Rush fiction

[Mara]

QUOTE (GhostGirl @ May 24 2010, 10:20 AM)

Very nice - I'm so jealous of that bitch Clare I could spit.

And I think she's gonna make an effort at screwing this up somewhere down the road. You know they always do.

[PanaceaFish]

QUOTE (Mara @ May 24 2010, 08:47 AM)

Thanks realo, and thanks PF! (It's not the horndog sexfest you guys are posting over in the Geddy smut section in CP - I mean damn! - I'm trying to keep it "sweet" and maybe a bit sappy for now!) I may throw a little more raunch into it later, if I can get comfortable writing in those terms. Heaven knows I have no trouble thinking in them. . .

CP!?

 

Aw hell, I don't even post there anymore, and either do any of the other GedGals, at least not in that particular thread of GedPorn, anyway...

 

 

[Force Ten]

It's really good Mara - looking forward to the next installment!

[Mara]

Well, another entry completed. Mostly. I'm not overly happy with the way I finished it, but I got tired of fiddling with it, so it'll do for now. It just seems a bit of an awkward, abrupt finish.

 

I'm trying, on the next go-round, to work TRF into the storyline somehow. I'll see if I can't get some names in just for fun, so look for yours.

 

I don't do a whole lot of editing on these - it's mostly what I just pull out of my brain whenever I sit down to look at it. Sometimes I'll get something down that I think is great at the time, but later it seems a bit much, so I'll change it or delete. And yes, I know there are some loose ends that need addressing, and I plan on it.

Edited May 30, 2010 by Mara

[GhostGirl]

QUOTE (Mara @ May 29 2010, 09:35 PM)

Well, another entry completed. Mostly. I'm not overly happy with the way I finished it, but I got tired of fiddling with it, so it'll do for now. It just seems a bit of an awkward, abrupt finish. I'm trying, on the next go-round, to work TRF into the storyline somehow. I'll see if I can't get some names in just for fun, so look for yours. I don't do a whole lot of editing on these - it's mostly what I just pull out of my brain whenever I sit down to look at it. Sometimes I'll get something down that I think is great at the time, but later it seems a bit much, so I'll change it or delete. And yes, I know there are some loose ends that need addressing, and I plan on it.

If TRFers are going to appear in the story, I would like to volunteer to be the one who makes Neil completely forget about ol' what's her name.

[Janie]

QUOTE (Mara @ May 29 2010, 07:35 PM)

I'm trying, on the next go-round, to work TRF into the storyline somehow. I'll see if I can't get some names in just for fun, so look for yours.

"Growing increasingly tired of waiting for the upcoming tour to begin, Alex Lifeson turns to TRF to relieve his boredom. He soon stumbles across a thread devoted to his hot ass body and his thoughts are filled with all the nasty things Janie's gonna..."

 

 

[realomind]

QUOTE (Mara @ May 30 2010, 02:35 AM)

Well, another entry completed. Mostly. I'm not overly happy with the way I finished it, but I got tired of fiddling with it, so it'll do for now. It just seems a bit of an awkward, abrupt finish. I'm trying, on the next go-round, to work TRF into the storyline somehow. I'll see if I can't get some names in just for fun, so look for yours. I don't do a whole lot of editing on these - it's mostly what I just pull out of my brain whenever I sit down to look at it. Sometimes I'll get something down that I think is great at the time, but later it seems a bit much, so I'll change it or delete. And yes, I know there are some loose ends that need addressing, and I plan on it.

Didn't realise there was a part 13...d'oh! Enjoying it very much!

[PanaceaFish]

Heheheheh, and PanaceaFish can be the overly obsessed GedGal!!

 

 

Just read that last bit....very nice, and funny in all the right places! Loved it!

Edited May 30, 2010 by PanaceaFish

[CMWriter]

I'm bumping this because Mara's fic was FREAKING BRILLIANT.

All you people who haven't read it need to right now. I think everyone should. =|

I just spent the past few hours whilst watching the eclipse every few minutes reading through all thirteen parts. I couldn't stop. It was so good!

I want to throw it at all my Twilight-adoring fans and scream, "THIS IS HOW A ROMANCE IS WRITTEN." Heck, I'd send it to S. Meyer herself because I read Twilight and thought my eyes were going to bleed. I read Mara's story and I wanted to cry at how amazing it was.

(...Okay, that's pushing it, but for an unpublished, largely unedited piece? Ho. Ly. Cow.)

 

Mara, if you see this, I posted a review on pretty much every update. They're probably not that helpful (heh..) but they're my spur-of-the-moment reactions to each part/few parts.

 

You've successfully done the thing this writer has never been able to:

Write a real, funny, amazing romance.

Edited December 21, 2010 by CMWriter

[Mara]

QUOTE (CMWriter @ Dec 21 2010, 03:45 AM)

I'm bumping this because Mara's fic was FREAKING BRILLIANT. All you people who haven't read it need to right now. I think everyone should. =| I just spent the past few hours whilst watching the eclipse every few minutes reading through all thirteen parts. I couldn't stop. It was so good! I want to throw it at all my Twilight-adoring fans and scream, "THIS IS HOW A ROMANCE IS WRITTEN." Heck, I'd send it to S. Meyer herself because I read Twilight and thought my eyes were going to bleed. I read Mara's story and I wanted to cry at how amazing it was. (...Okay, that's pushing it, but for an unpublished, largely unedited piece? Ho. Ly. Cow.) Mara, if you see this, I posted a review on pretty much every update. They're probably not that helpful (heh..) but they're my spur-of-the-moment reactions to each part/few parts. You've successfully done the thing this writer has never been able to: Write a real, funny, amazing romance.

You are way, way too sweet!

 

I've ignored this poor blog for far too long. (I used to have lots of dead time at work to post on it, but I've been given Big Girl responsibilities now so I actually have to, you know, work!)

 

See if I can't come up with something soonish.

[CMWriter]

QUOTE (Mara @ Dec 21 2010, 07:45 AM)

You are way, way too sweet! I've ignored this poor blog for far too long. (I used to have lots of dead time at work to post on it, but I've been given Big Girl responsibilities now so I actually have to, you know, work!) See if I can't come up with something soonish.

And you know I'm being sincere. (; I don't jack around when it comes to writing.

Since it'd be mean to make you go navigate through the blog for this one specific question, I'll ask since it's been burning:

Where do you get your intimate knowledge of Neil Peart NASA? I think it's so cool how everything feels really spot-on in terms of how the system works, internal affiars, and all that. It's honestly one of the things that impressed me most.

[Mara]

QUOTE (CMWriter @ Dec 21 2010, 11:59 AM)

QUOTE (Mara @ Dec 21 2010, 07:45 AM) You are way, way too sweet!  I've ignored this poor blog for far too long.  (I used to have lots of dead time at work to post on it, but I've been given Big Girl responsibilities now so I actually have to, you know, work!)  See if I can't come up with something soonish. And you know I'm being sincere. (; I don't jack around when it comes to writing. Since it'd be mean to make you go navigate through the blog for this one specific question, I'll ask since it's been burning: Where do you get your intimate knowledge of Neil Peart NASA? I think it's so cool how everything feels really spot-on in terms of how the system works, internal affiars, and all that. It's honestly one of the things that impressed me most. I'm sort of a NASA junkie and have read a number of biographies and the like. I also spend a fair amount of time on their website.   That said, I am sure there are more than a few egregious errors on my part. If this were a serious effort and I were looking to get published, I'd do more research.

[realomind]

QUOTE (CMWriter @ Dec 21 2010, 03:59 PM)

Where do you get your intimate knowledge of Neil Peart NASA?

Yeah I'd like to know that too...not about NASA...the other bit!

Joking aside, I'll look forward to reading any new additions to the story should you find you have the time at some point, it really was fantastic.

[1 of the 7]

Wow Mara!

 

Just read the very first part of your story - you've not only done your homework on Rush, but NASA as well. I'm a bit of a space junkie myself and had a hobby of meeting astronauts/collecting autographs for a while. Can't wait to read more of your story as I get time!

[FoxxiStarr]

Janie - filthy Lerxst fan fic now please!!!

 

Mara - I'm at work right now but will read your story later!

[Tombstone Mountain]

Clare reminds me of Robert Langdon...I smell adventure. Where's the next chapter? Edited November 7, 2013 by Tombstone Mountain

[ThatLightInYourEyes]

This is awesome, and using NASA as a backdrop in an AU fic with our favorite sci-fi lover is a brilliant idea. Where do most of the TRF members post their fic? Is there a LiveJournal group?

[Babycat]

Mara's story is brilliant! :ebert: :ebert: :ebert:

[Tombstone Mountain]

I feel like I've found the Dead Sea Scrolls of Rush fiction...wow!

[Mara]

OK, you guys are all making me feel really guilty for not having touched this in forever.

 

I got stuck, basically - started several times and never liked what I had. At one point it was flowing along nicely but something happened with stupid blogspot and it all got lost.

 

Maybe I'll go back and mess around with it some, see if I can move things along.

[Babycat]

OK, you guys are all making me feel really guilty for not having touched this in forever.

 

I got stuck, basically - started several times and never liked what I had. At one point it was flowing along nicely but something happened with stupid blogspot and it all got lost.

 

Maybe I'll go back and mess around with it some, see if I can move things along.

 

[Tombstone Mountain]

OK, you guys are all making me feel really guilty for not having touched this in forever.

 

I got stuck, basically - started several times and never liked what I had. At one point it was flowing along nicely but something happened with stupid blogspot and it all got lost.

 

Maybe I'll go back and mess around with it some, see if I can move things along.

No, oh no. It's not lost. It's all in one piece. We have our top experts looking at the documents right now. Wow...you were fiery back then. Romantic Rush fiction. God that sounds more awesome every time I say it out loud.

[Tombstone Mountain]

<!--QuoteBegin-Mara+Jun 10 2009, 06:16 PM--></div><table border='0' align='center' width='95%' cellpadding='3' cellspacing='1'><tr><td><b>QUOTE</b> (Mara @ Jun 10 2009, 06:16 PM)</td></tr><tr><td id='QUOTE'><!--QuoteEBegin--> Okay. Here it is, in all of its mostly raw, semi-edited glory. . .the first 2 "chapters" of Mara's fanfic. . .

I have done no real research here. I know a little about NASA, a little more about Neil (and I have pretty much re-written his bio to suit my needs), and not a damn thing about Houston, which is where this first part takes place.

Have at it. Warning: if you're expecting steam, this is vanilla. Mostly character intro/sketches. I will work on steamy later.

_________________________________________________________________

 

 

Clare stretched out an arm and banged the alarm, hard. Yawning, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat up. Thursday. Good. Clare liked Thursdays. Nothing mindblowing ever happened on Thursdays, and they were followed by Fridays.

She pulled on her running gear, followed by her lightest cycling clothing � she was meeting Steph, Rina, and Fiona at the training facility for a good solid run. She had her work clothes (jeans, sneakers, and polo) and shower supplies stashed in her locker already, so after gulping down a quick cup of coffee while standing at the kitchen sink, she banged out the door, fired up the bike, and zipped out of the neighborhood.

Clare had gotten the bike the previous spring. It was as much of a whim for her as anything ever was, meaning not much. But it had become her favorite means of commuting to and from work, and she rode it rather than drive whenever she had the opportunity.

Now she steered it into the parking lot of the Johnson Space Center Athletic Complex and came to a halt next to Fiona, who was sitting on the hood of her truck. Clare killed the engine and dropped the kickstand, greeting her colleague as she climbed off.

�You do realize,� Fiona remarked, sliding to the ground, �that every guy here just drools when you come roaring up on that thing?�

Clare pulled off her helmet and set it carefully on the seat. �It�s the bike,� she replied. �They�re all married, and their wives won�t let them have one, so they romanticize mine. She�s the ultimate can�t-have bitch.�

Fiona laughed. �Right. You keep telling yourself that, if it makes you feel better.�

She continued stripping off the light armored motorcycle pants and vest. �How far does anyone feel like going today?� she asked.

�Well, I�ll match you as far as you want to go,� was Fiona�s response. �I can�t speak for Rina, but I can almost guarantee you that Steph won�t be good for shit. I saw her leave last night with Jay, dressed to the nines. Dollars to doughnuts she hasn�t had any sleep.�

Clare rolled her eyes. �Jesus. Doesn�t she know better? I mean, she at least shouldn�t be parading around like that with him here. She�s the one who gets in trouble � technically, she�s his superior in the Navy.�

�It was late; I was only here because I�d been swimming and had to go back to my office to get something,� Fiona clarified. �I�m pretty sure I�m the only one who saw, and I sure as hell am not telling. That�s their problem, as far as I�m concerned.�

The object of their discussion pulled into the parking lot at that moment. Indeed, Stephanie did have some dark circles under her eyes, but she also had an ear-to-ear grin. �Morning, everybody. Did we all sleep well?�

�Obviously you didn�t,� Fiona took the opportunity to aim a friendly barb in Stephanie�s direction.

