Christine had made him promise her didn't count because he was going to find a way to weasel out of that one - Leonard sat down and allowed his mind to drift off.
Not out of disrespect for the happy couple, or out of boredom, really not. It was just that, for him at least, Jim was overshadowing the rest of the ceremony.
Two days ago, Leonard had been ready and willing to curse Christine for implementing a dress code. But admittedly, not everything about it was bad. Watching Jim as he stood facing the assembled crew, PADD in hand, Leonard really learned to appreciate what the clothes were doing to Jim.
By all rights, white clothes shouldn't look this so good on someone as pale as Jim was, but they did. Oh yes, they did. They made him look strangely transparent, almost ethereal. And gosh, they couldn't tell him that there wasn't anything in the air here on Risa, because such soppy words normally didn't dare to even enter Leonard's thoughts. But it was true. With the white clothes and his rather pale skin, Jim's eyes seemed to shine even brighter than they normally did, and his hair was glowing in the sunlight.
It had to be the setting, as well. The beach scenery was beautiful as far as those went, and the sun shining down on Jim's blond hair created the treacherous illusion of a halo-like glow around his head. It wasn't windy, but just a few feet away from the surf there was a constant soft and gentle breeze tugging at the clothes of the three people standing in front of the assembled guests.
Admittedly, Leonard didn't have much attention to spare for either Christine or Lieutenant Parker. The top button of Jim's shirt was undone, and at some point over the past minutes the bottom button had slid open, as well. The first time the gentle gust of wind caught the hem of Jim's shirt and lifted it slightly, exposing the pale expanse of skin below, Leonard lost focus on the actual wedding proceedings from one second to the next.
Damn it, he would bet that Jim had helped that button to 'accidentally' come undone. Leonard doubted that anybody besides him noticed, but the flapping of Jim's shirt in the soft breeze and the occasional tantalizing glimpse of skin beneath the white fabric was mesmerizing. Leonard knew what it felt like to run his hands over the skin of Jim's stomach, to feel the hard muscles underneath the surprisingly soft skin quiver at his touch, to run his hands over and over again across the thin trail of hair running down from Jim's navel to vanish underneath the waistband of his pants. Leonard knew what it was like to touch Jim's skin with hands and tongue, and if he closed his eyes he could almost taste the slightly salty tang of the soft skin on his lips.
He needed to focus. It wasn't going to do if Leonard ended up sitting through the wedding of his direct subordinate with a raging hard-on. Especially since those white pants weren't made for hiding certain physical conditions.
Not that it was easy. Not at all. The winds were conspiring against him, in the most evil of ways. In addition to the teasing reveals of Jim's skin, the wind pressed the loosely fitting pants and shirt tight against Jim's body. After all these yeas, Leonard knew the outlines of Jim's body so well that he could trace them blindly. He knew what it was like to run his hands along Jim's body from top to bottom, to cover it and wrap himself around that firm shape like his skin were the only clothes Jim's body was ever going to need.
It was just the wind blowing against Jim's clothes, but somehow the moment had become so sensual and enticing that Leonard had to tear his eyes away and force his mind to listen to the proceedings before it became too much.
He had known before that Jim was a damn good looking bastard, something Leonard was always aware of on a subconscious level. But it were moments like this when the realization suddenly hit him full force. It took his breath away whenever it happened, and always, a small voice inside Leonard's head wondered what he had done to deserve this man. He never lingered on those thoughts for too long, because he damn well wasn't going to think something this good to death. If there was one thing Leonard McCoy had learned, then that sometimes you just had to be grateful for the good things in your life and not worry about whether you had deserved them in the first place.
Besides, today was Christine's big day. And he wasn't going to ruin that by letting his mind drift into the gutter. And even more importantly, he wasn't going to let the admittedly romantic mood of this beach wedding infect him with any more sappy thoughts. He was well over his romance quota for the remainder of the year, and he most certainly didn't want to overdose.
Leonard managed to focus his thoughts in time to witness the exchange of the vows and rings, and to see the wink in his eye as Jim told Lieutenant Peters to kiss the bride. Peters did, with enthusiasm if Leonard had any right to judge these things, and Leonard had to admit that this whole wedding hadn't turned out to be that bad at all. Of course those accursed winds had to blow sand into his eyes just as the newlywed couple broke the kiss and held onto each other as if they never wanted to let go. At least, that's what Leonard told himself, because there could be no other explanation as to why he was tearing up all of a sudden. He wasn't a romantic sap like Jim, after all.
Besides, the crowd was cheering, Christine and Peters were walking down the aisle again - and wasn't Leonard grateful that he had talked Jim out of the insane idea to have Keenser throw flowers since the crew lacked any kids they could abuse for the position of flower girl or boy - towards the tent that had been erected for the celebrations. The official part was over, now it was time for the party. And that was something Leonard felt far more qualified for than the romantic exchange of vows.
Unerringly, as if he was following an internal beacon forever tuned into Leonard's location, Jim was at his side, arm sneaking around his waist.
"You looked as if you were half a galaxy away for most of the ceremony," Jim said as they followed bride and groom as well as the rest of the crew towards the open tent flaps.
"Might not have happened if you knew how to button up a shirt properly," Leonard grumbled. He knew he was grumbling often, more often than speaking normally probably, but Jim knew how to read it. He threw his head back and laughed, but made no move to reach down and close the offending button again.
"Didn't think anybody would be watching me instead of the happy couple."
Leonard only shook his head as they entered the shade of the tent and sought out their places of honor. Of course Jim had known that at least Leonard was going to spare the occasional glance at him. Jim was used to having all eyes on him. There was no way he couldn't have known. And the cocky glance Jim threw him as they sat down, as well as the way he made sure that their thighs brushed during the entire reception, told him all about the chances that the button had come undone by accident.
Jim was, if anything, a sneaky bastard.
But to be honest, Leonard didn't want it any other way.
Later, much later, when the speeches were over, the obligatory dancing was done with - and yes, even Leonard had taken Christine for a spin on the dance floor - when everybody was fed and the open bar was nearly cleared out, Leonard found himself lying on the beach, gazing up at the stars.
