Chapter Text
Neither of them could truly identify the moment they realized they were in love, nor truly pin down the moment their relationship shifted into an official romance. They never asked each other out on a date, never officially declared one another to be their significant other.
They do, however, spend increasing amounts of time in each other’s quarters, debriefing after missions, discussing Starfleet news, telling stories from home.
They pour brandy and swap childhood stories.
They cook delicious meals and take care of their crew.
They comfort each other after hard missions filled with loss. They celebrate new alliances and first contacts gone right.
They avoid talking about the future.
The first time they kiss is after a particularly dangerous mission. The away team, led by Una, gets stuck on a hostile planet that sends out sentient vines to attack their people and, in an action that saves Sam Kirk’s life, Una takes the brunt of a hit. Her heart has to be restarted, but she recovers rather quickly, due to her unique biology.
The second the transporters finally lock back onto the away team’s signals and they shimmer back into the safety of the transporter room, Chris envelops her in a desperate hug before taking her face in his hands. They stare at each other for a moment before they both lean forward simultaneously and kiss each other deeply. No one else in the transporter room seems all that shocked, though Chief Kyle has the good sense to usher everyone out as fast as possible to give their captain and first officer a moment.
They don’t often display their affection in front of the crew after that, but that doesn’t stop their officers from privately referring to them as Captain Dad and Commander Mom.
And, of course, all the privacy in the world doesn’t keep Una from finding out about their new nicknames and passing the information on to Chris. They have a good laugh about it over dinner, followed by jokes about renaming the Constitution Class the “Minivan Class.”
—
Things slowly move from Una’s quarters to Chris’s.
Her choice bottle of habanero sauce.
The hair products she doesn’t already share with Chris.
Her favorite coffee mug.
The throw blanket he bought her years ago to apologize for getting them stranded on a frozen planet.
The jade plant Chris insists is named Elvira.
Eventually, Chris shows up at her door one day while they’re docked for repairs with an empty box.
She eyes the box suspiciously, folding her arms as she stands in her doorway.
“What’s that for?” she asks.
He shrugs. “The rest of your hot sauce collection, I hope.”
She raises an eyebrow.
“Una,” he says, with a hopeful smile just beginning to tug at his lips, “will you move in with me?”
She studies his face for a moment, her face completely absent of reaction. Just as he’s beginning to squirm, to wonder if he said the wrong thing, she looks back down at the box with a sigh.
“I’m going to need a bigger box than that for my whole collection.”
He grins wildly. “I have another back in my quarters that’s about 6 times this size, will that do?”
She leans forward with a hint of a smile, and places a soft kiss on his lips. “It might. Bring it over and we’ll see.”
—
They don’t discuss the future. Ever.
Una tries to bring it up a few times, but Chris makes it clear that he needs to sort through some things on his own before he’s ready to talk. So, instead, they live from day to day.
In private, however, Una makes a careful study of alternate universes, of the cadets Chris will save, and of the theories on time travel.
Nevertheless, they fall into a comfortable routine, rotating their shifts, finding moments to rest together between work and spending time with their crew, and cooking delicious food that has crew members from neighboring quarters knocking on their door sheepishly nearly every day.
They always share their meals with whoever shows up. They never turn away hungry crew.
They kiss more, growing more comfortable with physical closeness and affection. And he makes her laugh more in a week than she thinks she’s laughed in the entire rest of her life. In turn, Chris opens up, revealing more of the man behind the smile and the gentle jokes.
One night, as they lay in bed with Una’s head resting on Chris’s chest and the colors of space streaking past their window, Una takes a deep breath and asks: “Chris?"
“Hm?” He tilts his head to look down at her.
She meets his gaze, blue eyes glinting in the dim of their bedroom. “Will you marry me?”
Eyes widening, he sits up, pulling her up to face him.
“Una, are you-”
“Serious. 100%.” She looks at him, her expression unchanging, but not unkind.
He swallows. “The accident…”
“Is 7 years away.” She raises her chin. “And I’m not afraid of that future.”