�On the contrary,� Stephanie retorted. �There�s nothing like sleep after a good night of hot sex, sorry, Clare.� Clare�s response was to give her office mate the finger. �I didn�t sleep MUCH, true, but I feel wonderful. You should try it sometime.� She began stretching her calves. �God, but he�s amazing. Goes all night, no Viagra needed.�

�Is this what I have to look forward to when I get old?� Clare couldn�t resist returning the jab. �Endless horniness and one-night stands?�

Steph winked at her. �Who says it�s one night? You�re wasting your youth, my dear. You could have anyone you wanted here. Except, of course, Jay. For now anyway, he�s mine.�

�You�ve nothing to worry about, Steph, � Clare replied as she spotted Rina�s Volkswagen driving in to the lot. �Not my sort, I�m not his, and besides, he�s a colleague. A great friend, yes, but you know my policy.� None of the assembled women was aware of Clare�s brief affair with the subject of their conversation. It had been very short - a couple of months at most � and Clare though of it as a �recovery affair� after her last relationship, which had ended violently and had left Clare somewhat shaken. She and Jay burned out quickly with no hard feelings on either side; on the contrary, it had been something of a bonding experience as far as Clare was concerned. They were close friends now. The affair wasn�t something she felt compelled to share with anyone, though she suspected Jay had let it slip amongst the men.

The chatter and gossip ceased and the four of them set off on their run. Amazingly, no one dropped off. Stephanie, contrary to Fiona�s prediction, stayed with them for what they later determined to be a solid nine miles.

Stephanie brought the conversation back round to Clare�s dating life as the runners strolled around the track to cool off. �Seriously, Clare, I can understand you not wanting to date people you see every day. But I just don�t get it. If I had your looks and your age going for me. . .�

�That�s because you�re a complete horndog, Steph,� Clare teased. �Just kidding. You know it isn�t as if I NEVER date. It�s just not a high priority right now.�

�Yeah, and I don�t get it. I don�t mean that it should be your TOP priority, but really. You have a lot going for you.�

�Well, Stephanie,� Rina interjected, �perhaps Clare feels life is just fine regardless of whether or not she is involved in a relationship. That is not meant as a slam, please understand. Only that Clare is not you, perhaps she is not so horny all of the time.� Slang pronounced in Rina�s careful, Indian-accented English always amused everyone, and the group snickered. Rina merely rolled her eyes � she knew she�d made her point.

Clare shot Rina a grateful look. �Thank you. That�s exactly how I feel. Sure, it would be nice to not have to dig up a date every time there�s some function or other. But I�m not unhappy. Not at all,� The trio turned left towards the athletic building now and Clare jumped in to change the subject.

�Hey, I heard a rumor that they�re looking at delaying launch again for Mike C�s crew. Something to do with the cooling systems? � When in doubt, talk about work. Mission delays were always a safe topic, since they affected everyone to some degree.

After showering and dressing Clare hopped back on the bike � the only time she would dare ride sans helmet or gear � and rode across the Johnson campus to the building that housed her office and those of the NASA team who were working on the next phase of manned spaceflight, called Constellation. It was why she had been chosen, despite her age. The idea was that she would work actively on the design while accruing mission time, and use her experience in space in the design process. Clare took the goal one step further � she intended to fly in what she was helping to put together.

At 30, she was among the youngest in the astronaut corps, certainly the youngest to have actual mission experience. That alone was enough that she�d been a bit of a curiosity for a while. Add that to her single status and staunch refusals to date anyone whose paychecks also bore a NASA signature and the result was that she had some sort of inexplicable (to her, anyway) air of mystery to many of her colleagues. But she also had a reputation as a hard worker, quick thinking and a top-notch team player. With few exceptions, she got along well with everyone.

Her degrees were in Fluid Dynamics and Aerospace Engineering, and her earlier work experience with Boeing. Among her other technical duties, she was assigned right now to the team that was working on the orbital maneuvering systems for the crew capsule, which wouldn�t see any kind of testing for at least another three years; an actual mission for the Constellation program was at least five years out. But she enjoyed that part of her responsibility almost as much as her work as a mission specialist.

She especially liked the team she worked with currently. They were all men and initially hadn�t known what to make of her assignation. There was one other astronaut on the design team, a veteran named Steve Reddick, who had openly challenged her for a few weeks. But she�d earned his respect, not only by the quality of her work, but also by her ability to take a joke, laugh at it. . .and then give as good as she got. Everyone got along, for the most part; there was the occasional turf squabble but it was a well-matched group of individuals.

She greeted them in the kitchen � it was the standard morning routine to have a cup of coffee together and just banter. Then she grabbed a few spec sheets from her workstation and turned to go back to her office for a while; much of what she needed to address could be accomplished from there just as easily.

As she was leaving, Joe Talanero, one of her engineering colleagues who was hoping for an astronaut slot � he had applied for the next selection � waved her over to his cubicle. He was a friendly if shy sort, and Clare hoped he�d make the cut.

The hopeful expression in his eyes reminded her. �Yes, Joe, I did get it finished.� Clare set her briefcase on his desk and rummaged through it, then handed him a sheet of paper . �Not bad. Just tone down the sensitive-guy thing. It sounds like you�re trying too hard to get laid, for one thing. It also says �Wuss�. Women want a guy with some sensitivity, but they do not necessarily want him talking about it. Good luck.�

Joe was already grinning as he read through the personal ad Clare had edited for him. �Lefty, you rock, this is awesome. Thanks so much.�

Clare waved off the thanks. �Good luck, and just invite me to the wedding, okay?� she told him drily and snapped her briefcase closed. �Glad you like it.�

�Hey, is that your ad?� Jeff, one of the graphics techs, had been listening and now he grabbed the sheet of paper from Joe. �Write me one?� he asked Clare.

�No.� Clare was firm. �You know the rules. Write your own, and I�ll edit and correct. And don�t f***ing e-mail it to me like Drew did, either. Duh.� She was referring to an embarrassing incident in which her colleague had sent a half-finished and, truth be told, positively pornographic personal ad to her NASA e-mail account. The ever-vigilant NASA information tech had called both of them on that, understandably curious. They had been satisfied with the explanation, but had suggested it was best that this sort of thing be confined to paper and pen transmittals. Clare agreed wholeheartedly � it hadn�t crossed her mind that anyone might have considered company e-mail a good medium for this sort of thing. Still, Drew had in fact gotten a flurry of responses to the ad Clare had rewritten for him. He�d been dating one of the respondents for six months now, and Drew had confided that he was thinking of proposing. And Clare was now known as the go-to person if you needed someone to write a good personal ad.

Stephanie was already seated at her desk in the small office the two of them shared, talking on the phone. She waved to Clare, and kept talking as Clare dumped briefcase and bike gear in a heap behind her desk.

Clare had an odd relationship with her office mate. As coworkers, they got on quite well professionally. Stephanie was a good twelve years older, married, with two kids. She had one mission under her belt, as did Clare, which was fairly standard for astonauts with their respective experience. Clare had already been named to another crew, however, for a mission scheduled five months upcoming, and Stephanie was jealous. She tried to hide it, but her attitude had cooled noticeably.

Clare was also just a little uncomfortable with being privy to all details of Steph�s vigorous extra-curricular love life. It didn�t have so much to do with any particular moral standpoint � that issue belonged to those involved, was her opinion � but Stephanie�s husband worked at Launch Control. She didn�t like the idea of possibly getting stuck in the midst of something ugly, by virtue of proximity. And too, Jay Olmsted, the naval commander she was currently fooling with, was a very good friend of Clare�s. She worried that there could be professional repercussions for him, should things take a bad turn. It wasn�t out of the question, as both Steph and Jay were still considered active Navy, and Steph was breaking fraternization rules by sleeping with someone of lower rank. Add to that the fact that adultery was considered a big no by the military. . .Clare at least had the comfort of being a civilian and thus not obligated to report anything.

She logged on to her computer and spent the next two hours sending and answering e-mails. She ate lunch early at her desk, and then spent most of the rest of the afternoon in SCUBA training, required for all spacewalkers. Clare was scheduled, at the moment, to be part of two spacewalk teams to install new solar panels on the international space station.

Like all astronauts, Clare had played it cool when she�d been selected for the mission and then again for spacewalks � these were considered �prime� assignations. Inwardly, however, she�d been thrilled beyond belief and had celebrated that night by getting good and drunk, a rarity for her, with her best friend Elliott. Mission training was gearing up to go full blast. She had already taken steps to hand off parts of her Constellation project to the other engineers to continue development. Within a few weeks, every waking moment would be devoted to preparation.

She showered again after SCUBA, and returned to her office. Stephanie was packing up and preparing to leave, and Clare decided she�d just make a quick run through her e-mails and do the same. She had learned, early on, to take advantage of slower, quieter times around the office.

None of the e-mails was urgent, but she had one from Steve in the hydraulics lab asking for some old information she knew she�d stowed away months earlier two floors down in one of the reference rooms. She checked her files to see if she�d uploaded it before stashing it-she hadn�t. No problem � she decided to go ahead and retrieve it from reference file storage in order to save everyone time the following day. She�d lock it in the office, then leave.

Removing information from the reference room � really just one of a series of big storage closets fitted with modular shelving � was done more or less on the honor system. No one guarded the room. Clare signed in and perused the index cards on the shelving ends, looking for what she needed. Since materials were stored here on such a loose system, finding what you were looking for could be a crapshoot. One person�s Fluid Dynamics was another�s Hydraulics, and so on. Fortunately she remembered dropping off this particular binder and found it with little trouble. She noted on the log that she was removing it on that date, flipped off the light and retraced her steps back to the elevator. Halfway down the hall she changed her mind and reversed direction, deciding to take the stairs rather than wait on the building�s one notoriously slow elevator.

About ten paces from the stairwell door Clare paused- there was a distinctive pounding coming from the stairwell area. Not that it frightened her; it was just odd to have any kind of activity on this particular floor at the end of a day. She listened. There it was again. A banging noise, followed by indecipherable shouting. Clare tucked the binder under her armpit and followed the sounds, which grew louder and more impatient as she approached their source. Possibly, she thought, someone was trapped on the other side. It happened.

The noisemaker was in the men�s room nearly opposite the stairs, though. And he was clearly not happy to be there.

WHAM! �Goddammit, is anyone out there? Hello? I�m stuck, the door�s locked, hello?� WHAM! The occupant wasn�t pounding, he was kicking, and the second kick shook the whole frame.

�Jebus, chill out, would you? I�ll see what I can do, if we can�t get the door unlocked then I�ll call someone. Who�s there?� She grasped the door handle and gave it a sharp twist. It wouldn�t budge. She rattled it a few times, knowing it wouldn�t do any good.

�No good. The door�s locked tight.� The man on the other side lowered his voice now that he knew he�d gotten a response. �I don�t know why it did this from the inside, but I have GOT to get out of here. I have somewhere to be.�

He gave the door another solid kick, this time dislodging some dust from the top of the frame.

Annoyed, Clare rapped sharply on the wood. �Knock it off, goddammit! We�ll get you out of here. How�d you get stuck in here anyway? No one�s ever on this floor � it�s mostly storage. Are you even supposed to be over here? Jesus f*ckin� Christ.�

Exasperated sigh from the trapped man. �Look, I got lost, okay? And I needed a bathroom. I didn�t know the goddam door would lock me in. Are you going to help me get out of here or just interrogate me?�

The guy�s attitude was too much. Clare was now officially pissed, and she suspected he wasn�t even supposed to be where he was. �If you don�t� � she lowered her voice � �calm down, act civilly, and stop behaving as if I personally locked you in there, then yes, I will just f**k off home and pretend I never saw you. I might, around nine or ten tonight, remember that there was someone stuck in a bathroom and call security�-

�No!� Now the man�s voice became a plea. �Look, I�m sorry, just very, very, anxious. My name is Neil, I was on a group tour, I got lost, and I really, really do have to be somewhere soon. Please, help me get out of here. I�m sorry I snapped at you. This is just stressing me some. I�m sorry. Don�t leave me in here, please.�

Clare calmed a bit. She could see his point; getting locked in a bathroom would frustrate just about anyone. �Okay, Neil. Apology accepted. Now. I am going to go upstairs to my office and get some tools. Sit tight. We�re either going to remove the lock, or take the door off the hinges. I�ll be up and back as fast as I can, it�s two floors. I�ll over look the fact that you are, apparently , one of those nosy tourists. Can you manage a few without taking the building apart?�

�I think I can do that.� There was still a trace of irritation in Neil�s tone, but he did sound contrite. �Thanks for helping.�

She bolted up the steps to her office and rummaged around on the floor for her tool bag. Shit. It had to be here � or had she left it in her locker in the training facility? Just as she was considering tempting fate by borrowing Stephanie�s tools, Clare unearthed hers beneath a discarded dry-erase board. She sorted through them, grabbed what she knew she�d need and what she thought she might possibly need, and ran back downstairs.

�Hey,� she called out, letting him know she�d returned. �All right. I have tools. One way or another, we�ll free you.�

�You�re back.� Neil actually sounded surprised.

�You thought I really was going to leave you here?� Clare fitted a short Phillips head tip on the end of her cordless screwdriver and gave it a spin.