The sun had long since set, but it wasn't cold, and the soft and warm sand felt like a comfortable mattress underneath him. Risa's two moons were casting enough light to illuminate the dunes all around, the waves that were gently lapping at the shore, and although it was hidden from view behind one of the dunes, the music from the tent was still ringing softly in his ears, along with the occasional bout of laughter from the party that was slowly but surely winding down.
Leonard was content.
He had eaten plenty of good food earlier, the bar had been stocked with real Saurian brandy, and while he wasn't anywhere near drunk, he was in that pleasant headspace where everything was just a little softer around the edges. One nearly untouched glass of brandy was standing in the sand somewhere to his right, and Jim's head was lying pillowed on his chest, ear and cheek pressed against the skin over Leonard's heart.
Leonard had his own arm wrapped around Jim's shoulders, fingers playing lazily with the strands of hair on the back of Jim's head. At some point while they had settled in the soft sand, Jim had once more proven his uncanny ability at undoing buttons. Only the two lower buttons of Leonard's shirt were still closed, and the stubble on Jim's cheek tickled the skin on his chest slightly where it rested against it. Jim's hand was resting on Leonard's stomach, his thumb drawing soft, slow circles over his skin.
He could stay like this, Leonard mused. Even if there was a hotel room booked under their name, one with a wide bed and a soft, bouncy mattress, but at this moment no place seemed quite as comfortable as this right here, with Jim. Come tomorrow morning, his back was going to tell him exactly what it thought of that idea, but right here, right now, Leonard was content.
For a while, he thought Jim might have fallen asleep. Leonard's own lids seemed to be getting heavier and heavier, and he was drifting off into that pleasant state between wakefulness and sleep when Jim suddenly spoke.
"Christine was really glad that you did this for her."
Jim's breath as he spoke was a warm gust over his chest, and Leonard had to suppress a shiver.
"I only walked her down the aisle. Wasn't that much of a sacrifice."
"Still. Christine knows how you feel about marriage. I think she really appreciates that you stepped out of your comfort zone like this."
Leonard shrugged, careful not to dislodge Jim with the movement.
"She seemed happy about today, that's the main thing."
"Yeah."
Jim nuzzled even farther into Leonard's chest, a comfortable and warm weight against his side.
"You didn't do half-bad either, you know? A bit on the sappy side, but Christine and Peters seemed to love it."
Jim laughed. "Don't pretend that you listened to a single word of my speech."
"Oh, I got the gist of it during that dozen or so dry runs you made over the past days. And as I said, it was good, as far as wedding speeches go."
Jim chuckled, his breath a warm huff against the bare skin of Leonard's chest. They lay in comfortable silence for a few long moments, until Jim spoke again.
"You know, I've been thinking."
"Oh, this is gonna be good."
"Hey!" Jim pinched his stomach, but there was a smile on his face as he did so. "I'll have you know that I'm perfectly capable of reflection."
"Yeah, you've always loved staring at yourself in the mirror."
"You're an ass, Bones."
Leonard grinned into the darkness, and kept the far too obvious comeback about ownership of that particular piece of his anatomy to himself.
"So, what have you been thinking about?"
Jim drew a deep breath, but then released it again and paused for a second before he spoke.
"I have a good feeling about them. Christine and Lieutenant Peters, I mean."
"Jim, you've said that about every couple you married so far."
"And they're all still married, just for the record. But I'm serious about it. I've got the feeling they know what they're doing, you know?"
Leonard chuckled. "In my experience, most couples who get married think they know what they're doing. A lot of them only find out later that they had no damn clue."
Jim shook his head against Leonard's chest. "But they know what they've let themselves in for. And they've been together for what? Over two years now. Day in, day out, sometimes on duty as well as off duty. If you manage that for so long without getting sick of one another, I'd say chances are good that you're going to make it even as a married couple."
Leonard swallowed his response and instead focus on the feeling of Jim's hair between his fingers. He could have argued that if everything was working out in a relationship, there was no need to try and change anything by getting married. It was not an argument for a day like today, and he really didn't want to break the utter contentment of the moment just to make a point. In fact, he was far too comfortable to argue, and it was one of those rare leisure moments when it was just them, without any roles they had to fulfill or duties to attend to. Just Jim and Leonard, and they had that far too rarely on the ship. For this alone, the whole wedding shebang on Risa had been worth it. And they still had four more days of shore leave ahead of them.
"I mean, just think about it."
Leonard frowned, waiting for Jim to continue so that he'd know what exactly he was supposed to be thinking about. Jim was still lying absolutely still, leaning his head into the movement of Leonard's fingers, but despite that physical stillness it was obvious that the gears in his head were spinning rapidly.
"I know you have all these hang-ups about marriage, and I understand where that's coming from. But it's not as if marriage is this big evil thing that was invented just to make people unhappy. True, it doesn't work out for everybody."
"You can say that." Leonard laughed, feeling the well-known bitterness that not even all these years had managed to erase completely rise up again. "For some, it doesn't work out spectacularly."
The movement of Jim's fingers against his stomach had never stopped during their conversation, and now he increased the pressure slightly as if he was feeling how Leonard tensed up and was trying to soothe him.
"I know that. But because you and Jocelyn didn't work out doesn't mean that marriage as such is wrong, does it? It just means it wasn't the right thing for the two of you."
Jim seemed to have spent quite some thought on the matter, which surprised Leonard. And he couldn't deny that he had a point, even though it would take a bit more to make him openly admit to that.
"Officiating weddings always puts you into that kind of mood."
Jim smiled, a movement Leonard could feel against his chest, and pressed a gentle kiss against his skin.
"But all disillusion and personal experience aside, it's not marriage that's bad, is it? It's the people who get married when they just don't fit. And I guess sometimes you don't know beforehand that a relationship won't work out for the long haul. But I don't think that's reason enough to doubt marriage as such. I mean, marriage is only as strong as the relationship, and if a marriage fails it's because something was wrong with the relationship, and not with the concept of marriage."
Leonard made a non-committal sound in the back of his throat. For Christine's sake, he was really hoping that this marriage was going to work out, but the truth was that nobody could know for sure. It was obvious, though, that Jim had immersed himself far too much into the matter during his preparations for the wedding.
