Two days before they were to board the Enterprise, another chaplain wed them in a quiet, private ceremony. They had debated whether to invite fellow crewmembers, but in the end, they chose only to tell Admiral Pike.
He grinned the whole time like a proud father. He was immensely glad McCoy had found someone to soften his rough edges and wholeheartedly supported their marriage.
They sported simple gold bands, the only testament to their wedding. They planned on announcing the news once they were settled on the ship.
McCoy knew Jim would be pissed. It wasn't like they had deliberately hid their relationship, but McCoy had insisted on limiting public affection since he outranked her. Besides, Jim was always so caught up in himself that he didn't notice McCoy's subtle changes in behavior.
Jim didn't even notice McCoy's wedding ring until Uhura pointed it out as the ship leapt into warp.
"Congratulations, Doctor!" she exclaimed, spotting it while he was on the bridge.
"Congratulations for what?" Jim asked, looking at his friend. McCoy tugged at his uniform's neckline and sheepishly grinned.
"I got married," he said. The whole bridge erupted as they pressed forward to clap him on the back or shake his hand. Jim stood there, his mouth gaping.
"You should have seen him," McCoy commented to his wife later. "Jim was dumbfounded. That is the first time I've ever seen that."
Sarah smiled, her eyes twinkling.
"Did he recover?" she asked.
"Yeah, he finally snapped out of it and then it became a full on interrogation so I excused myself from the bridge, claiming I needed to return to MedBay," McCoy said, unable to stifle a laugh. Sarah was glad to hear her husband laugh; he did it so rarely.
They were sound asleep, his arm tight around her, face buried in her neck, when his comm buzzed.
"Bones, where are you?! We are supposed to transport down to Capellean," said an obviously irritated Captain Jim Kirk. McCoy growled, unwilling to leave the warmth of his wife's body. Sarah deliberately pushed him out of bed, knowing duty called.
