((A/N just a little friendship fic with chapel and bones on the eve of uhura and bones' wedding c: written out of my new found love for christine.))

Weddings were a rare occasion aboard a Starship such as the Enterprise, so naturally they were cherished when they happened. As much as Christine Chapel would have loved to be getting married, being placed as a bridesmaid in the wedding was good enough. Weddings always put Nurse Chapel in the best of moods...it was an arrangement of two people, joined together for life. How was that not the least bit romantic? And she loved the romantics.

Christine had always dreamed about her own wedding day. She imagined it would be similar to her parents' wedding—simple, intimate, and absolutely beautiful. She would be selfish to think that Spock wouldn't want a hand in it, however, with his own traditions. And then uncertainty rose up in her. She asked herself if she really would end up marrying Spock, and immediately chastised herself for thinking such a thing. Why wouldn't she be marrying Spock? He seemed committed, she was committed…but, that was obviously not on the forefront of her mind.

"Hey, Nyota," Christine said, poking her head out of the bathroom. She, Janice, and Nyota were all staying in her room the night before she was to be married to Leonard McCoy. The rituals had been done; between Janis, Christine, and Mrs. Uhura back on Earth, Nyota had managed to collect the four necessary items: something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue.

"Yeah?" she asked, pulling herself up from a cupcake shaped like a penis. Janis' Bachelorette parties were legends on board the Enterprise.

"I need to run to the medbay real quick, I forgot my inhaler and I'm having trouble breathing," Christine explained, and a slightly intoxicated Nyota nodded while Janice giggled over the cupcakes.

She walked out of the quarters, feeling herself getting dizzier. This could have either been from her lack of oxygen or the fact that she was so excited for tomorrow. Although Nyota's emerald green dress would not have looked fantastic against her pallid skin tone, she still couldn't wait to don the dress and support her very best friend on this special day.

Dr. McCoy, Christine noticed, had been a wreck all day. He dropped everything, misdiagnosed allergies as a cold, and even managed to set something on fire. As the Head Nurse, she was obligated to fix his messes, which she was more than happy to do—on this day, anyway. She'd known the man even a little longer than she'd know Nyota, so she knew his habits well. He was a mess on the inside. Perhaps she would be able to talk him out of being so anxious when she went to fetch her inhaler.

Christine half-stumbled into the medical bay, looking around for where she might have left it. She felt the overwhelming panic she'd always tried to fight in situations like this. Christine could just imagine her throat closing up completely. It sounded ridiculous, but at the time, she was having trouble with breathing in, and it was disconcerting to say the least. Her shaky hands shoved through things at the nurse's station, knocking a communicator down on the floor.

This caught the attention of Dr. McCoy. He glanced up from his office, putting away the pictures of he and Joanna, and got up to investigate. He slammed his office door, but that didn't seem to startle whoever was trespassing in the nurse's station. He vaguely saw the top part of an impeccable blonde hairdo, and he knew precisely who it was. Not knowing she was having a medical emergency, he stood there and crossed his arms, raising his eyebrow. McCoy watched her, smirking all the while.

After what felt like a while, he finally spoke up. "Lose something, Chapel?" he asked, the smirk still solid in place. When she didn't answer he frowned and walked over. "Chapel, is there something the matter?"

He peeked his head over and heard the telltale wheezing sounds. Blinking, he ran to the main hospital area and got a specialized mask to clear the airway. He walked up behind her, putting a hand on her shoulder to calm her down. "I'm giving you a breathing treatment, Chapel. Calm down and stop panicking." His tone, while harsh and demanding, had a familiar comforting tone to it at the same time.

He put the mask against her mouth. "Deep breaths, Christine," he instructed, distantly, as he would any other patient. Slowly, her breaths became less shallow and more whole. The pink on her cheeks was suddenly more noticeable than the wheezing coming from her chest. Soon she was taking deep, lasting breaths.

After a few moments she took the mask off of her face, glancing back up to McCoy. "Thanks. Sorry for bothering you…I was looking for my inhaler." She snickered a little. Now that she was calm, the whole situation seemed a bit silly.

"Would it have anything to do with that inhaler-shaped object in your pocket?" He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Christine looked down. Sure enough, in her jeans sat her emergency inhaler. She blinked and pulled it out, snickering to herself. "Well, would you look at that…if I had a nickel for every time that's happened to me, I'd be a millionaire by now." She put it back in her pocket and turned back up to him.

"So…" Christine began, smirking. "Nervous?"

"Me? Nervous?" he asked, and then looked down. "You know as well as I do that I'm a pile of nerves." McCoy winced at that little giggle she gave off at his answer. "Don't…tell Nyota, okay? I don't need her knowing that I'm sweating bullets over here." He tugged at the collar of his shirt.

"Mum's the word." Christine looked down at McCoy, eyeing him as he stood there uncomfortably. "You know, you don't have to be nervous. It'll be great…she's so excited. And so am I."