"Why the passionate defense?"
Jim shrugged, somehow managing to use the movement to curl in even tighter against Leonard.
"Because I don't think that it can be all wrong, and I actually like the idea that we've got people aboard who think it's worth to take the plunge. Especially since it's not easy to be stuck on the same small starship together for years, working together, living together. I guess at one point you just know, you know what I mean? At one point you've just been through everything together. You've seen the other one in all kinds of moods, good and bad, worried about them when they were sick, laughed with them, fought and made up, and I guess…I don't know. At one point you just know that if you've been through all that and still want to be with that person, then it's just meant to be. And then, marriage isn't a bad thing, a confinement or a social norm."
"No?"
"No," Jim said firmly, with an accompanying shake of his head. "It's the next step. And I'm not saying that everyone needs to get married. I just think that it can be something…I don't know. Something affirmative. Like saying that you want to be with that one person for the rest of your life, and you want to make if official. It doesn't change the relationship really. But it's a way of saying that this person is the one you want. The only one. And it's like a promise to your partner, too. A promise that you're in this for the long haul, and that you won't give up on this relationship for anything. I think it's a great reassurance to have that, and that it's not really something you need to worry about day in, day out. You just know that you made that commitment, and that it's a good thing."
They had never talked about this, not in depth, and Leonard's first reaction was to ask Jim why he was spending so much thought on the marriage of two crewmembers. But he had the feeling they were no longer talking about Christine and her new husband, and hadn't for a while. The movement of Jim's fingers across his stomach had stopped, and he had tensed up slightly in Leonard's hold.
Leonard felt his pulse speed up slightly, but he forced himself not to think. Instead, he swallowed against his suddenly dry throat as Jim reached for his free hand and intertwined their fingers.
"Jim?"
That hoarse and scratchy voice couldn't possibly belong to him, Leonard thought distantly, but was distracted quickly when Jim squeezed his hand.
"I think marriage isn't a risk you have to brave. Relationships can go wrong whether or not you're married. But if the relationship is good and it works out, then I think it's the right step." He drew a deep breath, and when he continued his voice was so low that Leonard barely heard it over the pounding of his own heart.
"And I think what we have is something good. Something really good that I don't want to let go of anymore."
Leonard was sure that the pounding of his heart could be heard all the way to the party tent in the distance.
"Jim, do you…are you proposing to me?"
For a few seconds, Jim didn't move, then he shifted around so that he was finally facing Leonard. He was leaning up on one elbow, his other hand still intertwined with Leonard's. It was impossible, but even in the dim light that the two moons cast onto the beach his eyes seemed to shine blue. The expression on his face was insecure, which was another clear sign that Leonard wasn't seeing things clearly. Jim might be insecure at times, but he never let any of that show.
"In a way that leaves you every opportunity to ignore it if you don't want to. But…yes, I think that's what you could call it."
And suddenly, Leonard felt calm. There was no panic, no feeling that this wasn't supposed to happen, nothing. There was just the two of them, Jim and him. The reckless young Starfleet Captain who wore his heart on his sleeve if you only knew how to read him, and the grumpy and disillusioned doctor who cared too much and couldn't always let go of his emotional baggage. Two people who by all appearances didn't match, but who simply fit together like something that was meant to be. Jim was right. They worked. And what they had was something good.
Something that felt right.
Even more, Jim wanted this to be forever, which was a humbling thought. And one Leonard found he wasn't averse to at all.
He squeezed Jim's hand, which was still intertwined with his own.
"Maybe I don't want to ignore it."
Jim's eyes widened. "What do you mean?"
Leonard smiled, because suddenly everything seemed so simple, like a path that was clearly laid out in front of them.
"I don't want to ignore the fact that you're proposing to me."
Jim nodded, as if it all made sense, although he still looked slightly dazed and not yet quite sure this was happening.
"Okay. So, let's not ignore it then."
"Okay."
It would be funny, in any other situation, how Jim was silently asking for permission with each step on the way. But this was new, for both of them, because this commitment, this depth in a relationship wasn't something either of them had ever experienced before. Leonard guessed that hesitation was a part of that particular package.
Jim squeezed his fingers once more, then let go of his hand and rose up to his knees.
"Leonard McCoy, will you marry me?"
And Leonard nearly laughed, because only they could manage to turn and twist this most classic way of proposing on bended knee in their own way, with Leonard still lying in the sand while Jim kneeled before him. But just like everything else, it only felt right.
"Yes."
And only then did Jim smile. Not one of those smiles that he showed to and occasionally used on others. No, it was that genuine, carefree smile that only Leonard got to see during those moments when Jim was simply Jim, not the Captain or a representative of anything. Leonard loved that smile, and the thought that he was the one who could put that smile on Jim's face.
Jim was still kneeling in front of him, and the loss of his warmth felt like a missing limb to Leonard. He reached out and pulled Jim down towards him, and it was only natural that their lips met in a kiss that was neither tender nor hungry, but simply content, and full of the conviction that this was right. This was how they belonged, and as Jim's warm weight settled atop of him again, Leonard asked himself why he had so stubbornly refused to see it before.
But it didn't matter, because they were here now. And maybe they had taken the long way around to get to this point, but at least that had given them plenty of time to admire the scenery.
There was only one thing Leonard thought they had to get out of the way immediately, before it came back to bite them later. When Jim settled against him again, warm and content and so much more relaxed than just a few minutes ago, Leonard's hand immediately went around his back, holding him tightly into the space at his side that seemed to have been made exclusively for the purpose of holding Jim against him.
"Jim?"
"Hmmm?" Jim hummed against him, nuzzling his face into Leonard's neck.
"Just one thing."
"What's that?"
"Can we please not worry about things like flower arrangements, dress codes and the seating order at the reception?"
Jim laughed. "Oh, I don't think you need to worry about an overdose of romance during our wedding."
Leonard frowned. "Why would you say that?"
"Well, I can hardly officiate my own wedding. So my First Officer is going to have to step in for that."
