DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc and Viacom. The story contents are the creation and property of Djinn and are copyright (c) 2004 by Djinn. This story is Rated R.

Man and Man and Wife

by Djinn

--The Proposal--

Christine lay staring up at the ceiling, idly playing with Spock's hair as he rested his head on her stomach.

Jim leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Ask him. There'll never be a better time."

"I can hear you perfectly, Jim," Spock said, his voice barely more than a sated murmur.

Christine smiled. She and Jim had outdone themselves. She looked over at her partner in crime, found his mouth next to hers, and kissed him. For a long time.

When she finally pulled away, she said in a stage whisper, "He can hear you perfectly, Jim."

Spock's hand tightened on her thigh. "What do you two want? Other than to kill me with pleasure?" He did not sound particularly displeased by that idea.

"How long have we all been living together, Spock?" Jim asked, winking at her.

She giggled, felt Spock's hand tighten on her thigh again.

"One year, three months, four days, and an indeterminate amount of hours."

"Indeterminate?" Christine asked with a smile.

"I will determine that when I have recovered."

Jim laughed.

"Why do you ask?" Spock finally said.

"I think it's gone well. Don't you?" Jim looked over at Christine.

"I think it's gone great," she said.

Spock sighed, lifted his head very slowly and turned it so he could see them.

"What?" Christine said, as she resumed the head massage. "You don't agree?"

A strange puffing sound came from Spock. As if he was almost laughing.

"We really have worn you out, haven't we, love?" Jim leaned over, kissed him on the forehead. "Poor Spock."

"What do you want?" Spock's eyes were slowly closing.

"We want you to marry us," Christine said firmly, looking over at Jim.

He nodded quickly. "Both of us."

Spock's eyebrow slowly rose. "You want me to marry you?"

"You need to make an honest man of me."

"And stop buying the milk for free."

"Getting the milk for free," Jim said quickly.

"Right. The way he said it." She glared at him; she'd wanted the honest woman line.

"Wedded bliss, Spock. Doesn't it sound nice?"

To Christine's surprise, Spock's only response was a nod. She looked at Jim.

He shrugged.

Spock didn't move.

"You still awake there, pardner?" He poked Spock gently in the ear.

"I am." Spock swatted rather ineffectually at Jim's hand. Then he actually sighed. It was a sound of utter contentment.

"You nodded. Was that a yes?" Christine stopped rubbing his head as she waited.

"Whatever you want."

She looked at Jim. "Whatever we want? Shouldn't we ask for more?"

"Do not push your luck, Christine." Spock kissed her belly.

"So you'll marry us?" Jim asked, winking at her. "For better, for worse?"

"In sickness, and in health?" she said, winking right back.

"You are a doctor now, Christine. How great a risk of sickness could there be?" Spock pulled the covers up over his head. They could barely hear him as he said, "I will no doubt regret this in the morning, but yes I will marry you."

She looked at Jim, slightly stunned. They hadn't really expected this to work.

Jim seemed to gulp. Then he said, "Okay, now that that's settled, who's going to wear the dress?"

"Please stop talking," they heard from under the covers.

Jim laughed and cuddled closer to her. He kissed her again. And again. And again.

She began to giggle. "We're getting married."

He kissed her some more.

"Oh my god, we're getting married," she said when he finally pulled away. "We're insane."

But she couldn't stop smiling. She noticed he couldn't either. From the gentle snores coming from under the covers, Spock was probably too deeply asleep to smile. Not that he would have, even if they hadn't worn him out with great sex.

Jim smiled wickedly. "Never underestimate us when we team up."

"We're dangerous." She closed her eyes, felt Jim snuggle in next to her, his breath warm on her hair.

"I love us," he whispered.

"Me too," she said as she let her exhausted body finally rest.

Even two on one, it took a lot to wear out a Vulcan.

--The Announcement--

Six pairs of eyes stared back at them from around their living room. Six pairs of stunned, rather titillated eyes.

Christine wasn't sure whether to laugh or run out of the room.

"You want me to give Christine away? To both of you?" McCoy downed his bourbon.

Jim took McCoy's glass and walked over to the bar, pouring out another generous helping of liquor.

Chekov got up and joined him at the bar. He swapped his empty vodka glass for a bigger one, and filled it with Russian hundred-proof. "What exactly does the ring bearer do?"

"Usher or bust, Pav," Sulu said with a grin as he sipped at his beer. He seemed to be the only one who wasn't in some state of shock.