�I didn�t know. You sounded mad.� He was still stressed, she could tell, but he also sounded contrite. �I�m sorry, again.�

�Well, okay. I�m dying to know how you got separated from a tourist group two floors and about a half-block away, though. � She kept her voice light, kidding him a little. �Now, I�m going to start peeling the screws out of the hinges, starting at the bottom. When I get near the top I�ll need you to hold the door so it stays level. I don�t want it falling on either of us or tearing the jamb apart.�

�Am I going to be in trouble for messing with government property.?� Poor guy. He actually sounded worried.

�You could be, I guess. If I chose to hand you over. Right now the worst you can expect is maybe a parking ticket because you are here past regular hours without a parking sticker. Keep being nice, and it stays that way. Now hush, and let me start here.�

Neil said nothing as Clare began backing the screws out of the hinges. It was easier said than done, however, as the door probably hadn�t been touched since the building was erected in the 1960�s. Still, her screwdriver had been developed for use in space and with a little pressure Clare managed to work them free.

�Okay,� she told Neil ,who had remained silent through the entire operation. �One hinge left. The top one. I need you to lean hard against the door, and push up so that it stays level. Tell me when you�re ready.�

�Okay,� he said presently. �Ready when you are.� Clare removed the last four screws, and came face to face with the man she�d just freed from a men�s room.

Or rather, she came face-to-chest. He was tall, over six feet, and looked to be somewhere in his late thirties, with short dark hair and startlingly green eyes. As Clare raised her head and took a step back so she could see him, he blushed furiously.

�Thanks,� he stammered, looking nervous. �I�m really, really sorry. Thank you.�

Clare folded her arms and leaned against the wall. �You�re welcome. Relax. I�m not going to turn you in. I will, however, walk you out. How on earth did you get in here?�

Neil turned an even darker shade of red. �I really was with a tour group. I uh, wandered off. Being nosy. I admit it.� He swallowed hard, then peered at Clare�s shirt, which had the NASA gold astronaut wings embroidered on it. �Hey. You�re one of the astronauts.� Now he looked impressed.

�I am.� She realized she hadn�t introduced herself, and put her hand out. �Well, Mr. Neil Canada, I�m Clare. Shall we go?�

He took her hand lightly, seeming a bit less flustered now. �I um, guess so. Wow. You�re really an astronaut? And how did you know I�m Canadian?�

�Oh please.� Clare retrieved her hand, but not before noticing that his long fingers bore a few callouses. �That accent�s a dead giveaway. I worked with some CSA crew for a bit, and we have them rotating in here all the time. Let�s go; I thought you said you had somewhere to be?�

�I do, yes.� But the man hesitated before following her. �Is there perhaps a phone I can use? I have a cell,� he added, apologetically, � but it doesn�t appear to work very well here. I need to let my band- my colleagues know I�m running late.�

Clare laughed. �Yeh, welcome to Johnson Space Center. Home of the most advanced technology around, but just TRY to get a clean cell transmission. I don�t even carry mine on me. If I�m not in my office, I�m not reachable. You can use my office phone. I need to put these tools away anyhow and I might as well just leave with you.� She looked up at him again. �What brings you to Houston in August anyway, Mr. Canadian Neil-guy?� Jesus, Clare, what on earth has you so gabby? She wondered to herself. It was true. The man from the bathroom seemed to have prompted an urge to chatter endlessly. Well, he seemed so uncomfortable and awkward, she told herself. It just seemed to be the nice thing to try to put him at ease.

Neil cleared his throat. �Work, actually. I�m here until Saturday night. I�ve been to Houston before, but never to Johnson. How long have you been an astronaut?� In an effort to avoid anything with a door that might lock, Clare had taken the lead back to the elevator, and now they waited, and waited.

�Five years,� Clare answered. �One mission, but� �

Neil interrupted. �You�re scheduled for the upcoming December mission, as the lead Mission Specialist. With two spacewalks scheduled to make some repairs to the ISS solar arrays,� he finished, and grinned at her.

�Oh God,� Clare exclaimed, rolling her eyes. �Shit! I should have known.� �You�re a contractor. Or a salesman, sneaking around. Christ, you guys stop at nothing, do you? You know you�re supposed to have an appointment and check in over at procurement, and have an escort.� She stared fiercely at Neil, who looked, if anything, completely bewildered at her accusations. �In fact, you look sort of familiar, I�ve seen you around here somewhere before. . � The elevator finally reached them and she shoved her way past him.

�No, Clare, no, I�m sorry, it�s nothing like that.� Neil protested. He looked for all the world as though he wished he could redo the entire afternoon. �No. Please listen. I know this whole thing is rather odd. . .�

� �Rather� odd? I�d say completely f***ing odd, pal, sneaking into the Admin building.� Clare punched the button for her floor with several more foot-pounds of force than necessary. �Didn�t you know astronauts don�t make any decisions anyway?�

�No, yes, what I�m trying to tell, you, Clare� � now Neil sounded mildly exasperated � �is that I am not a salesman. Or affiliated in any way with astronauts, or space shuttles, or space in general, other than that I occupy some of it. I just find the program fascinating, and I looked up the website last night since I knew I would be coming here, is all.� He stopped. Sighed.

�If you must know I�m a musician. I�m here for concerts at MinuteMaid park tomorrow and Saturday nights. Where I am supposed to be half an hour ago is at the park, for a soundcheck and short rehearsal. That�s why I need to use your phone, because at this moment I am undoubtedly being cursed up, down, and sideways by my bandmates and the rest of the crew for being late.�

The elevator stopped, doors opened, and Clare, chastened, put her hand on the door to keep it from closing again and tried to apologize. �Shit, I�m sorry. Really, I am. Forgive me. We�ve always and forever got salespeople trying to sneak around and bug everyone. Or find out what their competition is up to. Seriously. I wasn�t expecting you to know who I am. It�s just been a weird experience, is all.� She looked him in the eyes, noticing again how intensely green they were. There was something oddly familiar about him, she was certain of that.

Neil touched her shoulder very, very lightly as he followed her off the elevator and down the hallway. �No. I screwed up royally. Don�t apologize. You�ve been great. � He lifted his hand as they came to a stop at the office doorway, and she could still feel his touch.

�Phone�s there.� Clare pointed to her desk. �Sorry about the mess.� She didn�t know why she felt compelled to apologize for her sloppiness.

�Nice.� Neil made no move for the phone, just looked around.

�Yeah.� Clare couldn�t help smiling. �We like to call this style of d�cor, �Modern Bureaucrat.� And he laughed then, a low, warm, sound that prompted a laugh from herself. To cover her sudden awkwardness, Clare moved around behind him and gathered her cycling gear off of the floor. �Don�t mind me. I�m just going to dress for the ride home while you make your call.�

Neil stll held the receiver in one hand. �Ride? As in motorcycle?� He looked fascinated.

Clare grinned at him. �Yep. I do. Not long, but I promised myself when I got the bike six months ago that I�d never go without all the gear. Houston drivers are assholes. Do you ride?�

�No.� Neil shook his head. �I�d kind of like to, but I�m not sure if I could learn.�

�You can.� Clare zipped her leathers up her left leg. �Your body learns. Seriously, take a course.�

�I might do that,� Neil replied. There was a moment of uncomfortable, charged silence between them, and then Neil seemed to remember why he was up here. He dialled the phone. �Michael, yeah, it�s me. No, I�m fine, don�t sound the alarm. Traffic issue� � he colored slightly at the lie, and Clare raised one eyebrow and gave him a look of mock admonishment. To her surprise, he smiled, and in fact almost laughed � �no, it�s going to be a little while. Yes, look, can you get me Larry? I really do apologize� He waited, then apparently the Larry person he wanted came on the line. Another long apology, with a fake explanation. �No, no. I don�t expect anyone to hang around late on my account. Yeah, I screwed up. Sorry. Yes, I�ll see everyone later. Yes, I know how to get back and where to go.� He hung up then. �Well, shit. I�ve blown it. They finished already. . .�

�Rush!� Clare blurted out, then clenched her jaw in embarrassment as she watched the color drain from Neil�s face, to be replaced with a look of resignation. She remembered why he looked familiar. �Er, you�re in them. In it. A band member. Something like that. There�s, there�s posters in some of the offices. Lots of guys are fans. Popular around these parts. That�s where I recognize you.�

Now Neil definitely looked uncomfortable. �Only fair, I suppose, since I �made� you. Yes. You are correct. I am in Rush. Drums, to be precise.� Then he gave her a mildly sardonic smile, which reached his eyes. �I gather,� he said a little drily, �you aren�t a fan?�

�Oh no, it isn�t that.� Clare didn�t want to hurt his feelings. �I like the music, they play it quite a bit. I don�t follow the band or anything, but I don�t follow anything much. That�s why I didn�t recognize you.� She stopped then as a realization dawned suddenly on her. �You like that I didn�t recognize you, don�t you?�

Neil shrugged a little, but the corners of his mouth were upturned just a bit. �Well, on the one hand, the plus would have been that you probably wouldn�t have cussed me out for being where I wasn�t supposed to be. The downside is that maybe everyone would have found out that I was locked in a men�s bathroom. There�s more than a degree of ignominy in that, don�t you think? But to give a succinct answer to your question, yes, it�s nice to not be recognized and be treated. . .differently. Even though you swore at me and threatened to leave me there.� He tipped his head slightly, still smiling. There was a spark in his eye that made her legs feel a little funny.

�I understand what you�re saying. But better that than a women�s bathroom.� Clare was fully geared up now for the ride home; she picked up her helmet. �So. Uhm, do you know how to get back? Do you need me to lead you where you�re going?� Funny, she thought, but she realized she really was not ready to say goodbye and send him on his way. As strange and awkward as the afternoon had been, she felt a keen urge to just stand here and keep talking.

�Well, actually, if I could follow, that�d be ideal. But,� Neil hesitated for a moment, then blushed faintly and said, �would it be asking too much for you to let me call you later? Maybe get together? I have free time over the next couple of days. That sounds so lame,� he added, �but would that be okay?�

Now it was Clare who felt awkward. �Sure,� she said, not a little startled. She rummaged around for some scrap paper, on which she scribbled her two contact numbers. �Office and home,� she indicated. �No cell � I just don�t use it much. For reasons stated earlier.�

Neil took the piece of paper and folded it carefully into his wallet, not bothering to conceal his pleasure at Clare�s response. �Wow,� he said, nearly beaming, �thanks. Yeah, I dunno, there�s something. . . Thanks. Now I don�t want to hold you up. . .�

They walked out of the building together, but Neil was unable to remember where in relation to the Administration building he�d left his rental car. �Shit,� he said aloud, �I have, apparently, no sense of direction. Pardon my French,� he apologized, glancing at her.

She grinned. �Sounded like good old-fashioned Anglo-Saxon to me,� she replied, wiping sweat off of her brow. �Look, we could be searching all night. And it�s hot. Let�s you hop on the bike behind me and we�ll drive around. � Neil agreed without hesitation and climbed on the Ninja behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. Despite the heat, Clare shivered a little, feeling that same frisson she�d had earlier when he�d touched her shoulder. She masked it with a shouted warning to �hang on� , throttled the bike, and took off across the Johnson parking maze. Neil gave a stifled shout of surprise and delight, then she heard � and felt, since his chest was pressed against her back - him laugh. He had a nice laugh, she thought. Deep and resonant and spontaneous.

She kept the speed down, aware that her passenger didn�t have a helmet. After a couple of false identifications, they found the rental car parked in front of the main building, in one of the reserved visitor spaces. It had a ticket on the windshield. Clare pulled up next to it, feeling again that weird mixture of relief � on Neil�s behalf � and disappointment � hers.

Neil dismounted. �Wow, too bad we found the car so quickly,� he said. �That was fun.�

Clare, too, got off the bike, leaving it idling. She flipped her visor up and reached around Neil to retrieve the ticket. �I�ll get rid of this,� she told him. �No big deal, just overstaying parking. You still want to follow me? �Cause I need to know where we�re going.�

Neil gave a slight sigh coupled with a look of . . .resignation? Reluctance to leave? �It�s the Westin. The one right next to the stadium. You�re sure you don�t mind this?�

�No, I really don�t. It�s fine, � Clare reassured him. �I�ll get you to the exit, at least; it�s easy-peasy from there.� She paused, then added, �Look. It�s been a really,um, interesting afternoon, to say the least. But I can�t say it was awful. Most of it. So. . .drive safe. . .�

Neil finished the sentence by putting his arms around her in a gentle hug, which was slightly clumsy thanks to the helmet. Clare froze, startled, for a moment, then returned the gesture. He felt good, she thought, wondering why this surprised her.

�I don�t regret it at all,� Neil was saying. �Except for the embarrassment aspect. I�m sorry I was such a jerk. Thank you. And I will call.� He let his arms drop. Their eyes met, and Clare dropped her visor quickly, hoping he hadn�t seen her blush.

She waited for him to get the car started before giving the bike some throttle. He stayed behind her, but not following too closely, and she kept an eye on him in her mirror. At the exit to the Astrodome, she lifted a hand from the grips and waved and saw Neil do the same with an arm out the window. Well, that�s that, she thought, then gunned the bike and took a longer route than usual back home. He wouldn�t call, she knew. Not that he wasn�t genuinely grateful to her, or that he hadn�t been maybe flirting a little. It was just that the timing and circumstances were far too strange. The hug had been nice, though.