Leonard threw back his head and laughed, long and hard and with far more relief in it than he wanted to admit. Most people would probably think that with a Vulcan to officiate the wedding, the romantic notion of the ceremony might get lost. But he thought that for Jim and him, there couldn't possibly be a better choice. He pressed Jim tightly against himself and leaned in for another long kiss.
Getting married didn't sound like such a bad idea, after all.
The End
Thanks for reading. As always, please let me know what you think. Thanks a lot.
Author: laughter_now
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy, Chapel/OMC
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I really don't own anything related to Star Trek. I'm just borrowing.
Warning: Excessive schmoop. Don't say I didn't warn you.
Summary: Jim loved to officiate weddings. He'd never openly admit it, of course, but Leonard knew for a fact that somewhere deep down, in a place so hidden that even Jim didn't know where it was tucked away most of the time, James T. Kirk was a romantic sap.
I know I should be writing AsQ, but this bunny attacked me and didn't let go untilI agreed to write it.
I decided that for the sake of this story, Christine Chapel's fiancé Roger doesn't exist in the reboot universe.
And without further ado, we go on to the story.
Enjoy!
Something Old, Something New...
Jim loved to officiate weddings.
He'd never openly admit it, of course, but Leonard knew for a fact that somewhere deep down, in a place so hidden that even Jim didn't know where it was tucked away most of the time, James T. Kirk was a romantic sap.
It didn't come out often, thank God. Leonard wouldn't know what to do if it was a constant in their relationship. The whole thing about coming up short on high romantic expectations had already been a trademark of one of the two noteworthy relationships in his life; he most certainly didn't need to maneuver through that particular minefield again.
But it was an undeniable fact that whenever he was asked to officiate a wedding, Jim got completely excited about it. Leonard was intelligent - not to mention experienced - enough never to comment on it, but seeing Jim prepare for holding a wedding was enough to give a dentally healthy man cavities. And yes, he knew exactly that if he ever happened to say that out loud, he and his right hand would spend a number of very lonely nights on the extremely uncomfortable sofa. And that was something he could definitely do without, thanks a lot.
Besides, it was…adorable, in a scary and somewhat disturbing way. And no, of course there was nothing wrong with Jim being happy when two members of the crew decided to tie the knot. Way of the world and all that. Jim just took it a little over the top at times. Was it normal that he was rehearsing his speech for the ceremony? Maybe not. But up to three times a day was definitely way too much in Leonard's educated opinion. Especially when he was asking for Leonard's opinion on something, and then later on complained that phrases like 'you better be damn sure about this, kid' wasn't the appropriate vernacular for such a ceremony.
But Jim enjoyed himself, and as long as all the sap stayed contained to the wedding preparations and didn't spill over into their relationship - which worked perfectly fine without moonbeams and roses and all that other crap, thank you very much - then Leonard wasn't going to complain. Besides, it wasn't as if marriages were happening left and right. They were a few weeks shy of their four-year mark on the Enterprise, and this was going to be the fourth couple Jim was going to marry.
Leonard could live with Jim getting romantically distracted once a year.
Also, if everything went smoothly and the party was good, those wedding nights saw Leonard having some of the best sex of his life, and he didn't even need to marry to get it.
So all in all, he couldn't really protest against the occasional wedding.
And he didn't wish upon those happy loving couples what had happened to him, but one could most certainly not hold Leonard's own opinion on marriage against him. He knew what he was talking about, after all. Been there, done that, still paying the alimony. Leonard definitely had his bubble burst as far as the romantic notion behind marriage was concerned.
But let the kids have their fun, the daily grind and the disillusionment were going to get to them soon enough. They didn't need him to speed up the process or burst their bubbles, that was all going to happen by its own, in its due time.
Normally, aside from those evenings before the ceremony when Jim was going crazy with his PADD and a thesaurus, Leonard wasn't really affected by the wedding preparations. Even during the ceremony he could just blend into the background and wait for the part of the celebrations that included the open bar.
This time however, he didn't have that choice.
Leonard was thrilled for Christine, he really was. And she could have done a lot worse than Lieutenant Martin Parker. He should have seen that one coming, actually. Nobody pulled double shifts on the most boring science project known to man if there wasn't some sort of personal incentive behind it. But really, Leonard was happy for his head nurse. Christine seemed happy, which was the main thing, of course, and Parker doted on her. Had a completely clean bill of health, too, and Leonard had double checked. So it wasn't as if he had anything against that marriage per se.
Unfortunately, Christine was somewhat traditional when it came to marrying. She only intended to do it once in her life, after all, a remark upon which Leonard wisely turned around so that she didn't see his eye-roll. He wasn't going to give her the statistics on marriage and divorce rates amongst Starfleet personnel who were stationed together. Leonard might be blunt and hold no reservations in stating his opinion, but he had enough sense of self-preservation to not enrage the one person who could make his working life a living hell if she so desired. Besides, that wasn't the point. The point was that Christine wanted a traditional marriage, and what Christine Chapel wanted, she was dead-set on getting. That included the walk down the aisle, and being given away at the altar.
And in the strange movie titled "Christine's getting married" which Leonard had been cast in without his knowledge and against his will, it apparently was a perfectly logical plot device to ask him to stand in for that role in lieu of her deceased father.
Which, admittedly, made Leonard feel honored. Saying no had never been an option. Even if it hadn't been for Christine's pleading puppy eyes, there was still the romantically hardwired Jim to consider, who Leonard knew wouldn't hesitate to use withdrawal of sexual favors in order to change Leonard's mind. Besides, Leonard liked Christine, he really did. If he could make her happy by walking her down that aisle, who was he to disagree?
He should have known. Experience should have taught him that just the thought about marriage replaced otherwise perfectly sane women with strange and obsessed creatures. Rational thought was completely turned off in that pre-marriage phase, and the strangest and most obscure things suddenly gained a shocking amount of importance.
Worse. Apparently, Leonard had missed a clause in the contract when he signed up for the role of walking Christine down the aisle. He had seen it as a five-minute involvement in the entire proceedings, but apparently his head nurse had different ideas.
She wanted his input.
