It was, by Vulcan standards, a "fairy tale wedding", which is to say that the bride and groom were actually married to each other as planned and no one was maimed or killed during the proceedings. Spock's parents joined them via a subspace video relay, an exorbitantly costly process that Spock felt certain had been at his mother's insistence. Apparently, Vulcan men spared no expense in pleasing their women; it was an unexpected characteristic yet had a certain logic she was beginning to understand. His woman…she really was his woman now, but she could already feel the flowering of the fledging bond between them, and understood that he was hers as well.
She marveled at the spectacular panorama of twinkling stars overhead, and the soft light of the moon over the Arno. Spock had managed to transform the empty cargo bay into a starlit summer night on the steps of San Miniato al Monte, the church overlooking Florence where her parents had been married. And it was, indeed, a hell of a wedding cake.
She felt an odd sense of distress, and turned to find her new husband looking quite indignant as the Captain and Len howled with laughter.
"Are you in need of rescue, my husband?"
"Aw, come on, Chris," McCoy said with a Cheshire cat grin. "Jim and I were just giving him 'the talk.'"
"What talk?" Christine asked, fixing McCoy and Kirk with a suspicious frown.
"Just a little—you know, pep talk," Kirk said.
"What kind of a 'pep talk'?"
"Just some advice for the wedding night, gotta make sure this ol' hobgoblin here treats my girl right," McCoy said as he gave Spock a chummy clap on the shoulder. Judging by the sharply arched eyebrow and put out expression on Spock's face she could well imagine the indecorous nature of the "pep talk."
"Right, because the two of your have such a stellar track record in the marriage department."
"She's got a point there, Bones," Kirk said with that killer smile that was his galactic get out of jail free card.
"You throw a nice shindig, Spock," McCoy said gazing out over the cityscape below.
"Shindig, Doctor?"
"The party, Spock. It sure beats the hell out of your last wedding. How the heck did you do all of this? Here we are standing in the middle a cargo bay, but we're in Florence, it's …unbelievable."
"It is a prototype for a new holographic technology. Starfleet wishes to explore its potential for use on long term voyages."
"I read through the paperwork when it came though, but I had no idea it was capable of anything like this, it's so…real."
"There are of course, numerous bugs to be worked out of the programming, but I believe there is tremendous potential for using such virtual reality technology to help crewmembers cope with the psychological stresses of longer missions in deep space."
Kirk signaled to the young ensign tending the bar for another round. "Chris, how about another drink?"
"Thanks, but nothing more for me, I've got Alpha shift tomorrow."
"You do not." Spock said, looking smug even for a Vulcan.
"I don't?"
"You are relieved from duty for the next seventy-two hours, as am I."
"It was a cheap wedding gift," Kirk said with another flash of the dazzling smile.
"From both of us," McCoy said, wrapping his arm around Christine for a fatherly hug.
"It is much appreciated, "Spock said, gently disengaging her from McCoy's embrace.
"Geez, Mr. Killjoy, can't a fella give the bride a kiss?"
"No," he answered, with a sternly raised eyebrow. "You may not."
"It's for good luck, you green-blooded—why do I even bother? It's like talking to a damn wall."
"It is as illogical to allow another male intimacy with my wife to garner a benefit based solely on antiquated superstition as it is to hold a conversation with a non sentient object."
Christine struggled, but failed to contain a laugh, not sure which was more hilarious, a jealous Vulcan husband, or McCoy's sputtering invective.
"Gentlemen," Spock said, placing one hand on McCoy's shoulder, and the other on Kirk's forearm. "I am most grateful for you presence here…and for your friendship."
For the first time in all of the years she'd known him, McCoy was speechless, at least for a moment. She saw his eyes soften as he said something to Spock, his voice too low for her to hear. She felt a gentle swell of …happiness, or the Vulcan equivalent, from Spock through their new bond and saw a soft sweet grin spread across Kirk's face.
"Well, looks like the buffet is open," Kirk said as the three men pulled apart.
"Is there anything edible?" McCoy asked.
"There is a combination of Vulcan and terran delicacies, Doctor. I feel confident that you will find something to your liking."
He nodded to Kirk and McCoy then took Christine's arm and guided her toward the table with the cake.
"It really was a beautiful wedding, Spock."
"I am gratified that the arrangements pleased you."
"So, I'm relieved of duty for seventy-two hours?"
"I believe that is what I said, wife."
"Hmm…seventy-two hours…what shall I do with all of that free time, Commander?" She tapped her lip softly. "I do have some experiments ready to go in the lab."
"I believe I have some experiments ready to go as well, Doctor, although they are not in the lab."
"Fascinating, and what sort of experiments might these be?"
"Biology."
"I like biology. Where might these experiments be set up?"
"I plan to conduct them in the VIP suite in guest quarters."
"The VIP suite? They must be high priority experiments."
"Very high priority…I must warn you, however, that if we do not get the experiment underway soon it is entirely possible that they could end up being conducted in the turbolift."
"The turbolift? That sounds a bit cramped for the sort of experiment I had in mind. So your experiment is, shall we say, 'time sensitive'?"
"It would appear so. I believe it would be prudent to go to our quarters now, my wife."
"Agreed, husband, but I'd like to get a piece of cake to take with me."
"Get two pieces."
"But, it's chocolate cake. I thought chocolate made Vulcans…oh."
Christine scooped two slices of the decadent looking chocolate cake onto a plate, blew Jan and Nyota a kiss and followed Spock, who was moving at quite a clip, to the turbolift. She was entering the code for her quarters when he moved her hand from the panel.
"We are going to the guest quarters, Christine," he said with a puzzled frown.
"I just need to pick up some clothes first."
"If my experiment goes as planned, you will not have need for clothing for the next seventy-two hours."
"I see," she said as dragged her index finger through the thick dark chocolate frosting, scooping up a generous sampling. Slowly, seductively, she moved the confection laden digit close to her mouth, licking her lips then flashing a wicked smile. He was watching her with what appeared to be amused fascination, though perhaps more titillated than amused considering the slight dilation of his eyes and his increased, and very audible, respiration.
She touched the icing lightly to her lips, allowing the tip of her tongue to glide over the creamy frosting. Damn, real chocolate, not the replicated crap. Well played. She licked her lips again, then moved the finger back to her mouth. She started to open her mouth, but then thought of a much more enjoyable way to consume the treat. Spock's eyes widened in surprise as she smeared the chocolate across his lips then leaned into him, covering his sweet lips with an open mouthed kiss.
Silently, she broke the kiss, then programmed the code for guest quarters into the turbolift. He leaned into her pressing his mouth against hers for a long, deep kiss that he hesitantly broke as the lift doors parted.
"Tasty," he said as he pulled her from the turbolift into the passage way to the VIP suite.
There is an old Vulcan adage from the Time of Surak that says sometimes having is not so pleasing a thing, after all, as wanting. This, Christine knew with perfect certainty as the doors of the turbolift swooshed closed behind them, was not one of those times.