It was entirely unlike any Thursday she could remember.

_______________________________________________________________

 

The voice of Leroy Cain, the Flight Operations Director, buzzed in her ear like a fly outside a window � distant and droning. Clare and the rest of the STS-124 astronauts and support crew had been stuck in the auditorium for most of the morning, getting various briefings on changes and status of variables affecting their flight. These meetings weren�t unusual, and they were necessary. Mark Kozersky, the Commander, was still developing the flight plan, and everything had to be taken into account. But it was almost lunch time, and everyone was getting restless.

Except Clare. She�d been in a half-fog since waving goodbye to Neil the Canadian drummer for Rush (she had realized she�d never gotten his last name and made a mental note to look it up. No way was she asking anyone she worked with. They�d have the answer, but they would want to know why she was asking. Clare was good at keeping secrets but terrible at telling lies).

Manny Ceriso, another MS from her class assigned to her crew, poked her in the ribs with his pen, and Clare jumped. �Crew announcements today. Outpost after work?� he whispered. Clare nodded absently. The now-storied Outpost was the traditional gathering spot for celebrations whenever new crew assignments were made.

Manny gave her a strange look. He�d expected more of a reaction from her, obviously, but Clare was definitely preoccupied. No, Neil hadn�t called her, but she hadn�t expected him to. And she wasn�t exactly obsessing over him, but the encounter had definitely sparked something in her. She felt oddly detached from things, but still somehow alert and hyper-aware.

Which was a good thing, because Mark had just turned in his seat to ask her a question. Clare removed her pen from her mouth and gave a detailed but concise explanation of her opinion regarding the procedure under discussion. So she wasn�t utterly useless. Just. . .pre-occupied.

Finally, the meeting broke up after another hour and the participants charged out of the auditorium in search of food. Clare had brought her own � some protein powder and a few bars to choose from � but she wasn�t hungry. No surprise there, given her current frame of mind. Still, she was scheduled to finish the day on SCUBA so eating really wasn�t optional � the exercise took a lot out of a person. With that in mind she headed for the small kitchen near her office.

�Whoa, shit!� Arms flailed and Clare teetered off balance, having narrowly missed a collision with Fiona. �Sorry �bout that,� she apologized.

Fiona let go of the door jamb, which she�d grabbed in order to remain on her feet. �No problem, it�s okay. Just slow down.� She peered at Clare a little more closely. �Lefty, are you okay? You�ve seemed, I don�t know, out of it all morning.�

�I�m fine,� Clare reassured her friend. �Just a few things on my mind, is all.�

�Lemme guess,� Fiona said. �Guy trouble.� She was kidding, but Clare�s expression must have given something away, because her mouth opened wide in amazement. �Oh my God, it IS man-related! Shit, I was just kidding.�

�No, really, it�s not anything like that,� Clare protested. �Well, okay, yes, I did meet someone interesting, but that�s all there is to it. Promise. And that�s all there WILL be to it. It was just. . .interesting.� She shrugged.

Fiona leaned against the wall, all ears. �Sorry, Lefty, can�t help it. The look on your face says more. No worries, I�m not going to be like Stephanie and pester you about it, but I can�t help but be curious. So there�s no date or anything? Obviously he made some kind of impression on you. Feel free to tell me to shut my trap or mind my own business.�

�There�s no business to mind,� Clare said plainly. �Yeah, he got my number, no, I don�t expect he�ll call. He doesn�t live here. It wouldn�t make sense.�

�What happened, exactly? Doesn�t live here?�

�Really, nothing,� Clare said, a little reluctantly. �I just happened to help him out with something, and he was nice, is all. Nothing earth-shattering.�

Fiona got the hint. �Right. I won�t bother you about it. But you might want to try to snap out of this fuzz around your office-mate. I love her, you know that, but Steph will hammer it to death. She�s like a bloodhound when it comes to relationship and dating stuff. But I don�t have to tell you that.�

Clare gave a laugh. �No, you don�t. Although I think she�s so busy getting screwed silly right now that she might not notice anyone else.�

�Don�t count on it. Hey, you hittin� Outpost later?�

�I�ll be there,� Clare promised. �Do you know anything about the crew announcements?�

�Not a thing,� Fiona replied. �Guess we�ll find out later. See you there. You in SCUBA for the rest of the day?�

�Aye, Captain,� Clare confirmed. �I�m nearly done with all of this prelim stuff; I�ve been trying to time it so I�m fresh, but not too inexperienced, for the main phase.� Most of Clare�s training for the mission, along with Manny and Scott, would take place in the Neutral Buoyancy Lab, where they would be simulating the work to be done on their EVAs. Scott was a veteran spacewalker, with over 100 hours of EVA time. This was Manny�s first mission.

She gulped down her protein shake and munched a handful of crackers for the extra energy boost, and glanced at her watch. Good, she had a half hour or so to drop by her office.

The light was off and Stephanie was nowhere to be seen. As Clare was logging on to her computer, she noticed the �message� light on her phone flashing. Curious, she lifted the receiver, punched in her code, and waited while the electronic voice informed her that she had nine messages. Seven of them turned out to be hang-ups. Exasperated, she considered dropping the receiver back on its cradle prior to the eighth. Instead, she pressed the pound key and was greeted by another few seconds of silence. Just as she was about to dump the non- message and hang up, a male voice filled her ear.

�Hi, um, Clare, it�s Neil.� He sounded very nervous, and Clare realized he�d probably been the one who had hung up the previous seven times. Her heart skipped a beat as he continued. �Anyway, I was wondering, I mean, if you�re free tonight, kinda late, maybe, after the show. I�d like you to actually see the show, but I don�t know if you want to, and maybe tomorrow night would be better.�

Clare felt a smile creep, unbidden, across her face as Neil cleared his throat and continued leaving his message. �So anyway, if you want to call me back, you can, I don�t know what your schedule is so I�m not sure you�ll get this message in time. We have sound check at four-thirty, then the show is at seven-thirty, and I�ll be done around ten-thirty. So it would be late, but I�d like to see you.�

God, he really is nervous as hell, Clare thought, shaking her head in wonder. It was, she also thought, rather endearing.

�Anyway, call me if you want to get a late meal or coffee or just get together, I�m sure Houston has some kind of nightlife. Sorry this message was so long.� Click.

�Shit,� Clare said out loud. �Neil, you didn�t leave a number!� But then the electronic voice was prompting her again, and sure enough, the ninth and final message was Neil leaving his cell number. If he�d been nervous before, now he sounded positively mortified. Clare wrote the number � his cell � on a sticky and slapped it on her monitor.

Okay, she thought. So what now? After ten-thirty was fine as far as she was concerned. She would have liked to go to the concert, but not necessarily by herself. Maybe tomorrow. . .

So what now?

Call him back, she decided. She dialed the number he�d left. Two rings, and then, �Hello?�

�Neil, hi, it�s Clare, I got your message.� Her own heart was hammering away madly now, and she found she was having to be careful to keep her voice calm. �Good timing, because I�m between things right this second. On my way to SCUBA training at two.�

�Good, I�m glad - I didn�t know how much time you spend in your office.� Neil sounded surprised to hear from her, she thought. Partly relieved, in fact. �So I�m kind of sorry about the late hour, but would it work?�

�Absolutely,� Clare told him. �I�m sort of a vampire as far as the hours I like to stay up � bed never before two if I have my way � so yes, that�s fine.�

�Oh, wow, great,� Neil responded. �So, okay, how do you want to do this? Do you want to come to the venue, or meet somewhere? I would love to have you here for the show, but I�m not subjecting you to that if you don�t want to go, plus having to meet everyone. If you want,� he slowed and took a breath � �we�ll see about tomorrow. It�ll be up to you. I�m getting ahead of myself, though. . .�

Clare gave what she hoped was something approximating a reassuring chuckle. �Okay, well, I have a sort of an informal, um, thingy, with a bunch of the guys from work after. It�s no big deal, we�re just going for a few beers and stuff at the local dive. We had some crews announced today for upcoming missions, and it�s sort of a tradition. I won�t be out late; I have the bike for one thing and I�m not comfortable riding in the dark on a weekend. So why don�t you call me at home when you�re done. You can come meet me there, and I�ll drive. Yes, Houston has some nightlife, but it�s a little lower-key out where I live. Better late-night food, for one thing.�

�That works. Well, all right,� he told her. �I�ll call you when we�re on intermission then, give you a little advance notice. Very good. I�m looking forward to it.�

�Me too,� Clare agreed. She meant it. She was still surprised he�d called her at all. �Yes, please give me a little warning. It�ll give me a chance to take the locks off of all my bathroom doors. . .�

Neil laughed for real now, sounding much more relaxed since Clare had actually called him back. �Oh no. I can already tell I won�t live that down. Does anyone there know? I didn�t have it in me to admit to anyone here why I ran late.�

�Nope,� she reassured Neil. �Not a soul. Secret�s safe with me. Listen, I need to scamper, but I�ll talk to you later?�

�Definitely. I�ll call, probably around nine-ish. Take care and all, and have fun this evening. See you tonight.�

�Bye.� Clare hung up the phone. Now she felt close to bursting with excitement. She was dying to find Fiona and tell her, but a glance at her watch confirmed that there was no time. She needed to be suited and poolside in fifteen minutes which was just barely doable at a dead run. She broke one of her cardinal rules and for the first time ever rode the motorcycle sans gear over to the training facility. On the way to the locker rooms she saw Stephanie and Jay leaving the NBL together �odd, because Stephanie had no upcoming mission � but merely threw them a wave. No time to stop and chat. She made it to the pool with three minutes to spare. Not the ten that the instructor � a retired Marine � preferred, but it would have to do.

Three and a half hours later, she stepped out of the shower and towelled off, then quickly twisted her hair back into its usual braid. The SCUBA had gone well; in fact, Aaron, the instructor, had told her she was ready for the NBL and wouldn�t be needing to schedule any further training. Amazing, she thought, since she�d worried the entire time that she was too excited and distracted over her pending date.

Dressed, but once again gearless except for the helmet, Clare biked back over to Administration to make a last-minute e-mail check and to grab the things she�d be taking home. No more phone messages awaited her, and, thank god, no urgent e-mails. She fired off a quick one to her crew about passing SCUBA training; hopefully she�d be working in the NBL soon.

As she was zipping in to her motorcycle leathers for the one-mile ride to The Outpost, Elliott knocked on her door. �Hello? I�m looking for Dr. Lefebvre, used to work here? She never calls or writes me anymore, so. . .�

�Ells, hi! I know, I suck, I�m sorry,� she apologized to her best friend. She had known Elliott literally since she�d been in utero, and loved him like a brother. They�d been inseparable growing up, even gone to college together, and everyone assumed they�d marry eventually. Except that Elliott was gay. NASA knew, overlooked it, and after getting to know the quiet, thoughtful Elliott, most of the astronauts never gave it another thought. Even the military guys were, for the most part, at least cordial to him. He had yet to be assigned to a crew, though, and Clare suspected there was an ugly truth behind this. If Elliott thought the same, though, he never let on.

�Forgiven, if you�re going to The Outpost now.�

�I am, in fact. For a little while. So what�s doing? Come on.� Clare picked up her briefcase in one hand, helmet in the other. �Walk out with me.�

�I have news,� Elliott informed her as she locked the office door and they strolled off down the hall. His face was beaming. �Care to guess what it is?�

Clare had a pretty good idea, just judging from Elliott�s expression, but she kidded around a little anyway. �You found the perfect shoes to go with that Prada evening gown you got on sale?�

�Hag,� Elliott said. It was a game they played.

�Bitch.� Clare countered.

�Whore.�

�Ass bandit.�

�Gutter slut.� It was a new one.

�You win. Okay, spill it, what�s the news?�

�Well, of course I wanted my best friend in the world, even though she�s apparently been too busy for me, to know first. . .That. I. Elliott Gatewood. Am. � He turned to face her, walking backwards. �Assigned to a f***ing crew!� He gave an exultant yell, and Clare joined him.

�Oh my God, Els, it�s about goddam time! When? Which mission? Who else?� she demanded. �Shit, I wish we could work a mission together!�

�130,� Elliott answered, still beaming. �In eighteen months. The longest year and a half of my life. Fergie�s CDR, and he specifically requested me as MS. He came to tell me personally too.�

Clare hugged her friend, overcome with happiness for him. �Elliott, I am so happy for you!�� She dropped her belongings and gave her friend an enormous hug.