Leonard was a doctor, damn it, not a wedding planner. He had no opinion on flower arrangements. None. At. All.
For his own marriage, he had been content to just let Jocelyn handle all of these questions. He had merely nodded his agreement when her voice sounded excited about something, and tried not to put his foot in his mouth not too often. It had worked, and in all honesty Leonard couldn't have given a damn about whether or not they were having pink roses or white lilies at the reception.
Christine didn't leave him that chance. She wanted Leonard's opinion on things and wouldn't take a non-committal grunt as an answer.
He was convinced that Dante's vision of the inferno was missing one circle, and that eternal wedding preparations were going to be of great importance there.
And it didn't stop at things like botanical contemplations. No. Because apparently Leonard hadn't paid enough penance for whatever shortcomings he was being punished for with this. The degree of what exactly he had signed up for revealed itself only bit by bit.
Rehearsals.
And really, who in their right mind rehearsed marriage?
It wasn't as if it was difficult, either. The basic concept was very simple, actually.
Jim was going to give his speech with all those synonyms for love, devotion and eternity that he had looked up in the thesaurus - a speech he refused to give at the rehearsal because he didn't want to, quote/unquote, spoil the surprise - and then bride and groom both had to say 'yes' at the appropriate moment. A moment which was kinda hard to miss even without the rehearsal, because frankly, it was the only moment during the entire ceremony when the happy couple was asked anything directly. Other than that, there was the Pavlovian reflex to the word 'kiss', and it was all over and done with.
In Leonard's experience, one didn't really need to rehearse that part, especially since once it came down to it, the ceremony was mostly going to pass by the happy couple, anyway.
But they rehearsed. Oh yes, they rehearsed. Leonard had no idea how many dry runs down the aisle Jim forced them to make until his and Christine's vision of the perfect walk had come true. Because yes, all that hidden romantic sap had spilled over at the mere mention of the word 'wedding', and now Jim was a willing participant in the whole planning phase. The traitor.
Leonard's complaints about how all those dry runs were pretty damn pointless anyway since the one run that was going to count for something was going to happen somewhere else entirely were ignored. Repeatedly. Even though it was a complete waste of time to rehearse walking down an imaginary aisle on the Observation Deck when the actual marriage wasn't even going to happen on the ship.
No, because marrying aboard the Enterprise would have been entirely too easy.
As Starfleet Captain, Jim could legally officiate marriages aboard the ship, of course. But that power stretched farther, and all marriages Jim officiated on Federation soil were legal. So that meant he could officially marry couples on all Federation planets. As it turned out, Risa was a Federation planet. And it just happened that Christine had always wanted a wedding on the beach.
Jim was positively ecstatic about the idea, and Leonard was slowly getting worried about his lover's enthusiasm for all things marriage. Once Christine and her husband-to-be had said the words, he was going to make sure Jim's daily dose of romantic indulgence was going to be reduced to normal levels again. Immediately. Romantic cold turkey. It was for Jim's own wellbeing, and for Leonard's peace of mind.
But before that, they had to get the actual wedding part done. Timing the wedding date with a convenient shore leave on Risa wasn't that hard a task when the person aboard who decided about shore leaves was fully immersed in the whole wedding plans, anyway.
Leonard experienced more than a few moments of unexpected bonding with Lieutenant Parker during which they could only look on in amazement - and admittedly more than just a little fear - as Jim and Christine planned the living daylights out of this wedding. A couple of glasses of Leonard's emergency stash of Saurian brandy took the edge off the worst moments, and to be honest it was good to know that Leonard wasn't the only one who felt like this whole thing was spinning just a little out of control.
And yes, actually having a dress code that went according to a color scheme was over the top, no matter what Jim thought on the matter.
Leonard could appreciate that a wedding party all dressed in white clothes against the backdrop of a beach scenery would make for nice wedding pictures. Not that anybody ever looked at those pictures again once the first high of being married had worn off. Besides, if he wasn't a wedding person, he most definitely wasn't a beach kind of person. Not to mention that aside from some old t-shirts, he didn't own a single piece of white clothing.
But were any of his concerns on the matter heard? No, of course they weren't.
Which was why, two days before the wedding date, Leonard found himself in a tailor's shop on Risa, helplessly watching as a tailor of unidentified species measured parts of his anatomy Leonard hadn't known needed measuring for a simple pair of pants and a shirt. Jim found it highly entertaining. Of course the smug bastard did. Leonard watched with openly admitted satisfaction how that smug grin vanished from Jim's face as it was his turn to get fondled when the tailor started taking measurements.
Although Leonard had to admit that the tailor knew what he was doing, and the clothes were not half bad. White definitely wasn't his color, but it was one step above the uncomfortable dress uniform. And that was something.
Still, it was a lot of work and preparations for a wedding that could have been over and done with in fifteen minutes if they had just held it on the Observation Deck. Not that anybody ever listened to him when Leonard tried to point that small matter out.
They were stuck with the beach wedding, and nothing was going to change Christine's mind about it.
And really, in the end it didn't turn out that bad. Christine was a beautiful bride, and once they got down to the actual wedding, the groom seemed just as thrilled about this whole thing as she was, all his previous concerns forgotten. So Leonard most definitely wasn't going to rain on their parade, especially since there was going to be an open bar once the whole official part of the ceremony was over and done with.
And Christine was positively radiant as Leonard led her down the - extremely sandy - aisle. Radiant enough that Leonard vowed to swallow any comment about how damn useless all those dry runs on the Observation Deck had been in preparation for this. Christine was happy with how things were going, that was the main thing.
He handed Christine over at the altar, with a carefully raised eyebrow and a pointed scowl directed at the groom, just to let Peters know whose bad side he'd be getting on if he didn't take this marriage at least as seriously as Christine did. With his official involvement in the wedding thus over and done with - the dance Christine had made him promise her didn't count because he was going to find a way to weasel out of that one - Leonard sat down and allowed his mind to drift off.
Not out of disrespect for the happy couple, or out of boredom, really not. It was just that, for him at least, Jim was overshadowing the rest of the ceremony.