Christine studied him, suddenly curious what he'd been up to while they weren't looking. He saw her looking at him and raised both eyebrows in a "wouldn't you like to know" kind of way. She bit back a giggle.

"Both of you?" Rand said for the sixth time.

"We've covered this ground, Jan," Jim said gently as he walked past her to hand McCoy his drink.

"Oh, yeah." She looked over at Christine, shaking her head in what could only be envy. "Both of them."

Christine laughed. She turned to Uhura; her friend stared back at her blandly.

"You don't have anything to say, Ny?"

"I'm not wearing lavender, puce, or baby blue. There will be no big ribbon sitting right on my ass, no taffeta in the middle of summer, and no dyed-to-match shoes that kill my feet." It was clear from her tone that these were not negotiable things.

"Okay," Jim said easily.

Christine shot him a look. "But you know I had my heart set on her wearing puce taffeta with a ribbon on the butt."

"I know, hon. But sometimes you have to compromise."

"Oh, fine."

She looked over at Spock. He was sitting quietly next to McCoy, the picture of composure.

"You've been awfully quiet, Spock," McCoy said, taking another long drink of his bourbon. "Cat got your tongue?"

"We have no house pet, Doctor."

"You know what I mean, you big green lug."

"How does it work? How big is the bed?" Chekov said, probably more loudly than he meant to.

All eyes turned to him. He blushed deeply. "I mean the wedding. How big is the wedding?"

Spock seemed to take pity on him. "The wedding will be large. The bed is also quite large; Christine has an excellent eye. Now, may we count on all of you?"

Five heads nodded. Jim walked over to Scotty, who was sipping his Scotch thoughtfully.

"Something you'd like to say, Mister Scott?"

"No, sir."

"Are you offended by this?"

Scott began to chuckle. "No, sir."

"So, this amuses you?"

"Oh. Aye, sir." He took another sip of his drink, then looked up at Jim. "Are you happy?"

Jim nodded.

Scotty looked over at Christine, then at Spock. They both nodded.

"That's the ticket then." Scotty stood, held up his drink. "To the happy cou--err trio." He chuckled again. "I can't wait to see the invitations."

Jim shot Christine a glance; they'd spent three hours with the wedding planner earlier in the day and still hadn't settled on the wording. "We're working out the finer details of the language."

"I bet you are, sir." Scott beamed at him. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to make light of your big day. But this is a bit..."

"Out there, even for you, Jim," McCoy said, shaking his head. "Although, I'd put nothing past you, Spock." He looked up at her. "And as for you, Christine...I'm just a bit shocked."

"Oh, Len, please."

He laughed. "I have to say that if I'm to fill in for your daddy."

"So you're not shocked."

"I wouldn't go that far." He did look more than a little taken aback.

"Come on, Bones. I'll buy you another drink." Jim led him over to the bar.

Rand looked up at Christine. "Both of them?"

Christine shrugged.

"How is it?" Rand's shock was rapidly turning into something more like interest--gleeful if scandalized interest.

"It's good." Christine saw her friend's wistful look and smiled. "No, it's not. It's great." She shot Rand a look of pure lascivious delight.

"I hate you so much," Rand said with a laugh.

"I think I do too," Uhura said softly, grinning. "And hey, I was serious about the ribbon on the ass thing."

"I know you were." Christine laughed. "Dark blue dresses, very simple. Utterly lacking in butt accoutrements. You'll like them. They're pretty enough to wear somewhere other than a wedding. And it'll be inside. In the air-conditioning." She smiled.

"You wearing white?"

She giggled. "We all might. It'll be too funny." She giggled harder. "And they might wear the dresses. I'll do the tuxedo."

"No way." Uhura began to laugh. "Actually, I think I can see Spock in a little off-the-shoulder thing."

All Christine could picture was his chest hair curling over it. 'That's not a nice picture, Ny."

"I think oyster might be better with his complexion. Bring out the green in his cheeks." Rand giggled into her champagne.

"So, you're in?" Christine was happy to see them finally relaxing.

"Oh," Rand said with an evil, evil grin. "We wouldn't miss this for the world."

--The Bureaucracy--

"There, that should be all of them." Jim collected Christine's padd, adding it to the pile he carried back to the clerk.

Christine followed him. How much longer was this going to take? She was rapidly developing a raging headache.

Spock rested a hand on her arm, as if he could sense her frustration. "Patience is a virtue, Christine."