�Thanks. I knew you would be,� Elliott returned the hug. �So how�s about you and I go grab a movie, hit the town after The Outpost? It�s been forever since we just hung out. Shit, I�d even be fine with just getting stinking drunk and hanging around the pool at your place.�

Clare felt her heart sink � Elliott was right. �Aw shit, Elliott, I would love to. And we will, but�-

He interrupted her with an exaggerated sigh. �But you have some kind of five-hundred mile run scheduled early tomorrow. Or you�re cleaning the pool tiles individually. C�mon, Clare�-

�Elliott, no, it isn�t that,� Clare protested. �Look, we will, but tonight I� �

�Oh sweet Mother of God. You have a date, don�t you?� Elliott knew her well, no doubt about it. He stepped back and peered into her face, and Clare knew any pretense was useless. �You do. Oh my god, two miracles in one day! I get assigned to a crew and Clare has a date!�

�Ells, chill,� Clare said. �Okay, look, yes, I have a date, okay? �

�No, it isn�t okay,� her friend insisted. �Not until I get all of the details. I have to pre-approve, you know.� He winked at her. �Dirt, baby girl,� Elliott demanded. �Now.�

Clare sighed. There would be no putting Elliott off. On the plus side, she could trust him absolutely to keep it under his hat. And it would be nice to share her excitement with someone. �All right. Keep walking, I�ll tell you. I know, of course, that you�ll keep it quiet.�

She skipped over the part about how exactly she had met Neil, and decided also to leave out the particulars of his occupation. That he was the well-known drummer of a band revered by seemingly everyone at NASA could possibly be information that even Elliott might not be able to keep to himself. Which reminded her � she�d forgotten to look up Neil�s last name.

�So basically you�re just hooking up with some tourist?� Elliott was puzzled. �I mean, not that there�s anything wrong with it, I guess. It just seems odd for you, Miss Finicky�-

�No, it�s hard to explain,� Clare tried. �Look, I don�t know what to say, exactly, but there�s more to it than that. I can tell you more later, if anything comes of it. Even if anything doesn�t, I�ll give you the whole story. Promise.�

Elliott was persistent. �It�s someone famous, isn�t it.�

�Elliott, please. Just let it go, maybe help me pick out what to wear tonight, and I WILL tell you everything.� Thank god, they had reached the parking lot and Clare stood, hand on bike. �I�ll see you there?� She was hot in her leathers and wanted to get moving.

Elliott kissed her cheek. �Fair enough. We�ll talk later. See you in a few.�

The Outpost Bar and Grill, located a little over a mile from the Johnson complex, was busy, but surprisingly not packed. Usually crew announcements were a big gathering point � it was a time-honored tradition for most of the astronaut corps to gather at a bar and congratulate the lucky astronauts who had been assigned to upcoming missions. There were a number of missing faces on this occasion, however.

�Everyone�s gone to that damn concert,� Elliott announced dejectedly as soon as he spotted Clare. �You�d think it was the event of the year, or something.�

�What concert?� Clare asked, innocently, and then nearly bit her tongue as she put two and two together a half-second late.

�Rush, of course,� Fiona had seen Clare come in, and she brought her beer over and joined Elliott and Clare. �I�m going tomorrow night, but there�s a huge contingent there now. They skipped out early to catch soundcheck and everything. Some people are going to both shows.�

�So it�s that big a deal, huh. I didn�t know you were a fan as well.� Clare replied, casually.

�Clare, I can�t believe you�re employed here and you AREN�T a fan,� Fiona countered as she spotted an empty table by the window and claimed it by setting her purse in one of the chairs. �Hell, they�re an institution here. Next time you�re at Kennedy, check the pictures hanging in the Launch Control building. There�s a signed one of the band, all three, they were at the inaugural Columbia launch.� She took a swallow of her drink. �You should go. Even if you aren�t familiar with the music, it�s an amazing show. All three are among the best on their respective instruments. Their drummer is generally considered the best rock drummer ever. He�s incredible to watch.�

Clare felt her heart flutter oddly, and she looked quickly to her left as she sat down, worried that she might be giving herself away. Instead she locked eyes with a rather exuberant-looking Jay Olmsted. It was an opportunity to change the subject. �Hey, Jay, how many crews got named?�

�Three! And I�m CDR on one of them!� He had an ear-to-ear grin as he dropped into the seat next to Clare�s. �Elliott, congratulations. If Ferg hadn�t chosen you I would have. You�ve been kept waiting for too f***ing long for the wrong f***ing reason. I�m happier for you than for myself.�

�Thanks,� Elliott said, and Clare knew he meant it. Jay was one of the astronauts whose military background had given him cause to object, initially, to Elliott�s being gay. But he had also been open-minded enough to change his opinion after working with and getting to know the guy, and he had been big enough to admit it and apologized for his �ignorant attitude�, as he�d put it. That particular action had in turn helped with a few attitude shifts among the rest of the corps, and for this, and other reasons, Clare counted him among her closest friends.

�Lefty, I�m buying,� he informed her. �What can I get you?�

Clare grinned. �Thanks, Jay, but I can�t stick around too late. And I�m on the bike, so I can�t really drink. But I�m really, really happy for you.� She clicked her water glass against the top of Jay�s beer bottle. �Congratulations.�

�Ohh, mysteries abound.� Rina had arrived, still dressed in her blue flight suit; evidently she�d been to Ellington Field. �Clare, I hear there is a man in your life somewhere.� She accepted a beer from the roving barman � Jay had apparently instructed the bar staff to make sure everyone had a drink in hand � and sat.

�Jesus, Ree, where�d you hear that?� Clare turned an accusing stare in Fiona�s direction. �Talk of making a big deal out of nothing.�

Fiona had the good grace to look guilty, at least. �Sorry,� she offered. �But you have no idea how many people were remarking on your, um, strange attitude today. Admit it, you were distracted.�

�I am admitting nothing. God, you people act like I�m some kind of ascetic or misandrist or some sexless cultist or something.� She stared round at her friends. �Okay,� she lowered her voice. �Yes, I do have a date tonight. Yes, it is a first date. No, it is no one any of you know. Yes, if anything works out then you will get to meet him. No, I have no big expectations. He doesn�t even live in this state. Are you all satisfied?�

�Are ya gonna, you know,� Jay made an obscene, grade-school gesture with his hands, �do him?� He cackled wickedly.

�Jay, I,� Clare wanted to reprimand Jay, say something sharp in response, but broke down in a fit of giggles instead and started to choke. That was Jay. She absolutely could not get mad at him. No one could. He pounded her helpfully on the back.

�Oh, come on Clare,� Fiona spoke up. �Yeah, you are catching an unfair amount of shit, I�ll grant you that, but in a way you have to see the point. Someone who looks like you do, who everyone likes, who writes kick-ass personal ads for every single guy here. . .it�s just� �

�Uh-oh. Speaking of doing people.� Rina had been gazing round the bar while listening to the conversation, and now she snapped her head back in their direction. � Jay, you might wish to make like a fetus and leave.� Before anyone could correct her mixup of the idioms, she pointed discreetly in the direction of the door.

Stephanie was there, and she was angry and talking heatedly to someone. The someone turned out to be her husband, and he had grasped her firmly by the arm. As the small group watched, Mike Miller steered his wife outside, where further shouts were exchanged. Then Stephanie wrenched her arm free and re-entered The Outpost, stopping for a moment to compose herself. Her husband stood outside for a moment, staring in, then turned abruptly on his heel and disappeared across the parking lot.

�It would appear,� Clare said, breakingthe silence at their table, �that Mr. Miller is at least semi-aware of what�s going on. Jay, honestly, you need to rethink this one.�

The Navy test pilot sighed. �You�re right, I know. But there�s a lot more there than you know. She�s lonely, she really is, guys. Cut her a little slack. Yes, she can be a little prickly, I know, but she�s also a lot of fun. Her husband doesn�t do a lot around the home and leaves most of the child-raising to Steph. So really, it�s hard to blame her for wanting to get out and cut loose once in a while. �

Clare snorted. �Lonely,� she repeated. �Yeah, and you�re her white knight. She has a husband and two kids, J. I don�t guess she got named to a crew?� Clare hoped the opposite was true. It would certainly improve Stephanie�s recent moody attitude.

But Jay shook his head even as he was getting to his feet. �No, and she�s really hurt. I would have picked her, but geez, you know how that would look with all of the rumors and stuff. Plus Emerson�s MS One on this crew � I didn�t have a choice there. They�ve had TA�s together and he says he can�t stand working with her.� He drained his beer. �I need to spend a little time with her. Talk with you guys later.� He leaned over and clapped Elliott on the back � �congrats, man� � and leered jokingly at Clare. �You, I want details tomorrow. Have a good time, though,� he told her, suddenly serious and kind, �and be yourself. He�ll fall head over heels for you. If he doesn�t he�s not worth it.�

�Well thanks, Jay.� Clare was genuinely touched. �I promise, I�ll tell all of you what didn�t happen, Monday at the latest.�

She stood up herself. �And now, I�m gonna go hit the ladies�, and do the rounds on the new crews. . .� She did have to pee, and it was a good excuse to avoid any more date talk.

It was a fun evening, and Clare was glad she�d attended. The rookies on their first assignments were beaming the entire time � they�d be smiling from now until liftoff. She remembered that feeling; it was one of the best in the world.

At eight o�clock, she returned to her table and began zipping back into her gear. This would give her plenty of time to get home, hopefully take Neil�s call at nine-ish, shower and change, and do a quick pickup of the house. Not that it was terribly messy, but if he were coming to meet her there, she wanted to be sure any and all stray clothing was picked up and that her reeking running shoes were somewhere well out of olfactory range. Before leaving, she scanned the bar for Elliott � she hadn�t been kidding about getting his fashion advice.

Thankfully he was still there. She got his attention and motioned to him. �Hey, I really do need an idea on what to wear. . .�

�Yes, you do.� Elliott, while not in the least bit flamboyant, did possess a few stereotypical gay traits, one of which was clothing sense. He maintained that Clare never made the most of her looks. �You bum around in those t-shirts and denim shorts and sneakers all the time, hair in that damn braid. At least we have you wearing makeup finally� was one of the litanies she�d heard him spout frequently over the years. Her usual response was that it was comfortable, required no thought to assemble, and �Houston is hot, in case you hadn�t noticed. Six pounds of hair hanging down my back isn�t real practical. I dress for the climate, not to impress.�

To which Elliott usually replied, �Well, yes, that�s obvious.�

Now he stood back and scrutinized her, as if he were studying a malfunctioning Main Engine. �Well, it depends on a lot, missy. Where were the two of you thinking of going?�

�I thought Dailey�s. We aren�t headed out until late, around eleven-ish. And he probably won�t have eaten dinner.� Dailey�s was a 24-hour dim-sum bar in Clare�s coastal neighborhood. It had excellent food, good prices, and was far enough off the beaten path that the two of them would be able to hopefully relax and talk easily.

�Oohhh �kaayyyy,� Elliott mused. �Well, I know better than to think you might have a miniskirt. So. Dailey�s is definitely casual. . .why so late?�

Clare was caught off guard by the question. �Because he has work-related stuff until then, is why. And because I�m here.� Nicely recovered, she thought to herself.

Elliott accepted the answer with a look that clearly said he knew she was withholding information from him, but apparently decided to let it pass. �Well, for starters, no black. It�s too somber on you, and this is supposed to be a casual date. And not white, either, because I know you�ll spill. So wear something colorful. I assume you have some shorts that don�t look like you washed the car with them? Or better, some capris?�

�I have some white capris.�

�Perfect,� Elliott affirmed. �Now, shoes. How tall is this guy?�

�Pretty tall, � Clare replied. �Over six feet, I�m guessing around six-three, six-four.� She herself only made 5�1�, stretching.

�Well, then, you need to wear some heels. Not slut-high. . .�

Clare vetoed him. �No heels. I don�t have any casual ones, for starters. And I wouldn�t be used to walking in them, either. I�m not going to make an ass out of myself staggering around.�

Elliott sighed. �Honestly, Clare, we really need to take you shopping. Okay, some sandals will do. How do your feet look? Pedicure lately?�

�Oh, yeah,� Clare gave a sarcastic laugh. �You know me. Mani-pedi, every weekend without fail. No, Ells, my feet look like. . . feet. Sorry. I have my white Keds, and they�re clean.�

A shake of the head from Elliott. �Keds it is, then. I don�t want to insult you, but I do assume you know that no socks is the rule there?�

She hadn�t, but faked it, grateful for the information, then glanced at her watch. �Shit, I have to go! He�s supposed to call me around nine!� The impromptu consultation had held her up another fifteen minutes. �Last question � hair up or down?�

�Up!� Elliott�s answer

This is CATNIP! A precious window into the heart of a female Rush fan.

[Babycat]

<!--QuoteBegin-Mara+Jun 10 2009, 06:16 PM--></div><table border='0' align='center' width='95%' cellpadding='3' cellspacing='1'><tr><td><b>QUOTE</b> (Mara @ Jun 10 2009, 06:16 PM)</td></tr><tr><td id='QUOTE'><!--QuoteEBegin--> Okay. Here it is, in all of its mostly raw, semi-edited glory. . .the first 2 "chapters" of Mara's fanfic. . .

I have done no real research here. I know a little about NASA, a little more about Neil (and I have pretty much re-written his bio to suit my needs), and not a damn thing about Houston, which is where this first part takes place.

Have at it. Warning: if you're expecting steam, this is vanilla. Mostly character intro/sketches. I will work on steamy later.

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Clare stretched out an arm and banged the alarm, hard. Yawning, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat up. Thursday. Good. Clare liked Thursdays. Nothing mindblowing ever happened on Thursdays, and they were followed by Fridays.