Two days ago, Leonard had been ready and willing to curse Christine for implementing a dress code. But admittedly, not everything about it was bad. Watching Jim as he stood facing the assembled crew, PADD in hand, Leonard really learned to appreciate what the clothes were doing to Jim.
By all rights, white clothes shouldn't look this so good on someone as pale as Jim was, but they did. Oh yes, they did. They made him look strangely transparent, almost ethereal. And gosh, they couldn't tell him that there wasn't anything in the air here on Risa, because such soppy words normally didn't dare to even enter Leonard's thoughts. But it was true. With the white clothes and his rather pale skin, Jim's eyes seemed to shine even brighter than they normally did, and his hair was glowing in the sunlight.
It had to be the setting, as well. The beach scenery was beautiful as far as those went, and the sun shining down on Jim's blond hair created the treacherous illusion of a halo-like glow around his head. It wasn't windy, but just a few feet away from the surf there was a constant soft and gentle breeze tugging at the clothes of the three people standing in front of the assembled guests.
Admittedly, Leonard didn't have much attention to spare for either Christine or Lieutenant Parker. The top button of Jim's shirt was undone, and at some point over the past minutes the bottom button had slid open, as well. The first time the gentle gust of wind caught the hem of Jim's shirt and lifted it slightly, exposing the pale expanse of skin below, Leonard lost focus on the actual wedding proceedings from one second to the next.
Damn it, he would bet that Jim had helped that button to 'accidentally' come undone. Leonard doubted that anybody besides him noticed, but the flapping of Jim's shirt in the soft breeze and the occasional tantalizing glimpse of skin beneath the white fabric was mesmerizing. Leonard knew what it felt like to run his hands over the skin of Jim's stomach, to feel the hard muscles underneath the surprisingly soft skin quiver at his touch, to run his hands over and over again across the thin trail of hair running down from Jim's navel to vanish underneath the waistband of his pants. Leonard knew what it was like to touch Jim's skin with hands and tongue, and if he closed his eyes he could almost taste the slightly salty tang of the soft skin on his lips.
He needed to focus. It wasn't going to do if Leonard ended up sitting through the wedding of his direct subordinate with a raging hard-on. Especially since those white pants weren't made for hiding certain physical conditions.
Not that it was easy. Not at all. The winds were conspiring against him, in the most evil of ways. In addition to the teasing reveals of Jim's skin, the wind pressed the loosely fitting pants and shirt tight against Jim's body. After all these yeas, Leonard knew the outlines of Jim's body so well that he could trace them blindly. He knew what it was like to run his hands along Jim's body from top to bottom, to cover it and wrap himself around that firm shape like his skin were the only clothes Jim's body was ever going to need.
It was just the wind blowing against Jim's clothes, but somehow the moment had become so sensual and enticing that Leonard had to tear his eyes away and force his mind to listen to the proceedings before it became too much.
He had known before that Jim was a damn good looking bastard, something Leonard was always aware of on a subconscious level. But it were moments like this when the realization suddenly hit him full force. It took his breath away whenever it happened, and always, a small voice inside Leonard's head wondered what he had done to deserve this man. He never lingered on those thoughts for too long, because he damn well wasn't going to think something this good to death. If there was one thing Leonard McCoy had learned, then that sometimes you just had to be grateful for the good things in your life and not worry about whether you had deserved them in the first place.
Besides, today was Christine's big day. And he wasn't going to ruin that by letting his mind drift into the gutter. And even more importantly, he wasn't going to let the admittedly romantic mood of this beach wedding infect him with any more sappy thoughts. He was well over his romance quota for the remainder of the year, and he most certainly didn't want to overdose.
Leonard managed to focus his thoughts in time to witness the exchange of the vows and rings, and to see the wink in his eye as Jim told Lieutenant Peters to kiss the bride. Peters did, with enthusiasm if Leonard had any right to judge these things, and Leonard had to admit that this whole wedding hadn't turned out to be that bad at all. Of course those accursed winds had to blow sand into his eyes just as the newlywed couple broke the kiss and held onto each other as if they never wanted to let go. At least, that's what Leonard told himself, because there could be no other explanation as to why he was tearing up all of a sudden. He wasn't a romantic sap like Jim, after all.
Besides, the crowd was cheering, Christine and Peters were walking down the aisle again - and wasn't Leonard grateful that he had talked Jim out of the insane idea to have Keenser throw flowers since the crew lacked any kids they could abuse for the position of flower girl or boy - towards the tent that had been erected for the celebrations. The official part was over, now it was time for the party. And that was something Leonard felt far more qualified for than the romantic exchange of vows.
Unerringly, as if he was following an internal beacon forever tuned into Leonard's location, Jim was at his side, arm sneaking around his waist.
"You looked as if you were half a galaxy away for most of the ceremony," Jim said as they followed bride and groom as well as the rest of the crew towards the open tent flaps.
"Might not have happened if you knew how to button up a shirt properly," Leonard grumbled. He knew he was grumbling often, more often than speaking normally probably, but Jim knew how to read it. He threw his head back and laughed, but made no move to reach down and close the offending button again.
"Didn't think anybody would be watching me instead of the happy couple."
Leonard only shook his head as they entered the shade of the tent and sought out their places of honor. Of course Jim had known that at least Leonard was going to spare the occasional glance at him. Jim was used to having all eyes on him. There was no way he couldn't have known. And the cocky glance Jim threw him as they sat down, as well as the way he made sure that their thighs brushed during the entire reception, told him all about the chances that the button had come undone by accident.
Jim was, if anything, a sneaky bastard.
But to be honest, Leonard didn't want it any other way.
Later, much later, when the speeches were over, the obligatory dancing was done with - and yes, even Leonard had taken Christine for a spin on the dance floor - when everybody was fed and the open bar was nearly cleared out, Leonard found himself lying on the beach, gazing up at the stars.
The sun had long since set, but it wasn't cold, and the soft and warm sand felt like a comfortable mattress underneath him. Risa's two moons were casting enough light to illuminate the dunes all around, the waves that were gently lapping at the shore, and although it was hidden from view behind one of the dunes, the music from the tent was still ringing softly in his ears, along with the occasional bout of laughter from the party that was slowly but surely winding down.