"Tell that to someone who hasn't been here for two hours."

The clerk handed Jim two more padds. "And this is for marrying an alien." He handed that one to Spock. "Or two of them in your case, sir."

Spock didn't react, just started filling out the form on the padd.

The clerk turned back to Jim. "And those I gave you have the standard Vulcan pre-nup."

"The what?" Jim looked at Christine.

She shrugged, then regretted the move. It only made her headache worse.

"Prenuptial agreement," the clerk said. "Standard procedure when humans marry into the Vulcan aristocracy."

Christine turned to Spock. "You're an aristocrat?"

"I am."

"Are we rich?" She smiled to show him she was kidding.

"Not once Sarek finds out about this," Jim muttered.

Spock's expression actually lightened. Christine thought he was enjoying the idea of shocking his father. Lord knew he could never please the man. "Perhaps we should forego the prenuptials?" he ventured.

She grabbed the padds from the clerk, handed one to Jim. "We don't want your money, Spock."

"We're just using him for the sex," Jim said to the clerk with a devilish smile.

"I really don't need the details, sir."

"Actually, you will need them." Christine handed him a padd they'd brought. "We're applying for a tax break." She pointed down to the bottom of the padd. "Spousal group-multiple-other. That's us." It was right under Deltan Sexual Group and Tellarite Treeclimbing and Mating Foursome. Christine didn't want to think too hard about that last one. She'd seen too many Tellarites up close.

Jim handed him another padd. "Here are the results of our medical exams."

The clerk inspected the padds closely. "May I commend you on your thoroughness? Most people forget something."

Christine laughed. "Most people aren't marrying a Vulcan aristocrat."

"This is true," the clerk said.

He took the padds from them, waited until Spock was done with his, then signed them at the bottom. He handed them back their padd. "There's one more thing," he said, pointing to the seating area. "You need to see the counselor."

"Why?" Jim asked with a frown.

"Standard procedure when we get a group."

"You make it sound like we're forming a football team," Jim said.

"Don't need to know the details, don't want to know the details." The clerk waved them away. "It's just standard procedure, sir."

They sat down and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Finally, a door opened. A tall man looked out. "Spock, Kirk, Chapel?"

"And a partridge in a pear tree," Jim muttered.

"You gonna give him the patience lecture?" Christine asked Spock.

"I am not."

"Wise man." She followed Jim and Spock into the office.

"Have a seat." The man looked them over. "I'm Doctor Reynolds." He didn't say anything more. Just waited.

They all stared at him. For a long time.

Finally, he picked up a padd and signed it, handing it to them. "You're set then. Give this back to the clerk as you leave."

"That was it?" Christine asked.

"Yes." He smiled. "Have a nice wedding."

"You did not ask us anything." Spock raised an eyebrow.

"I don't want to know anything." He smiled. "But you'd be surprised what people volunteer when the silence gets uncomfortable."

They all just nodded.

"Run along," the doctor said with a smile. "You have a wedding to plan."

"Maybe you could give us an opinion." Jim dug out the holovids of the flowers they were choosing between. "What do you think?"

"What colors are you using?"

"Indigo and ivory," Christine said.

Indigo had been Spock's idea. Seemed he had a rebel streak. She and Jim had left it up to him to find tuxedos in the appropriate shade of nearly-black blue. Not surprisingly, he had. Tastefully done ones too. He already had a robe in that color--apparently it was the house color.

"Nice choice." The doctor looked the images over. "You can't go wrong with roses. Very classic."

"See. That's what I said." Christine shot Spock a smug grin.

Jim put the pictures away. "Thank you, Doctor. We'll get out of your hair." He suddenly seemed to notice the doctor was almost completely bald. "I mean..."

"He means have a nice day, Doctor," Christine said as she pushed him out the door.

Spock followed with more decorum. "I believe that went well."

"We're really doing this, Spock." Jim took a deep breath.

"Yes, Jim. I know." He looked at Christine. "My parents arrive back on Earth the day after tomorrow. They have invited me to join them for dinner that night. I told them I was bringing the two of you. We will tell them our news at dinner."

Both Christine and Jim gulped.

"We have to meet the parents--I mean, as your intendeds?" Jim said.

He sounded as if he was glad that neither he nor Christine had parents to meet. Unless, Spock wanted to have dinner at their graves. Which Christine doubted he would want to. Although the thought suddenly struck her as morbidly funny.