She pulled on her running gear, followed by her lightest cycling clothing � she was meeting Steph, Rina, and Fiona at the training facility for a good solid run. She had her work clothes (jeans, sneakers, and polo) and shower supplies stashed in her locker already, so after gulping down a quick cup of coffee while standing at the kitchen sink, she banged out the door, fired up the bike, and zipped out of the neighborhood.

Clare had gotten the bike the previous spring. It was as much of a whim for her as anything ever was, meaning not much. But it had become her favorite means of commuting to and from work, and she rode it rather than drive whenever she had the opportunity.

Now she steered it into the parking lot of the Johnson Space Center Athletic Complex and came to a halt next to Fiona, who was sitting on the hood of her truck. Clare killed the engine and dropped the kickstand, greeting her colleague as she climbed off.

�You do realize,� Fiona remarked, sliding to the ground, �that every guy here just drools when you come roaring up on that thing?�

Clare pulled off her helmet and set it carefully on the seat. �It�s the bike,� she replied. �They�re all married, and their wives won�t let them have one, so they romanticize mine. She�s the ultimate can�t-have bitch.�

Fiona laughed. �Right. You keep telling yourself that, if it makes you feel better.�

She continued stripping off the light armored motorcycle pants and vest. �How far does anyone feel like going today?� she asked.

�Well, I�ll match you as far as you want to go,� was Fiona�s response. �I can�t speak for Rina, but I can almost guarantee you that Steph won�t be good for shit. I saw her leave last night with Jay, dressed to the nines. Dollars to doughnuts she hasn�t had any sleep.�

Clare rolled her eyes. �Jesus. Doesn�t she know better? I mean, she at least shouldn�t be parading around like that with him here. She�s the one who gets in trouble � technically, she�s his superior in the Navy.�

�It was late; I was only here because I�d been swimming and had to go back to my office to get something,� Fiona clarified. �I�m pretty sure I�m the only one who saw, and I sure as hell am not telling. That�s their problem, as far as I�m concerned.�

The object of their discussion pulled into the parking lot at that moment. Indeed, Stephanie did have some dark circles under her eyes, but she also had an ear-to-ear grin. �Morning, everybody. Did we all sleep well?�

�Obviously you didn�t,� Fiona took the opportunity to aim a friendly barb in Stephanie�s direction.

�On the contrary,� Stephanie retorted. �There�s nothing like sleep after a good night of hot sex, sorry, Clare.� Clare�s response was to give her office mate the finger. �I didn�t sleep MUCH, true, but I feel wonderful. You should try it sometime.� She began stretching her calves. �God, but he�s amazing. Goes all night, no Viagra needed.�

�Is this what I have to look forward to when I get old?� Clare couldn�t resist returning the jab. �Endless horniness and one-night stands?�

Steph winked at her. �Who says it�s one night? You�re wasting your youth, my dear. You could have anyone you wanted here. Except, of course, Jay. For now anyway, he�s mine.�

�You�ve nothing to worry about, Steph, � Clare replied as she spotted Rina�s Volkswagen driving in to the lot. �Not my sort, I�m not his, and besides, he�s a colleague. A great friend, yes, but you know my policy.� None of the assembled women was aware of Clare�s brief affair with the subject of their conversation. It had been very short - a couple of months at most � and Clare though of it as a �recovery affair� after her last relationship, which had ended violently and had left Clare somewhat shaken. She and Jay burned out quickly with no hard feelings on either side; on the contrary, it had been something of a bonding experience as far as Clare was concerned. They were close friends now. The affair wasn�t something she felt compelled to share with anyone, though she suspected Jay had let it slip amongst the men.

The chatter and gossip ceased and the four of them set off on their run. Amazingly, no one dropped off. Stephanie, contrary to Fiona�s prediction, stayed with them for what they later determined to be a solid nine miles.

Stephanie brought the conversation back round to Clare�s dating life as the runners strolled around the track to cool off. �Seriously, Clare, I can understand you not wanting to date people you see every day. But I just don�t get it. If I had your looks and your age going for me. . .�

�That�s because you�re a complete horndog, Steph,� Clare teased. �Just kidding. You know it isn�t as if I NEVER date. It�s just not a high priority right now.�

�Yeah, and I don�t get it. I don�t mean that it should be your TOP priority, but really. You have a lot going for you.�

�Well, Stephanie,� Rina interjected, �perhaps Clare feels life is just fine regardless of whether or not she is involved in a relationship. That is not meant as a slam, please understand. Only that Clare is not you, perhaps she is not so horny all of the time.� Slang pronounced in Rina�s careful, Indian-accented English always amused everyone, and the group snickered. Rina merely rolled her eyes � she knew she�d made her point.

Clare shot Rina a grateful look. �Thank you. That�s exactly how I feel. Sure, it would be nice to not have to dig up a date every time there�s some function or other. But I�m not unhappy. Not at all,� The trio turned left towards the athletic building now and Clare jumped in to change the subject.

�Hey, I heard a rumor that they�re looking at delaying launch again for Mike C�s crew. Something to do with the cooling systems? � When in doubt, talk about work. Mission delays were always a safe topic, since they affected everyone to some degree.

After showering and dressing Clare hopped back on the bike � the only time she would dare ride sans helmet or gear � and rode across the Johnson campus to the building that housed her office and those of the NASA team who were working on the next phase of manned spaceflight, called Constellation. It was why she had been chosen, despite her age. The idea was that she would work actively on the design while accruing mission time, and use her experience in space in the design process. Clare took the goal one step further � she intended to fly in what she was helping to put together.

At 30, she was among the youngest in the astronaut corps, certainly the youngest to have actual mission experience. That alone was enough that she�d been a bit of a curiosity for a while. Add that to her single status and staunch refusals to date anyone whose paychecks also bore a NASA signature and the result was that she had some sort of inexplicable (to her, anyway) air of mystery to many of her colleagues. But she also had a reputation as a hard worker, quick thinking and a top-notch team player. With few exceptions, she got along well with everyone.

Her degrees were in Fluid Dynamics and Aerospace Engineering, and her earlier work experience with Boeing. Among her other technical duties, she was assigned right now to the team that was working on the orbital maneuvering systems for the crew capsule, which wouldn�t see any kind of testing for at least another three years; an actual mission for the Constellation program was at least five years out. But she enjoyed that part of her responsibility almost as much as her work as a mission specialist.

She especially liked the team she worked with currently. They were all men and initially hadn�t known what to make of her assignation. There was one other astronaut on the design team, a veteran named Steve Reddick, who had openly challenged her for a few weeks. But she�d earned his respect, not only by the quality of her work, but also by her ability to take a joke, laugh at it. . .and then give as good as she got. Everyone got along, for the most part; there was the occasional turf squabble but it was a well-matched group of individuals.

She greeted them in the kitchen � it was the standard morning routine to have a cup of coffee together and just banter. Then she grabbed a few spec sheets from her workstation and turned to go back to her office for a while; much of what she needed to address could be accomplished from there just as easily.

As she was leaving, Joe Talanero, one of her engineering colleagues who was hoping for an astronaut slot � he had applied for the next selection � waved her over to his cubicle. He was a friendly if shy sort, and Clare hoped he�d make the cut.

The hopeful exp<b></b>ression in his eyes reminded her. �Yes, Joe, I did get it finished.� Clare set her briefcase on his desk and rummaged through it, then handed him a sheet of paper . �Not bad. Just tone down the sensitive-guy thing. It sounds like you�re trying too hard to get laid, for one thing. It also says �Wuss�. Women want a guy with some sensitivity, but they do not necessarily want him talking about it. Good luck.�

Joe was already grinning as he read through the personal ad Clare had edited for him. �Lefty, you rock, this is awesome. Thanks so much.�

Clare waved off the thanks. �Good luck, and just invite me to the wedding, okay?� she told him drily and snapped her briefcase closed. �Glad you like it.�

�Hey, is that your ad?� Jeff, one of the graphics techs, had been listening and now he grabbed the sheet of paper from Joe. �Write me one?� he asked Clare.

�No.� Clare was firm. �You know the rules. Write your own, and I�ll edit and correct. And don�t f***ing e-mail it to me like Drew did, either. Duh.� She was referring to an embarrassing incident in which her colleague had sent a half-finished and, truth be told, positively pornographic personal ad to her NASA e-mail account. The ever-vigilant NASA information tech had called both of them on that, understandably curious. They had been satisfied with the explanation, but had suggested it was best that this sort of thing be confined to paper and pen transmittals. Clare agreed wholeheartedly � it hadn�t crossed her mind that anyone might have considered company e-mail a good medium for this sort of thing. Still, Drew had in fact gotten a flurry of responses to the ad Clare had rewritten for him. He�d been dating one of the respondents for six months now, and Drew had confided that he was thinking of proposing. And Clare was now known as the go-to person if you needed someone to write a good personal ad.

Stephanie was already seated at her desk in the small office the two of them shared, talking on the phone. She waved to Clare, and kept talking as Clare dumped briefcase and bike gear in a heap behind her desk.

Clare had an odd relationship with her office mate. As coworkers, they got on quite well professionally. Stephanie was a good twelve years older, married, with two kids. She had one mission under her belt, as did Clare, which was fairly standard for astonauts with their respective experience. Clare had already been named to another crew, however, for a mission scheduled five months upcoming, and Stephanie was jealous. She tried to hide it, but her attitude had cooled noticeably.

Clare was also just a little uncomfortable with being privy to all details of Steph�s vigorous extra-curricular love life. It didn�t have so much to do with any particular moral standpoint � that issue belonged to those involved, was her opinion � but Stephanie�s husband worked at Launch Control. She didn�t like the idea of possibly getting stuck in the midst of something ugly, by virtue of proximity. And too, Jay Olmsted, the naval commander she was currently fooling with, was a very good friend of Clare�s. She worried that there could be professional repercussions for him, should things take a bad turn. It wasn�t out of the question, as both Steph and Jay were still considered active Navy, and Steph was breaking fraternization rules by sleeping with someone of lower rank. Add to that the fact that adultery was considered a big no by the military. . .Clare at least had the comfort of being a civilian and thus not obligated to report anything.

She logged on to her computer and spent the next two hours sending and answering e-mails. She ate lunch early at her desk, and then spent most of the rest of the afternoon in SCUBA training, required for all spacewalkers. Clare was scheduled, at the moment, to be part of two spacewalk teams to install new solar panels on the international space station.

Like all astronauts, Clare had played it cool when she�d been selected for the mission and then again for spacewalks � these were considered �prime� assignations. Inwardly, however, she�d been thrilled beyond belief and had celebrated that night by getting good and drunk, a rarity for her, with her best friend Elliott. Mission training was gearing up to go full blast. She had already taken steps to hand off parts of her Constellation project to the other engineers to continue development. Within a few weeks, every waking moment would be devoted to preparation.

She showered again after SCUBA, and returned to her office. Stephanie was packing up and preparing to leave, and Clare decided she�d just make a quick run through her e-mails and do the same. She had learned, early on, to take advantage of slower, quieter times around the office.

None of the e-mails was urgent, but she had one from Steve in the hydraulics lab asking for some old information she knew she�d stowed away months earlier two floors down in one of the reference rooms. She checked her files to see if she�d uploaded it before stashing it-she hadn�t. No problem � she decided to go ahead and retrieve it from reference file storage in order to save everyone time the following day. She�d lock it in the office, then leave.

Removing information from the reference room � really just one of a series of big storage closets fitted with modular shelving � was done more or less on the honor system. No one guarded the room. Clare signed in and perused the index cards on the shelving ends, looking for what she needed. Since materials were stored here on such a loose system, finding what you were looking for could be a crapshoot. One person�s Fluid Dynamics was another�s Hydraulics, and so on. Fortunately she remembered dropping off this particular binder and found it with little trouble. She noted on the log that she was removing it on that date, flipped off the light and retraced her steps back to the elevator. Halfway down the hall she changed her mind and reversed direction, deciding to take the stairs rather than wait on the building�s one notoriously slow elevator.

About ten paces from the stairwell door Clare paused- there was a distinctive pounding coming from the stairwell area. Not that it frightened her; it was just odd to have any kind of activity on this particular floor at the end of a day. She listened. There it was again. A banging noise, followed by indecipherable shouting. Clare tucked the binder under her armpit and followed the sounds, which grew louder and more impatient as she approached their source. Possibly, she thought, someone was trapped on the other side. It happened.

The noisemaker was in the men�s room nearly opposite the stairs, though. And he was clearly not happy to be there.

WHAM! �Goddammit, is anyone out there? Hello? I�m stuck, the door�s locked, hello?� WHAM! The occupant wasn�t pounding, he was kicking, and the second kick shook the whole frame.

�Jebus, chill out, would you? I�ll see what I can do, if we can�t get the door unlocked then I�ll call someone. Who�s there?� She grasped the door handle and gave it a sharp twist. It wouldn�t budge. She rattled it a few times, knowing it wouldn�t do any good.

�No good. The door�s locked tight.� The man on the other side lowered his voice now that he knew he�d gotten a response. �I don�t know why it did this from the inside, but I have GOT to get out of here. I have somewhere to be.�

He gave the door another solid kick, this time dislodging some dust from the top of the frame.