Leonard was content.
He had eaten plenty of good food earlier, the bar had been stocked with real Saurian brandy, and while he wasn't anywhere near drunk, he was in that pleasant headspace where everything was just a little softer around the edges. One nearly untouched glass of brandy was standing in the sand somewhere to his right, and Jim's head was lying pillowed on his chest, ear and cheek pressed against the skin over Leonard's heart.
Leonard had his own arm wrapped around Jim's shoulders, fingers playing lazily with the strands of hair on the back of Jim's head. At some point while they had settled in the soft sand, Jim had once more proven his uncanny ability at undoing buttons. Only the two lower buttons of Leonard's shirt were still closed, and the stubble on Jim's cheek tickled the skin on his chest slightly where it rested against it. Jim's hand was resting on Leonard's stomach, his thumb drawing soft, slow circles over his skin.
He could stay like this, Leonard mused. Even if there was a hotel room booked under their name, one with a wide bed and a soft, bouncy mattress, but at this moment no place seemed quite as comfortable as this right here, with Jim. Come tomorrow morning, his back was going to tell him exactly what it thought of that idea, but right here, right now, Leonard was content.
For a while, he thought Jim might have fallen asleep. Leonard's own lids seemed to be getting heavier and heavier, and he was drifting off into that pleasant state between wakefulness and sleep when Jim suddenly spoke.
"Christine was really glad that you did this for her."
Jim's breath as he spoke was a warm gust over his chest, and Leonard had to suppress a shiver.
"I only walked her down the aisle. Wasn't that much of a sacrifice."
"Still. Christine knows how you feel about marriage. I think she really appreciates that you stepped out of your comfort zone like this."
Leonard shrugged, careful not to dislodge Jim with the movement.
"She seemed happy about today, that's the main thing."
"Yeah."
Jim nuzzled even farther into Leonard's chest, a comfortable and warm weight against his side.
"You didn't do half-bad either, you know? A bit on the sappy side, but Christine and Peters seemed to love it."
Jim laughed. "Don't pretend that you listened to a single word of my speech."
"Oh, I got the gist of it during that dozen or so dry runs you made over the past days. And as I said, it was good, as far as wedding speeches go."
Jim chuckled, his breath a warm huff against the bare skin of Leonard's chest. They lay in comfortable silence for a few long moments, until Jim spoke again.
"You know, I've been thinking."
"Oh, this is gonna be good."
"Hey!" Jim pinched his stomach, but there was a smile on his face as he did so. "I'll have you know that I'm perfectly capable of reflection."
"Yeah, you've always loved staring at yourself in the mirror."
"You're an ass, Bones."
Leonard grinned into the darkness, and kept the far too obvious comeback about ownership of that particular piece of his anatomy to himself.
"So, what have you been thinking about?"
Jim drew a deep breath, but then released it again and paused for a second before he spoke.
"I have a good feeling about them. Christine and Lieutenant Peters, I mean."
"Jim, you've said that about every couple you married so far."
"And they're all still married, just for the record. But I'm serious about it. I've got the feeling they know what they're doing, you know?"
Leonard chuckled. "In my experience, most couples who get married think they know what they're doing. A lot of them only find out later that they had no damn clue."
Jim shook his head against Leonard's chest. "But they know what they've let themselves in for. And they've been together for what? Over two years now. Day in, day out, sometimes on duty as well as off duty. If you manage that for so long without getting sick of one another, I'd say chances are good that you're going to make it even as a married couple."
Leonard swallowed his response and instead focus on the feeling of Jim's hair between his fingers. He could have argued that if everything was working out in a relationship, there was no need to try and change anything by getting married. It was not an argument for a day like today, and he really didn't want to break the utter contentment of the moment just to make a point. In fact, he was far too comfortable to argue, and it was one of those rare leisure moments when it was just them, without any roles they had to fulfill or duties to attend to. Just Jim and Leonard, and they had that far too rarely on the ship. For this alone, the whole wedding shebang on Risa had been worth it. And they still had four more days of shore leave ahead of them.
"I mean, just think about it."
Leonard frowned, waiting for Jim to continue so that he'd know what exactly he was supposed to be thinking about. Jim was still lying absolutely still, leaning his head into the movement of Leonard's fingers, but despite that physical stillness it was obvious that the gears in his head were spinning rapidly.
"I know you have all these hang-ups about marriage, and I understand where that's coming from. But it's not as if marriage is this big evil thing that was invented just to make people unhappy. True, it doesn't work out for everybody."
"You can say that." Leonard laughed, feeling the well-known bitterness that not even all these years had managed to erase completely rise up again. "For some, it doesn't work out spectacularly."
The movement of Jim's fingers against his stomach had never stopped during their conversation, and now he increased the pressure slightly as if he was feeling how Leonard tensed up and was trying to soothe him.
"I know that. But because you and Jocelyn didn't work out doesn't mean that marriage as such is wrong, does it? It just means it wasn't the right thing for the two of you."
Jim seemed to have spent quite some thought on the matter, which surprised Leonard. And he couldn't deny that he had a point, even though it would take a bit more to make him openly admit to that.
"Officiating weddings always puts you into that kind of mood."
Jim smiled, a movement Leonard could feel against his chest, and pressed a gentle kiss against his skin.
"But all disillusion and personal experience aside, it's not marriage that's bad, is it? It's the people who get married when they just don't fit. And I guess sometimes you don't know beforehand that a relationship won't work out for the long haul. But I don't think that's reason enough to doubt marriage as such. I mean, marriage is only as strong as the relationship, and if a marriage fails it's because something was wrong with the relationship, and not with the concept of marriage."
Leonard made a non-committal sound in the back of his throat. For Christine's sake, he was really hoping that this marriage was going to work out, but the truth was that nobody could know for sure. It was obvious, though, that Jim had immersed himself far too much into the matter during his preparations for the wedding.
"Why the passionate defense?"
Jim shrugged, somehow managing to use the movement to curl in even tighter against Leonard.