"Well, as long as you're excited…" McCoy grumbled, and he watched her snicker at that. "You got time for one drink? I mean, I'm sure you three were knee-deep in a romcom, so I won't keep you long, but…" he rubbed the back of his head. "Hell, Chapel, you're…a good friend of mine, and hanging out with you would…well, I could have a proper bachelor's party, cause Jim would make it too wild and Spock just assumed it was too illogical for him."

"I'm just fascinated that you know what a romcom is, McCoy," Christine replied, and smirked on one side of her. "Sure. Are we paying our old friend Jack Daniels a visit?"

"Who else?"

The two of them smiled softly and made their way to his office. He pulled out the black label, poured them both a couple of shots, and began to talk about life.

Three shots in, Christine was feeling light-headed. She had a permanent smile on her face. "I better not have any more…I have duties, you know, as a bridesmaid…I have to convince her not to have cold feet while we're waiting for the ceremony," she mumbled, her words running together slightly. "Not that…you know…not that she will, mind you, but…I mean…you know what I mean, McCoy."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. Truth be told, I was getting a little hesitant a couple days ago. Don't get me wrong, I love Nyota. I do." Christine was staring at him, now. She wasn't taking her eyes off of his, and the intensity remained constant. "I mean, you remember Sam, my ex, I…I loved her, too. But not nearly as much as I love Nyota." He stared at the little shot glass. He'd had just as much as Christine, but he knew how to hold his liquor much better.

"I think you two will do very well together." She looked up to him, smiling a little bit on the side of her face. "I remember when I first saw one of those looks you always gave her. When she would be with Spock, you would always just…" She had a distant look on her face. "Well, I mean, I recognized the face."

"You and I, we had some similar experiences with those two, didn't we?" he asked. "I remember when Spock was in here after he lost Vulcan…"

"…McCoy." Her eyes looked up. "Don't bring me back there. We're all happy where we are. We're not walking around like lost puppies anymore, watching the two of them…well, anyway."

Christine always felt uncomfortable talking about Spock's relationship with Nyota. Everything in her wanted to hate Nyota for being his ex-girlfriend, even if he was the one who broke it off with her. But she was her best friend. It was a weird, uncomfortable feeling for her, and she didn't know why McCoy didn't mind it. Maybe it was just because he hated Spock anyway.

"McCoy?"

"Chapel?"

"Do you hate Spock?" Christine looked up to him with a somewhat hesitant look. For some odd reason, his opinion suddenly mattered to her. Just in the same way she assumed her opinion mattered to him.

McCoy chuckled. "Do I hate Spock? Well, hate's a strong word…" he looked her over, and shrugged. "I like the two of you. I'll leave it at that." He poured himself another shot, knowing not to offer her one. She would probably take it. He downed it, wincing for just a fraction of a second. "You know, Chapel…you're alright." He raised his empty shot glass.

With a wide, goofy smile, she did the same. They clinked the glasses and then set them down. "You're pretty alright yourself, McCoy." She looked around his office for a brief moment. Her eyes moved back to his, and they shared a quick smile together.

It felt like it should have been awkward between the two of them, but for some reason, it just wasn't. This felt like it normally did—and how it probably always would. Soon a teasing remark would come tumbling out from one of them, and McCoy would grumble, or Chapel would giggle. And even though McCoy would never admit it, Christine did just the job he wanted her to do that evening—she calmed him down quite a bit.

"You're such a lightweight," McCoy commented, and smirked. She giggled into her hand, and winced at the smell of her breath.

She was about to say something in return when there was a knock on the door. They looked up to see Commander Spock standing in the doorway, stiffly, looking from one to the other. "Jim has asked you meet him in his quarters. I believe he is attempting to give you a late night celebration. Per my request, there will be no female guests attending the celebration." He had his hands behind his back. "Miss Christine, are you intoxicated?"

Christine smirked. He could always tell. Her lips always got rosier. "A little, Spock, but it's just a celebration. Me and McCoy were just…talking, is all." She stood up, stumbling slightly and receiving an eyebrow raise from both men. As she made her way out, Spock's hand attempting to balance her, she felt something hit her shoulder blade.

She whipped around quickly, looked down, and saw her inhaler sitting on the floor. "Your maturity is showing," she said to McCoy, giving him a coy smile as she bent down to pick it up. She'd completely forgot about it before McCoy had thrown it at her.

"And your sobriety is showing. Just…try to remember it, okay? And don't go having too much fun with my fiancé tonight. There's a marriage going on tomorrow, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember," she replied, and pocketed the inhaler. She waved a sloppy wave goodbye before turned around, and heading out the door. Spock's hand was stationed dutifully at the small of her back. She didn't have to ask for him to walk her back to Nyota's quarters, and that made her smile. A rush of excitement went through her body when she remembered the wedding, and how she managed to help her boss get through his jitters with just an asthma attack and a few shots.