She probably shouldn't think it was funny, but between her headache and a huge case of nerves at meeting Sarek and Amanda again--this time as future in-laws--she was feeling a bit hysterical.

"Breathe," Jim said, rubbing her back. "Just breathe."

She grinned at him. Suddenly very relieved that he would be there too.

He seemed to know exactly what she was thinking. "A dangerous team."

She nodded. Then remembered how forbidding Sarek could be.

"Breathe," Jim said again, as he pushed her out of the clerk's office.

--Nerves--

"You smell that, right?" Christine looked up from the padd she was reading. Her study was becoming nearly noxious with the cloyingly sweet and sort of meaty smell that seemed to be emanating from Spock's meditation room.

Jim leaned over her, sniffing noisily.

She laughed. "Not me. Out there. In the hall."

"Yeah, actually, I do smell something." He went out into the hall, sniffed again. "I think Spock has some new incense."

"Some stinky new incense." She sighed. There was no way she was going to work through the article tonight. Getting up, she joined Jim in the hall. "Oh, god, that reeks. Can you imagine how strong it is in there?"

The door to Spock's room was shut tight.

"That can't be good for him." Jim looked at her. "Can it?"

"My 'I've been a doctor for all of two months' opinion is no, it can't be good for him."

"Spock?" Jim knocked gently on the door. When Spock didn't answer, he tried the handle. "Not locked," he said softly.

"Lead on, Macduff."

He grinned and pushed the door open. Clouds of oily green smoke filled the room. Jim pulled her in and shut the door. She presumed he didn't want it getting out into the hall, and into their rooms.

"Spock? What the hell is this stuff?"

Spock looked up at them. He seemed utterly relaxed. "Ah. The incense. It is new."

"Yes. And very strong." Christine felt a little light-headed. She knelt down next to him. "Is it Vulcan?"

Spock shook his head. "Jamaican."

"Jamaican?" Jim sat down, eyeing the white-wrapped incense doubtfully. "What's it called?"

"You would not know it, Jim." Spock seemed to be rocking a bit as he sat. As if to music only he could hear.

"Humor him, Spock."

"It is called ganja."

Christine grabbed the package of incense sticks. "One hundred percent pure cannabis." She began to giggle. "Why did you buy this?"

"I confess I have been somewhat nervous over our upcoming dinner with my parents." He closed his eyes. "A Rastafarian friend of my brother's said this would help."

"Your brother?" Jim shot her a look, mouthed, "His brother?"

She shrugged. "You have a brother, Spock?"

Spock nodded, his expression turned mournful. "He does not exist though. My father has willed it."

"Ah. An imaginary brother." She smiled sadly. "You probably felt isolated as a child. I had an imaginary playmate when I was growing up."

"I did not say my brother was imaginary."

She patted his knee. "I'm sure to you he is quite real. Is he half Vulcan like you?"

Spock frowned. Not a slight frown, or a half frown, but a deep frown. "No, he is a pure Vulcan." He leaned in, as if he was going to tell them a great secret. "But he embraces his emotions."

They both nodded.

"Alrighty then," Jim said. "Is anybody else hungry?"

Christine leaned back, resting her head against Spock's shoulder. She felt so relaxed. "I'm starving."

Jim smiled, pushing her down and kissing her deeply. Then he pulled Spock to him, more forcefully than was strictly necessary. They sort of toppled down over her into a very soft, very mellow pile. As the men kissed, lying on top of and around her, Christine started to giggle. They pulled away from each other eventually, Spock moving down to kiss her but she couldn't stop giggling.

"You are nervous as well," Spock said.

She nodded. "Your folks are going to hate us."

"No they won't," Jim said as he pulled her shirt up, exposing her stomach to his lips. He worked his way to points higher.

"They are already acquainted with you both. They think highly of you," Spock said as he pulled down her pants, working his way to points much farther south.

Christine wiggled as their lips moved across her skin. "The idea of us, though. I mean with you. Both of us with you. They'll hate that."

"That is possible." Spock pulled away. "They will judge us."

Christine felt a feeling of paranoia run through her. They would judge them and then they would hate them. And she and Jim would never be welcome in the house, or on Vulcan, or anywhere near Spock. Ever again.

Jim stopped what he was doing and got up, moving to the window, which he opened wide. "I think that's enough ganja for you two." He gestured to the incense. "Blow that out. We don't need it."

Spock turned the cylinder and buried it in the container of sand that had been keeping it upright. "I am very hungry." He looked down at Christine, began to touch her again. Then held out his hand to Jim. "I am not hungry solely for food."