"Because I don't think that it can be all wrong, and I actually like the idea that we've got people aboard who think it's worth to take the plunge. Especially since it's not easy to be stuck on the same small starship together for years, working together, living together. I guess at one point you just know, you know what I mean? At one point you've just been through everything together. You've seen the other one in all kinds of moods, good and bad, worried about them when they were sick, laughed with them, fought and made up, and I guess…I don't know. At one point you just know that if you've been through all that and still want to be with that person, then it's just meant to be. And then, marriage isn't a bad thing, a confinement or a social norm."
"No?"
"No," Jim said firmly, with an accompanying shake of his head. "It's the next step. And I'm not saying that everyone needs to get married. I just think that it can be something…I don't know. Something affirmative. Like saying that you want to be with that one person for the rest of your life, and you want to make if official. It doesn't change the relationship really. But it's a way of saying that this person is the one you want. The only one. And it's like a promise to your partner, too. A promise that you're in this for the long haul, and that you won't give up on this relationship for anything. I think it's a great reassurance to have that, and that it's not really something you need to worry about day in, day out. You just know that you made that commitment, and that it's a good thing."
They had never talked about this, not in depth, and Leonard's first reaction was to ask Jim why he was spending so much thought on the marriage of two crewmembers. But he had the feeling they were no longer talking about Christine and her new husband, and hadn't for a while. The movement of Jim's fingers across his stomach had stopped, and he had tensed up slightly in Leonard's hold.
Leonard felt his pulse speed up slightly, but he forced himself not to think. Instead, he swallowed against his suddenly dry throat as Jim reached for his free hand and intertwined their fingers.
"Jim?"
That hoarse and scratchy voice couldn't possibly belong to him, Leonard thought distantly, but was distracted quickly when Jim squeezed his hand.
"I think marriage isn't a risk you have to brave. Relationships can go wrong whether or not you're married. But if the relationship is good and it works out, then I think it's the right step." He drew a deep breath, and when he continued his voice was so low that Leonard barely heard it over the pounding of his own heart.
"And I think what we have is something good. Something really good that I don't want to let go of anymore."
Leonard was sure that the pounding of his heart could be heard all the way to the party tent in the distance.
"Jim, do you…are you proposing to me?"
For a few seconds, Jim didn't move, then he shifted around so that he was finally facing Leonard. He was leaning up on one elbow, his other hand still intertwined with Leonard's. It was impossible, but even in the dim light that the two moons cast onto the beach his eyes seemed to shine blue. The expression on his face was insecure, which was another clear sign that Leonard wasn't seeing things clearly. Jim might be insecure at times, but he never let any of that show.
"In a way that leaves you every opportunity to ignore it if you don't want to. But…yes, I think that's what you could call it."
And suddenly, Leonard felt calm. There was no panic, no feeling that this wasn't supposed to happen, nothing. There was just the two of them, Jim and him. The reckless young Starfleet Captain who wore his heart on his sleeve if you only knew how to read him, and the grumpy and disillusioned doctor who cared too much and couldn't always let go of his emotional baggage. Two people who by all appearances didn't match, but who simply fit together like something that was meant to be. Jim was right. They worked. And what they had was something good.
Something that felt right.
Even more, Jim wanted this to be forever, which was a humbling thought. And one Leonard found he wasn't averse to at all.
He squeezed Jim's hand, which was still intertwined with his own.
"Maybe I don't want to ignore it."
Jim's eyes widened. "What do you mean?"
Leonard smiled, because suddenly everything seemed so simple, like a path that was clearly laid out in front of them.
"I don't want to ignore the fact that you're proposing to me."
Jim nodded, as if it all made sense, although he still looked slightly dazed and not yet quite sure this was happening.
"Okay. So, let's not ignore it then."
"Okay."
It would be funny, in any other situation, how Jim was silently asking for permission with each step on the way. But this was new, for both of them, because this commitment, this depth in a relationship wasn't something either of them had ever experienced before. Leonard guessed that hesitation was a part of that particular package.
Jim squeezed his fingers once more, then let go of his hand and rose up to his knees.
"Leonard McCoy, will you marry me?"
And Leonard nearly laughed, because only they could manage to turn and twist this most classic way of proposing on bended knee in their own way, with Leonard still lying in the sand while Jim kneeled before him. But just like everything else, it only felt right.
"Yes."
And only then did Jim smile. Not one of those smiles that he showed to and occasionally used on others. No, it was that genuine, carefree smile that only Leonard got to see during those moments when Jim was simply Jim, not the Captain or a representative of anything. Leonard loved that smile, and the thought that he was the one who could put that smile on Jim's face.
Jim was still kneeling in front of him, and the loss of his warmth felt like a missing limb to Leonard. He reached out and pulled Jim down towards him, and it was only natural that their lips met in a kiss that was neither tender nor hungry, but simply content, and full of the conviction that this was right. This was how they belonged, and as Jim's warm weight settled atop of him again, Leonard asked himself why he had so stubbornly refused to see it before.
But it didn't matter, because they were here now. And maybe they had taken the long way around to get to this point, but at least that had given them plenty of time to admire the scenery.
There was only one thing Leonard thought they had to get out of the way immediately, before it came back to bite them later. When Jim settled against him again, warm and content and so much more relaxed than just a few minutes ago, Leonard's hand immediately went around his back, holding him tightly into the space at his side that seemed to have been made exclusively for the purpose of holding Jim against him.
"Jim?"
"Hmmm?" Jim hummed against him, nuzzling his face into Leonard's neck.
"Just one thing."
"What's that?"
"Can we please not worry about things like flower arrangements, dress codes and the seating order at the reception?"
Jim laughed. "Oh, I don't think you need to worry about an overdose of romance during our wedding."
Leonard frowned. "Why would you say that?"
"Well, I can hardly officiate my own wedding. So my First Officer is going to have to step in for that."
Leonard threw back his head and laughed, long and hard and with far more relief in it than he wanted to admit. Most people would probably think that with a Vulcan to officiate the wedding, the romantic notion of the ceremony might get lost. But he thought that for Jim and him, there couldn't possibly be a better choice. He pressed Jim tightly against himself and leaned in for another long kiss.
Getting married didn't sound like such a bad idea, after all.
The End
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