Annoyed, Clare rapped sharply on the wood. �Knock it off, goddammit! We�ll get you out of here. How�d you get stuck in here anyway? No one�s ever on this floor � it�s mostly storage. Are you even supposed to be over here? Jesus f*ckin� Christ.�

Exasperated sigh from the trapped man. �Look, I got lost, okay? And I needed a bathroom. I didn�t know the goddam door would lock me in. Are you going to help me get out of here or just interrogate me?�

The guy�s attitude was too much. Clare was now officially pissed, and she suspected he wasn�t even supposed to be where he was. �If you don�t� � she lowered her voice � �calm down, act civilly, and stop behaving as if I personally locked you in there, then yes, I will just f**k off home and pretend I never saw you. I might, around nine or ten tonight, remember that there was someone stuck in a bathroom and call security�-

�No!� Now the man�s voice became a plea. �Look, I�m sorry, just very, very, anxious. My name is Neil, I was on a group tour, I got lost, and I really, really do have to be somewhere soon. Please, help me get out of here. I�m sorry I snapped at you. This is just stressing me some. I�m sorry. Don�t leave me in here, please.�

Clare calmed a bit. She could see his point; getting locked in a bathroom would frustrate just about anyone. �Okay, Neil. Apology accepted. Now. I am going to go upstairs to my office and get some tools. Sit tight. We�re either going to remove the lock, or take the door off the hinges. I�ll be up and back as fast as I can, it�s two floors. I�ll over look the fact that you are, apparently , one of those nosy tourists. Can you manage a few without taking the building apart?�

�I think I can do that.� There was still a trace of irritation in Neil�s tone, but he did sound contrite. �Thanks for helping.�

She bolted up the steps to her office and rummaged around on the floor for her tool bag. Shit. It had to be here � or had she left it in her locker in the training facility? Just as she was considering tempting fate by borrowing Stephanie�s tools, Clare unearthed hers beneath a discarded dry-erase board. She sorted through them, grabbed what she knew she�d need and what she thought she might possibly need, and ran back downstairs.

�Hey,� she called out, letting him know she�d returned. �All right. I have tools. One way or another, we�ll free you.�

�You�re back.� Neil actually sounded surprised.

�You thought I really was going to leave you here?� Clare fitted a short Phillips head tip on the end of her cordless screwdriver and gave it a spin.

�I didn�t know. You sounded mad.� He was still stressed, she could tell, but he also sounded contrite. �I�m sorry, again.�

�Well, okay. I�m dying to know how you got separated from a tourist group two floors and about a half-block away, though. � She kept her voice light, kidding him a little. �Now, I�m going to start peeling the screws out of the hinges, starting at the bottom. When I get near the top I�ll need you to hold the door so it stays level. I don�t want it falling on either of us or tearing the jamb apart.�

�Am I going to be in trouble for messing with government property.?� Poor guy. He actually sounded worried.

�You could be, I guess. If I chose to hand you over. Right now the worst you can expect is maybe a parking ticket because you are here past regular hours without a parking sticker. Keep being nice, and it stays that way. Now hush, and let me start here.�

Neil said nothing as Clare began backing the screws out of the hinges. It was easier said than done, however, as the door probably hadn�t been touched since the building was erected in the 1960�s. Still, her screwdriver had been developed for use in space and with a little pressure Clare managed to work them free.

�Okay,� she told Neil ,who had remained silent through the entire operation. �One hinge left. The top one. I need you to lean hard against the door, and push up so that it stays level. Tell me when you�re ready.�

�Okay,� he said presently. �Ready when you are.� Clare removed the last four screws, and came face to face with the man she�d just freed from a men�s room.

Or rather, she came face-to-chest. He was tall, over six feet, and looked to be somewhere in his late thirties, with short dark hair and startlingly green eyes. As Clare raised her head and took a step back so she could see him, he blushed furiously.

�Thanks,� he stammered, looking nervous. �I�m really, really sorry. Thank you.�

Clare folded her arms and leaned against the wall. �You�re welcome. Relax. I�m not going to turn you in. I will, however, walk you out. How on earth did you get in here?�

Neil turned an even darker shade of red. �I really was with a tour group. I uh, wandered off. Being nosy. I admit it.� He swallowed hard, then peered at Clare�s shirt, which had the NASA gold astronaut wings embroidered on it. �Hey. You�re one of the astronauts.� Now he looked impressed.

�I am.� She realized she hadn�t introduced herself, and put her hand out. �Well, Mr. Neil Canada, I�m Clare. Shall we go?�

He took her hand lightly, seeming a bit less flustered now. �I um, guess so. Wow. You�re really an astronaut? And how did you know I�m Canadian?�

�Oh please.� Clare retrieved her hand, but not before noticing that his long fingers bore a few callouses. �That accent�s a dead giveaway. I worked with some CSA crew for a bit, and we have them rotating in here all the time. Let�s go; I thought you said you had somewhere to be?�

�I do, yes.� But the man hesitated before following her. �Is there perhaps a phone I can use? I have a cell,� he added, apologetically, � but it doesn�t appear to work very well here. I need to let my band- my colleagues know I�m running late.�

Clare laughed. �Yeh, welcome to Johnson Space Center. Home of the most advanced technology around, but just TRY to get a clean cell transmission. I don�t even carry mine on me. If I�m not in my office, I�m not reachable. You can use my office phone. I need to put these tools away anyhow and I might as well just leave with you.� She looked up at him again. �What brings you to Houston in August anyway, Mr. Canadian Neil-guy?� Jesus, Clare, what on earth has you so gabby? She wondered to herself. It was true. The man from the bathroom seemed to have prompted an urge to chatter endlessly. Well, he seemed so uncomfortable and awkward, she told herself. It just seemed to be the nice thing to try to put him at ease.

Neil cleared his throat. �Work, actually. I�m here until Saturday night. I�ve been to Houston before, but never to Johnson. How long have you been an astronaut?� In an effort to avoid anything with a door that might lock, Clare had taken the lead back to the elevator, and now they waited, and waited.

�Five years,� Clare answered. �One mission, but� �

Neil interrupted. �You�re scheduled for the upcoming December mission, as the lead Mission Specialist. With two spacewalks scheduled to make some repairs to the ISS solar arrays,� he finished, and grinned at her.

�Oh God,� Clare exclaimed, rolling her eyes. �Shit! I should have known.� �You�re a contractor. Or a salesman, sneaking around. Christ, you guys stop at nothing, do you? You know you�re supposed to have an appointment and check in over at procurement, and have an escort.� She stared fiercely at Neil, who looked, if anything, completely bewildered at her accusations. �In fact, you look sort of familiar, I�ve seen you around here somewhere before. . � The elevator finally reached them and she shoved her way past him.

�No, Clare, no, I�m sorry, it�s nothing like that.� Neil protested. He looked for all the world as though he wished he could redo the entire afternoon. �No. Please listen. I know this whole thing is rather odd. . .�

� �Rather� odd? I�d say completely f***ing odd, pal, sneaking into the Admin building.� Clare punched the button for her floor with several more foot-pounds of force than necessary. �Didn�t you know astronauts don�t make any decisions anyway?�

�No, yes, what I�m trying to tell, you, Clare� � now Neil sounded mildly exasperated � �is that I am not a salesman. Or affiliated in any way with astronauts, or space shuttles, or space in general, other than that I occupy some of it. I just find the program fascinating, and I looked up the website last night since I knew I would be coming here, is all.� He stopped. Sighed.

�If you must know I�m a musician. I�m here for concerts at MinuteMaid park tomorrow and Saturday nights. Where I am supposed to be half an hour ago is at the park, for a soundcheck and short rehearsal. That�s why I need to use your phone, because at this moment I am undoubtedly being cursed up, down, and sideways by my bandmates and the rest of the crew for being late.�

The elevator stopped, doors opened, and Clare, chastened, put her hand on the door to keep it from closing again and tried to apologize. �Shit, I�m sorry. Really, I am. Forgive me. We�ve always and forever got salespeople trying to sneak around and bug everyone. Or find out what their competition is up to. Seriously. I wasn�t expecting you to know who I am. It�s just been a weird experience, is all.� She looked him in the eyes, noticing again how intensely green they were. There was something oddly familiar about him, she was certain of that.

Neil touched her shoulder very, very lightly as he followed her off the elevator and down the hallway. �No. I screwed up royally. Don�t apologize. You�ve been great. � He lifted his hand as they came to a stop at the office doorway, and she could still feel his touch.

�Phone�s there.� Clare pointed to her desk. �Sorry about the mess.� She didn�t know why she felt compelled to apologize for her sloppiness.

�Nice.� Neil made no move for the phone, just looked around.

�Yeah.� Clare couldn�t help smiling. �We like to call this style of d�cor, �Modern Bureaucrat.� And he laughed then, a low, warm, sound that prompted a laugh from herself. To cover her sudden awkwardness, Clare moved around behind him and gathered her cycling gear off of the floor. �Don�t mind me. I�m just going to dress for the ride home while you make your call.�

Neil stll held the receiver in one hand. �Ride? As in motorcycle?� He looked fascinated.

Clare grinned at him. �Yep. I do. Not long, but I promised myself when I got the bike six months ago that I�d never go without all the gear. Houston drivers are assholes. Do you ride?�

�No.� Neil shook his head. �I�d kind of like to, but I�m not sure if I could learn.�

�You can.� Clare zipped her leathers up her left leg. �Your body learns. Seriously, take a course.�

�I might do that,� Neil replied. There was a moment of uncomfortable, charged silence between them, and then Neil seemed to remember why he was up here. He dialled the phone. �Michael, yeah, it�s me. No, I�m fine, don�t sound the alarm. Traffic issue� � he colored slightly at the lie, and Clare raised one eyebrow and gave him a look of mock admonishment. To her surprise, he smiled, and in fact almost laughed � �no, it�s going to be a little while. Yes, look, can you get me Larry? I really do apologize� He waited, then apparently the Larry person he wanted came on the line. Another long apology, with a fake explanation. �No, no. I don�t expect anyone to hang around late on my account. Yeah, I screwed up. Sorry. Yes, I�ll see everyone later. Yes, I know how to get back and where to go.� He hung up then. �Well, shit. I�ve blown it. They finished already. . .�

�Rush!� Clare blurted out, then clenched her jaw in embarrassment as she watched the color drain from Neil�s face, to be replaced with a look of resignation. She remembered why he looked familiar. �Er, you�re in them. In it. A band member. Something like that. There�s, there�s posters in some of the offices. Lots of guys are fans. Popular around these parts. That�s where I recognize you.�

Now Neil definitely looked uncomfortable. �Only fair, I suppose, since I �made� you. Yes. You are correct. I am in Rush. Drums, to be precise.� Then he gave her a mildly sardonic smile, which reached his eyes. �I gather,� he said a little drily, �you aren�t a fan?�

�Oh no, it isn�t that.� Clare didn�t want to hurt his feelings. �I like the music, they play it quite a bit. I don�t follow the band or anything, but I don�t follow anything much. That�s why I didn�t recognize you.� She stopped then as a realization dawned suddenly on her. �You like that I didn�t recognize you, don�t you?�

Neil shrugged a little, but the corners of his mouth were upturned just a bit. �Well, on the one hand, the plus would have been that you probably wouldn�t have cussed me out for being where I wasn�t supposed to be. The downside is that maybe everyone would have found out that I was locked in a men�s bathroom. There�s more than a degree of ignominy in that, don�t you think? But to give a succinct answer to your question, yes, it�s nice to not be recognized and be treated. . .differently. Even though you swore at me and threatened to leave me there.� He tipped his head slightly, still smiling. There was a spark in his eye that made her legs feel a little funny.

�I understand what you�re saying. But better that than a women�s bathroom.� Clare was fully geared up now for the ride home; she picked up her helmet. �So. Uhm, do you know how to get back? Do you need me to lead you where you�re going?� Funny, she thought, but she realized she really was not ready to say goodbye and send him on his way. As strange and awkward as the afternoon had been, she felt a keen urge to just stand here and keep talking.

�Well, actually, if I could follow, that�d be ideal. But,� Neil hesitated for a moment, then blushed faintly and said, �would it be asking too much for you to let me call you later? Maybe get together? I have free time over the next couple of days. That sounds so lame,� he added, �but would that be okay?�

Now it was Clare who felt awkward. �Sure,� she said, not a little startled. She rummaged around for some scrap paper, on which she scribbled her two contact numbers. �Office and home,� she indicated. �No cell � I just don�t use it much. For reasons stated earlier.�

Neil took the piece of paper and folded it carefully into his wallet, not bothering to conceal his pleasure at Clare�s response. �Wow,� he said, nearly beaming, �thanks. Yeah, I dunno, there�s something. . . Thanks. Now I don�t want to hold you up. . .�

They walked out of the building together, but Neil was unable to remember where in relation to the Administration building he�d left his rental car. �Shit,� he said aloud, �I have, apparently, no sense of direction. Pardon my French,� he apologized, glancing at her.