Jim smiled. "You get started there; I'll go grab some munchies."

Spock didn't stop to argue or agree, his lips began to trace a very hot trail down Christine's body.

She threw her head back, could feel an extremely happy smile beginning to grow on her face. Then she thought about Sarek and Amanda. What would they think of her?

"Christine, you are distracted," Spock said, as he reached for the meld points.

In seconds, she forgot all about his parents. She was dimly aware of Jim coming back, of him feeding her something very yummy, before Spock pulled him into the meld too.

Then there was only skin and lips and tongues and fingers and other nasty bits touching and joining and causing her and him and him to cry out. Loudly. Repeatedly.

They finally lay quiet, limbs like rubber, mouths turned up in quietly triumphant smiles. She reached over, grabbed an apple slice from the plate Jim had set out of the way. She fed it to Spock, felt Jim's hand on her back, rubbing it gently. She began to smile even more.

"What?" Jim leaned closer, and she reached for another apple, held it out to him, smiled as he kissed her fingers before biting off a hunk of the apple.

"All the wedding stuff was sort of getting in the way of this. Of us. I never want to forget why we're together." She leaned down, kissed Spock's cheek, then Jim's.

"We will not forget," Spock said gently, allowing her to feed him another slice of apple, before reaching for the plate and taking the last one, offering it to her.

She bit into it, savoring the sharp tang. Juice ran down her face and she laughed, tried to stop it.

"I've got it," Jim said, his tongue already licking her clean. "All better."

She lay down, her head resting on Spock's shoulder, her hand in Jim's hair. "It's always all better when I'm with the two of you."

She closed her eyes, felt Spock touch her hair, his long fingers working gently over her scalp, even as she did the same for Jim.

Heaven. This was pure, unadulterated--totally undeserved but she wouldn't give it up for the world--heaven.

--Meet the Parents--

"So, my son. Your mother tells me you have news to share with us?" Sarek favored Spock with a look so penetrating it would have made a laser beam envious.

Christine reached for her wine glass, sucking down a large amount of Vulcan red.

Spock looked at Jim, then at her.

She tried to smile gamely, a "give 'em hell, Spock" sort of smile. It didn't feel like it hit the target.

"Yes. I plan to marry." Dive-bomber Spock took a bite of asparagus, carefully chewing as his mother and father sat staring at him.

Christine saw Jim reach for his wine glass, felt unreasonably glad she wasn't the only one who needed a little artificial sustenance.

"You do?" Sarek finally asked when it was clear that Spock was volunteering no further information as long as there was asparagus to chew.

Spock set down his fork. "The wedding will be here, on Earth. You are, of course, most welcome to attend." The look he shot his father was less than warm, but his expression lightened when his eyes settled on his mother.

"Spock? Who are you marrying?" When he did not answer immediately, Amanda looked over at Jim and Christine. "I take it that it's one of you?"

Christine smiled. Bravely, she hoped. "Not one, precisely."

Jim managed to pull out the JTK "Leave 'em with trembly knees" grin. "Both of us to be exact."

"Both of you?" Amanda had a strange look on her face, as if she was trying not to cry--or not to laugh? "Exactly how did this happen?"

"The usual," Christine said. "A deserted planet. A constant struggle for survival." Desperate horniness, she resisted adding.

"Ah," Sarek said, as if nothing more needed to be spoken of the matter.

"I don't mean it was the Pon--"

Jim kicked her under the table.

"Right. Better not to speak of it." She looked down, as if too embarrassed to go on.

Amanda sighed. "How trying that must have been for you. All of you. Alone together." Her voice trailed off.

Christine shot her a look. Amanda winked at her.

"It was, of course, a difficult situation," Spock said, with an admiring glance at Christine, as if she had meant to lead Sarek down the garden path all along. "But we have learned to adjust, to make allowances for the road fate seems to have chosen for us. The three of us. Together."

Jim lifted his glass to Spock, beamed proudly. "That's damned eloquent, my friend."

Christine shot another look at Amanda.

Spock's mother did indeed appear to be trying not to laugh. She looked over at Sarek. "My husband, have you no words?"

The look Sarek shot the three of them was in no way warm, but he did seem to be resigned. He lifted his wineglass. "I honor my son's choice and welcome you into the family."

They all lifted their glasses.

Sarek sipped at his wine, but Christine could tell from the looks he was shooting Spock, that the two of them were going to have a discussion about the prenuptials before the night was over.