He raises a hand to her cheek, fingers brushing over it gently, shakingly, as if he’s found something too precious to touch with faulty, human hands.
“I don’t want to leave you heartbroken. I don’t want to see you hurt.”
She reaches up and takes his quivering hand in her own, steadying it. “My heart is already on the line. Not being legally bonded isn’t going to make me love you any less.”
He melts a little, at that. But he’s still feeling a certain degree of trepidation. “Then why do you want to be married? If it makes that little of a difference…”
Her hand squeezes his more tightly. “It does make a difference. I want Starfleet to know that we’re together. I want us to be a unified front, emotionally, physically, and legally.
“Una, you’ve never been very sentimental.” His eyebrow raises.
Una nods. “I’m not. Not about anything besides you.” She takes a deep breath. "My feelings for you run deep, Chris. I wasted a lot of time not telling you how I felt. I want to make sure we have a way to stay at each other’s sides, even after the accident."
He studies her for a moment. A tentative smile alights itself upon his lips. “You’re sure you really want this?”
Her face softens and her eyes brighten with good humor. “Do I ever ask suggest anything I'm not absolutely sure of?”
His smile blooms and he can’t stop himself from running his thumb over her cheek. This is his Una; his brilliant, beautiful, and surprising Una.
“No, I suppose you don’t.”
“So?”
“So?”
She rolls her eyes playfully. “Will you marry me?”
With a kiss, he gives her a resounding yes.
—
Their wedding is small, private, and more fun than most people expect it to be. Admiral Robert April officiates, apparently having written speeches about the two of them in preparation for their wedding less than a year after he met the two of them.
“It’s about time,” his speech begins, with a laugh.
La’An is Una’s Maid of Honor. M’Benga is Pike’s Best Man. Ortegas insists on being the flower girl. Chapel leads a raucous round of toasts and will not stop tapping her glass with her fork. Sam Kirk is there to compliment the food (which Chris made himself for the occasion), though no one remembers inviting him. Uhura, accompanied by a slightly terrified-looking Spock, sings the wedding march as they walk up the aisle, arm-in-arm. The reception is fairly relaxed, with a larger emphasis on storytelling and laughter than dancing or cake-cutting.
Chris and Una wear their Starfleet dress uniforms. Una’s hair is left down, but she styles it with a few intricate braids around her head that La’An and Chapel insist on twisting with small, white flowers. She looks so enchanting that Chris actually forgets to breathe for a moment when he first sees her coming up the aisle.
Their wedding is perfect in every way.
They have to wait a month before they can honeymoon in Montana; part of their agreement with Starfleet in order to allow them to be married and continue serving together is that they cannot allow their happy occasion to interfere with their duties. That month is filled with plenty of wedding night jokes and heartfelt congratulations and wedding gifts that start to overfill their quarters.
The blue Montana skies are a welcome sight. They spend most of their two weeks away from their ship settled away in Chris’s home, riding horses, drinking coffee, enjoying campfires, and taking walks between the wind turbines around his ranch.
Una insists that, every evening, they sit out on the porch swing and look up at the stars. They’re so bright out at the ranch; she’s never seen skies so clear for stargazing. She can hardly tear her eyes away from the glittering, swirling sky.
Chris can hardly tear his eyes away from her wonder-filled face. There’s a vulnerability that Una has out here, away from their responsibilities, that he hasn’t seen often and he is determined to savor.
They are restless people, however, and heading back to the ship - which, if they’re being perfectly honest, feels more like home anyway - isn’t any cross to bear. They settle back into their usual routine with just a bit more casual affection and with rings on their left hands.
Chris gets to introduce Una as his wife to an ambassadorial delegation a few weeks after their return. He doesn’t stop smiling for the rest of the day.
Una calls Chris her husband in a casual conversation with La’An a few days later and has a similar reaction.
The crew smiles when they see the two of them sitting together in the mess hall. Kyle accidentally calls Captain Pike “Captain Dad” to his face once, which is immediately followed by red cheeks and flustered apologies.
Chris merely chuckles and says: “Just don’t beam my socks off, son.”