A deeply uncomfortable silence began to fill the room.

"So when can I expect grandchildren?" Amanda asked, barely managing to conceal a very devilish look as she smiled serenely at Christine. "I believe that's still up to you, my dear?"

Christine decided not to tell her future in-laws that Jim and their son were certainly giving the seeding process the old college try. "We thought we'd leave that up to Spock's brother," she said finally.

Sarek raised an eyebrow, the gesture eloquent in its surprise. Amanda looked shocked. And Spock quickly dished himself another plate of vegetables.

"His imaginary brother," Jim clarified, his laughing grin making it all a big joke.

Or not. Sarek turned to Spock, his face full of disapproval. "You shall not speak of this to them. Do you understand?"

Christine was about to jump to Spock's defense when she felt Jim's foot nudge hers. He shook his head slightly, mouthed, "Let it go," and went back to eating.

She followed suit.

"As you wish, Father," Spock said, his voice full of something sullen and hostile. And ages old.

Toxic, Christine decided. The atmosphere between them was toxic. She was suddenly not looking forward to holidays with the in-laws if this was how it would be. She stared down at her plate, wishing she'd kept the brother comment to herself.

She was surprised to feel Spock's hand on her knee, squeezing it gently, the motion hidden by the heavy white tablecloth.

"Christine has recently achieved her M.D." he said.

There was a surprising amount of pride in his voice. Reaching under the tablecloth, she stroked his hand where it lay on her knee.

Amanda made much of the news, even Sarek appeared interested. Christine looked over at Spock, smiled her thanks. She felt Jim's foot nudge hers gently. She smiled at him too.

Together. They were in this together.

Maybe those holidays wouldn't be that bad after all.

Not as long as they were together.

She wondered if Amanda had a bed big enough for them all. She decided to let that thought stay in her head. Her mouth had gotten them into enough trouble for one night.

--The Rehearsal Dinner--

Christine looked around the private room at the back of their favorite restaurant and felt her stomach seize up. Whose stupid idea had it been anyway to have a traditional, walk-down-the-aisle, recipe-for-disaster wedding?

"You okay?" Jim asked as he came up, munching on a breadstick.

"No." She grabbed his drink, drained it. The feeling of Scotch burning down her throat brought a small bit of comfort. "Where the hell is Spock?"

Jim took the glass back and walked over to the bar that had been placed to the side of the long table. "He's finishing up with his cadets. You know that." He refilled his glass and poured out another for her. "Come here."

"No." Her voice sounded so damned childish that she started to laugh. "What are we doing, Jim?"

"We're getting married, Chris. Remember?" He carried the glasses over, handed the fresh one to her, and leaned in, nuzzling her ear. "Getting cold feet?"

She smiled. "No." She turned so that his lips fell on hers.

He laughed as he kissed her, one arm going around her, pulling her closer.

She sighed and relaxed against him, her free hand reaching up to play with his hair the way he liked.

"Hey, enough of that kissy-face stuff," Rand said. As they turned to her, she grinned. "Or at least let me play too."

Jim shook his head, pulling her in for a quick hug before walking over to greet Uhura and Chekov.

"If I wasn't jealous before, I am now. And that was your in-public kiss?" Rand looked around. "Where's Spock?"

"Entrancing a whole new crop of female officers and probably half the males." Christine laughed. "He's at the Academy. It's finals."

"Great timing, Chapel."

"I didn't pick the day for this. I didn't even want to have this. Our wedding planner did. He said it would be bad luck to skip it."

"Never argue with a good wedding planner." Rand waved at Scotty and Sulu as they walked in. "So I wasn't really kidding about being included." She turned a mischievous look on Christine. "You three ever take in strays?"

"It's confusing enough already," Christine said with a laugh.

"So that's a maybe?"

Uhura grinned as she walked up. "Isn't it traditional to have an actual rehearsal with the rehearsal dinner?"

Christine laughed. "It's also nice if the grooms can both make it."

"Spock will be here. I saw him as I was leaving. He said he'd be finished soon." Uhura looked around. "Are we going to rehearse?"

"We walk down the aisle. How hard can it be?" Rand began to hum the wedding march. "Or do we have to do some special step?"

"Klingon goose step, I was thinking." Christine shook her head. "Just walk...it'd be nice if it were with some semblance of decorum. On the other hand, we're the threesome getting married. Decorum may fly out the window before we even get started." She took a big gulp of Scotch, forced herself to smile. Why, oh why hadn't they just eloped?

"How big a wedding will it be?" Uhura asked.

Jim walked up, put his arm around Christine. "Big enough." He grinned at her expression. "Small. It's small." He squeezed her gently.

"It's not small. It's medium." Christine took a deep breath. "Small would be just us. We could do it here, right now."

"Breathe." Jim kissed her cheek, then pointed to the door. "Soft...what Vulcan through yonder doorway walks?"

"It is the Spock." She smiled as Spock joined them.

He briefly touched Jim's shoulder and her hand before turning to the others. "Where is Doctor McCoy?"

"Practicing his speech, no doubt," Jim said. "I'm sure it will be a doozy." He looked a little scared at what McCoy might come up with. In addition to giving her away, he was also best man. Their wedding planner had thrown a hissy fit, said it would screw up the feng shui of the wedding. Jim had finally threatened to can him if he didn't shut up about it.

As if on cue, McCoy walked in, grinning broadly. "Tell me there's bourbon among those lovely bottles, and I'll be a happy man."

Chekov held up one of the bottles. "I think this is what you want. Distilled by a little old Russian lady in Moscow...Kentucky."

"Bless you, my son," McCoy said as he took the bottle from him and poured out a generous helping.

Spock motioned for the waiters who had been hovering at the door to come in. "May I suggest that we sit?"

"Aristocrats are so good at that," Jim whispered to her.

"Does that mean you're Lord Jim and I'm Lady Christine?"

"Somehow I doubt it." He gave her a last squeeze before walking to the other end of the table. He sat down by McCoy.

"What's the matter, Jim? Don't you trust me to behave?"

"Not even as far as I can throw you." Jim leaned in. "So, how's the speech coming?"

"My toast?" McCoy grinned. "Well, I like it."

"That's what I was afraid of."

Christine sat next to Sulu. He shot her an easy smile, and again she was struck by how comfortable he seemed with the whole scenario.

"You had a very wild youth, didn't you?"

"I had an interesting roommate at the Academy. He was dating a Deltan. She was...quite fond of me."

"I'm starting to get the picture."

"Oh. I don't think so." He laughed, a very evil twinkle in his eye. "But you're closer than most people."

She smiled. "Jan wondered if we took in strays."

"Do you?" he asked, looking as if he might file that knowledge away for future use.

Maybe they should start a waiting list?

"No, we don't. Three's fine."

"Too bad." He laughed again, then turned his attention to the appetizers that were making their way around the table.

"So you're not having a bachelor party?" Scotty asked Spock.

"We are not."

Jim leaned in. "Who needs one last fling when you have this?" He waggled his eyebrows.

"Aye. Who indeed?"

Christine thought Scotty looked a bit envious suddenly. But still on the verge of some humongous laughing fit.

"So who'll end up wearing the dress?" Rand asked.

"She will," Spock said, indicating Christine with a nod. "It did not fit me."

Christine thought Rand was going to fall off her chair. The whole table broke up.

The waiters brought in wine, and Jim waited until everyone had a glass before raising his glass. "To our best friends. We may not be rehearsing, but we wanted a chance to say thank you with this dinner."

"To a long and happy marriage," Uhura countered, lifting her glass to all three of them.

"To very strong bedsprings," Chekov said, then pretended he hadn't meant to say it. When the giggles died down, he lifted his glass. "To love. If you find it, especially twice over, you are truly blessed."

Christine wiped at her eyes. That was the sweetest thing anyone had said to the three of them.

"I guess it's time for my speech." McCoy stood up. "To honor the occasion, I have written a poem. In three parts, naturally."

Jim and Christine groaned, Spock stayed silent but looked slightly uneasy. Everyone else leaned in with anticipation.

"There once was a man name of Kirk. Who met his two lovers at work. He couldn't decide, a groom or a bride? So he's taking them both--Admiral's perk."

Christine groaned along with the others.

McCoy just laughed. "What? You wanted real poetry? From me?"

"What's the next part?" Sulu asked.

"I'm getting there." McCoy took a big sip of wine before taking a theatrically deep breath.

"There once was a nurse name of Chris. Who we all thought was a priss. But look at her now, she's busy and how. I wonder can I get a kiss?"

He walked over to her chair and she kissed him. "I'll get you for this."

"Promises, promises," he said with a gentle smile. Then he went to stand behind Spock's chair. "And of course, I saved the best for last."

Spock's uneasiness looked more like outright anxiety. "Just proceed, Leonard."

"Ooh, he called me Leonard."

"First, do no harm, remember, Bones?" Jim said with a laugh.

"Oh, yeah. I always forget that one." McCoy set his hand on Spock's shoulder for a moment, then coughed. Dramatically. "There once was a Vulcan named Spock. Who said his emotions were locked. We all know he lied, for his groom and his bride are clearly what makes his world rock."

"My world does not rock, Doctor."

"If you say so, Mister Spock. If you say so." McCoy leaned down and gave him a big kiss on the cheek--much to Spock's dismay. Then he walked back to his chair and picked up his wine glass. "To Jim Kirk, Christine Chapel, and Spock whatever the hell the rest of your name is but I probably couldn't pronounce it anyway." He shot Spock a soft look. "Three finer friends, I'd be hard pressed to find. It's an honor and a bit of a voyeuristic thrill to wish you a happy life filled with joy and contentment. To love. In all its fascinating permutations."

"To love," the others echoed.

Christine met McCoy's eyes. "Thank you," she mouthed.

He shrugged. The perfect southern "Aw, shucks, ma'am" shrug.

She heard Jim laugh, felt Spock's hand settle on hers and squeeze gently.

"To love," she murmured, suddenly feeling much more relaxed.

The waiters came in with the main course, refilling the wine glasses once they'd passed the food out.

She drank deeply.

Good friends, lots of excellent wine, and the love of two good men. The evening couldn't be any more perfect.

Rand looked over at her. "How much of that do you have to drink before you're willing to share?"

She just laughed. Jan was such a kidder.

She hoped.

--Pre-Wedding Interlude, Complete with Hangovers--

Christine woke up slowly, aware of a dull pounding in her head and the loud staccato bass roar of two men engaged in a snoring duel.

"Oh god, kill me now," she said, as she tried to figure out how to get out of bed. Jim and Spock had managed to wind the sheets up over her and she fought her way loose, her head screaming each time she jarred it.

Married. She was getting married. Today. If her head didn't fall off first. Or she didn't kill her future husbands just to shut off the snores that had to be approaching eardrum-crunching decibel levels.

She pushed Jim out of the way. Hard. He groaned, moving away from her and finally freeing up enough space that she could pull herself out from under the sheets. She crawled over Spock, managing to knee him in the side as she did it.

"Christine?"

"Tell me there's some antitox," she mumbled as she wove her way to the bathroom.

"I told you that you would regret drinking that much," Spock called after her.

She heard Jim groan, then mutter, "Keep it down, for god's sake."

Rifling through the medicine chest, she finally found the antitox pills. She threw one back, chased it with a big gulp of water. Then she took one out to Jim. "I come bearing salvation."

He opened one eye. When she held out the pill, he opened the other and sat up. He sucked the pill down, holding his head as he did so.

"I will never understand the human predilection for overindulging," Spock said as he rose, donned his bathrobe, and walked out of the room.

"Oh, blow it out your ear." Jim lay back down, covering his head with the pillow. "Wake me when you feel better."

She laughed, then regretted it. The sound reverberated through her head, threatening to split her skull apart.

"Not so loud," Jim said, his voice muffled by a pillow's worth of down.

"Sorry." She slowly turned, trying not to jar anything as she pulled on her robe. Heading down the hall, she saw Spock waiting for her in the kitchen, a big mug of coffee held out to her.

"I love you," she whispered as she gulped greedily at the caffeine-laden warmth.

He always made such good coffee.

His expression lightened and he turned back to fixing breakfast.

As the smells gathered in the small room, Christine felt her stomach seize up. "I'm going outside." She walked out to their balcony, sitting in one of the chairs and watching the city come to life below her as she waited for the antitox to kick in.

Spock opened the door. "You should eat."

"Later."

He didn't argue with her, just shut the door and left her in peace.

She leaned back, closed her aching eyes and dozed. Some time later, she realized her head was no longer pounding and her stomach was protesting the lack of food instead of the idea of it. She got up and carried her mug inside.

"That offer still good?" she asked Spock.

He nodded. "I put your plate in the warmer."

"You're a domestic angel, Spock." She retrieved it and called softly down the hall. "Up and at 'em, Jim."

He muttered something about not feeling well and missing school.

She shrugged. He could wake up on his own then.

Setting her plate down on the table, she moved over to Spock's chair. Reaching around him to push the padd he was reading a