She grinned. �Sounded like good old-fashioned Anglo-Saxon to me,� she replied, wiping sweat off of her brow. �Look, we could be searching all night. And it�s hot. Let�s you hop on the bike behind me and we�ll drive around. � Neil agreed without hesitation and climbed on the Ninja behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist. Despite the heat, Clare shivered a little, feeling that same frisson she�d had earlier when he�d touched her shoulder. She masked it with a shouted warning to �hang on� , throttled the bike, and took off across the Johnson parking maze. Neil gave a stifled shout of surprise and delight, then she heard � and felt, since his chest was pressed against her back - him laugh. He had a nice laugh, she thought. Deep and resonant and spontaneous.

She kept the speed down, aware that her passenger didn�t have a helmet. After a couple of false identifications, they found the rental car parked in front of the main building, in one of the reserved visitor spaces. It had a ticket on the windshield. Clare pulled up next to it, feeling again that weird mixture of relief � on Neil�s behalf � and disappointment � hers.

Neil dismounted. �Wow, too bad we found the car so quickly,� he said. �That was fun.�

Clare, too, got off the bike, leaving it idling. She flipped her visor up and reached around Neil to retrieve the ticket. �I�ll get rid of this,� she told him. �No big deal, just overstaying parking. You still want to follow me? �Cause I need to know where we�re going.�

Neil gave a slight sigh coupled with a look of . . .resignation? Reluctance to leave? �It�s the Westin. The one right next to the stadium. You�re sure you don�t mind this?�

�No, I really don�t. It�s fine, � Clare reassured him. �I�ll get you to the exit, at least; it�s easy-peasy from there.� She paused, then added, �Look. It�s been a really,um, interesting afternoon, to say the least. But I can�t say it was awful. Most of it. So. . .drive safe. . .�

Neil finished the sentence by putting his arms around her in a gentle hug, which was slightly clumsy thanks to the helmet. Clare froze, startled, for a moment, then returned the gesture. He felt good, she thought, wondering why this surprised her.

�I don�t regret it at all,� Neil was saying. �Except for the embarrassment aspect. I�m sorry I was such a jerk. Thank you. And I will call.� He let his arms drop. Their eyes met, and Clare dropped her visor quickly, hoping he hadn�t seen her blush.

She waited for him to get the car started before giving the bike some throttle. He stayed behind her, but not following too closely, and she kept an eye on him in her mirror. At the exit to the Astrodome, she lifted a hand from the grips and waved and saw Neil do the same with an arm out the window. Well, that�s that, she thought, then gunned the bike and took a longer route than usual back home. He wouldn�t call, she knew. Not that he wasn�t genuinely grateful to her, or that he hadn�t been maybe flirting a little. It was just that the timing and circumstances were far too strange. The hug had been nice, though.

It was entirely unlike any Thursday she could remember.

_______________________________________________________________

 

The voice of Leroy Cain, the Flight Operations Director, buzzed in her ear like a fly outside a window � distant and droning. Clare and the rest of the STS-124 astronauts and support crew had been stuck in the auditorium for most of the morning, getting various briefings on changes and status of variables affecting their flight. These meetings weren�t unusual, and they were necessary. Mark Kozersky, the Commander, was still developing the flight plan, and everything had to be taken into account. But it was almost lunch time, and everyone was getting restless.

Except Clare. She�d been in a half-fog since waving goodbye to Neil the Canadian drummer for Rush (she had realized she�d never gotten his last name and made a mental note to look it up. No way was she asking anyone she worked with. They�d have the answer, but they would want to know why she was asking. Clare was good at keeping secrets but terrible at telling lies).

Manny Ceriso, another MS from her class assigned to her crew, poked her in the ribs with his pen, and Clare jumped. �Crew announcements today. Outpost after work?� he whispered. Clare nodded absently. The now-storied Outpost was the traditional gathering spot for celebrations whenever new crew assignments were made.

Manny gave her a strange look. He�d expected more of a reaction from her, obviously, but Clare was definitely preoccupied. No, Neil hadn�t called her, but she hadn�t expected him to. And she wasn�t exactly obsessing over him, but the encounter had definitely sparked something in her. She felt oddly detached from things, but still somehow alert and hyper-aware.

Which was a good thing, because Mark had just turned in his seat to ask her a question. Clare removed her pen from her mouth and gave a detailed but concise explanation of her opinion regarding the procedure under discussion. So she wasn�t utterly useless. Just. . .pre-occupied.

Finally, the meeting broke up after another hour and the participants charged out of the auditorium in search of food. Clare had brought her own � some protein powder and a few bars to choose from � but she wasn�t hungry. No surprise there, given her current frame of mind. Still, she was scheduled to finish the day on SCUBA so eating really wasn�t optional � the exercise took a lot out of a person. With that in mind she headed for the small kitchen near her office.

�Whoa, shit!� Arms flailed and Clare teetered off balance, having narrowly missed a collision with Fiona. �Sorry �bout that,� she apologized.

Fiona let go of the door jamb, which she�d grabbed in order to remain on her feet. �No problem, it�s okay. Just slow down.� She peered at Clare a little more closely. �Lefty, are you okay? You�ve seemed, I don�t know, out of it all morning.�

�I�m fine,� Clare reassured her friend. �Just a few things on my mind, is all.�

�Lemme guess,� Fiona said. �Guy trouble.� She was kidding, but Clare�s exp<b></b>ression must have given something away, because her mouth opened wide in amazement. �Oh my God, it IS man-related! Shit, I was just kidding.�

�No, really, it�s not anything like that,� Clare protested. �Well, okay, yes, I did meet someone interesting, but that�s all there is to it. Promise. And that�s all there WILL be to it. It was just. . .interesting.� She shrugged.

Fiona leaned against the wall, all ears. �Sorry, Lefty, can�t help it. The look on your face says more. No worries, I�m not going to be like Stephanie and pester you about it, but I can�t help but be curious. So there�s no date or anything? Obviously he made some kind of impression on you. Feel free to tell me to shut my trap or mind my own business.�

�There�s no business to mind,� Clare said plainly. �Yeah, he got my number, no, I don�t expect he�ll call. He doesn�t live here. It wouldn�t make sense.�

�What happened, exactly? Doesn�t live here?�

�Really, nothing,� Clare said, a little reluctantly. �I just happened to help him out with something, and he was nice, is all. Nothing earth-shattering.�

Fiona got the hint. �Right. I won�t bother you about it. But you might want to try to snap out of this fuzz around your office-mate. I love her, you know that, but Steph will hammer it to death. She�s like a bloodhound when it comes to relationship and dating stuff. But I don�t have to tell you that.�

Clare gave a laugh. �No, you don�t. Although I think she�s so busy getting screwed silly right now that she might not notice anyone else.�

�Don�t count on it. Hey, you hittin� Outpost later?�

�I�ll be there,� Clare promised. �Do you know anything about the crew announcements?�

�Not a thing,� Fiona replied. �Guess we�ll find out later. See you there. You in SCUBA for the rest of the day?�

�Aye, Captain,� Clare confirmed. �I�m nearly done with all of this prelim stuff; I�ve been trying to time it so I�m fresh, but not too inexperienced, for the main phase.� Most of Clare�s training for the mission, along with Manny and Scott, would take place in the Neutral Buoyancy Lab, where they would be simulating the work to be done on their EVAs. Scott was a veteran spacewalker, with over 100 hours of EVA time. This was Manny�s first mission.

She gulped down her protein shake and munched a handful of crackers for the extra energy boost, and glanced at her watch. Good, she had a half hour or so to drop by her office.

The light was off and Stephanie was nowhere to be seen. As Clare was logging on to her computer, she noticed the �message� light on her phone flashing. Curious, she lifted the receiver, punched in her code, and waited while the electronic voice informed her that she had nine messages. Seven of them turned out to be hang-ups. Exasperated, she considered dropping the receiver back on its cradle prior to the eighth. Instead, she pressed the pound key and was greeted by another few seconds of silence. Just as she was about to dump the non- message and hang up, a male voice filled her ear.

�Hi, um, Clare, it�s Neil.� He sounded very nervous, and Clare realized he�d probably been the one who had hung up the previous seven times. Her heart skipped a beat as he continued. �Anyway, I was wondering, I mean, if you�re free tonight, kinda late, maybe, after the show. I�d like you to actually see the show, but I don�t know if you want to, and maybe tomorrow night would be better.�

Clare felt a smile creep, unbidden, across her face as Neil cleared his throat and continued leaving his message. �So anyway, if you want to call me back, you can, I don�t know what your schedule is so I�m not sure you�ll get this message in time. We have sound check at four-thirty, then the show is at seven-thirty, and I�ll be done around ten-thirty. So it would be late, but I�d like to see you.�

God, he really is nervous as hell, Clare thought, shaking her head in wonder. It was, she also thought, rather endearing.

�Anyway, call me if you want to get a late meal or coffee or just get together, I�m sure Houston has some kind of nightlife. Sorry this message was so long.� Click.

�Shit,� Clare said out loud. �Neil, you didn�t leave a number!� But then the electronic voice was prompting her again, and sure enough, the ninth and final message was Neil leaving his cell number. If he�d been nervous before, now he sounded positively mortified. Clare wrote the number � his cell � on a sticky and slapped it on her monitor.

Okay, she thought. So what now? After ten-thirty was fine as far as she was concerned. She would have liked to go to the concert, but not necessarily by herself. Maybe tomorrow. . .

So what now?

Call him back, she decided. She dialed the number he�d left. Two rings, and then, �Hello?�

�Neil, hi, it�s Clare, I got your message.� Her own heart was hammering away madly now, and she found she was having to be careful to keep her voice calm. �Good timing, because I�m between things right this second. On my way to SCUBA training at two.�

�Good, I�m glad - I didn�t know how much time you spend in your office.� Neil sounded surprised to hear from her, she thought. Partly relieved, in fact. �So I�m kind of sorry about the late hour, but would it work?�

�Absolutely,� Clare told him. �I�m sort of a vampire as far as the hours I like to stay up � bed never before two if I have my way � so yes, that�s fine.�

�Oh, wow, great,� Neil responded. �So, okay, how do you want to do this? Do you want to come to the venue, or meet somewhere? I would love to have you here for the show, but I�m not subjecting you to that if you don�t want to go, plus having to meet everyone. If you want,� he slowed and took a breath � �we�ll see about tomorrow. It�ll be up to you. I�m getting ahead of myself, though. . .�

Clare gave what she hoped was something approximating a reassuring chuckle. �Okay, well, I have a sort of an informal, um, thingy, with a bunch of the guys from work after. It�s no big deal, we�re just going for a few beers and stuff at the local dive. We had some crews announced today for upcoming missions, and it�s sort of a tradition. I won�t be out late; I have the bike for one thing and I�m not comfortable riding in the dark on a weekend. So why don�t you call me at home when you�re done. You can come meet me there, and I�ll drive. Yes, Houston has some nightlife, but it�s a little lower-key out where I live. Better late-night food, for one thing.�

�That works. Well, all right,� he told her. �I�ll call you when we�re on intermission then, give you a little advance notice. Very good. I�m looking forward to it.�

�Me too,� Clare agreed. She meant it. She was still surprised he�d called her at all. �Yes, please give me a little warning. It�ll give me a chance to take the locks off of all my bathroom doors. . .�

Neil laughed for real now, sounding much more relaxed since Clare had actually called him back. �Oh no. I can already tell I won�t live that down. Does anyone there know? I didn�t have it in me to admit to anyone here why I ran late.�

�Nope,� she reassured Neil. �Not a soul. Secret�s safe with me. Listen, I need to scamper, but I�ll talk to you later?�

�Definitely. I�ll call, probably around nine-ish. Take care and all, and have fun this evening. See you tonight.�

�Bye.� Clare hung up the phone. Now she felt close to bursting with excitement. She was dying to find Fiona and tell her, but a glance at her watch confirmed that there was no time. She needed to be suited and poolside in fifteen minutes which was just barely doable at a dead run. She broke one of her cardinal rules and for the first time ever rode the motorcycle sans gear over to the training facility. On the way to the locker rooms she saw Stephanie and Jay leaving the NBL together �odd, because Stephanie had no upcoming mission � but merely threw them a wave. No time to stop and chat. She made it to the pool with three minutes to spare. Not the ten that the instructor � a retired Marine � preferred, but it would have to do.

Three and a half hours later, she stepped out of the shower and towelled off, then quickly twisted her hair back into its usual braid. The SCUBA had gone well; in fact, Aaron, the instructor, had told her she was ready for the NBL and wouldn�t be needing to schedule any further training. Amazing, she thought, since she�d worried the entire time that she was too excited and distracted over her pending date.

Dressed, but once again gearless except for the helmet, Clare biked back over to Administration to make a last-minute e-mail check and to grab the things she�d be taking home. No more phone messages awaited her, and, thank god, no urgent e-mails. She fired off a quick one to her crew about passing SCUBA training; hopefully she�d be working in the NBL soon.

As she was zipping in to her motorcycle leathers for the one-mile ride to The Outpost, Elliott knocked on her door. �Hello? I�m looking for Dr. Lefebvre, used to work here? She never calls or writes me anymore, so. . .�

�Ells, hi! I know, I suck, I�m sorry,� she apologized to her best friend. She had known Elliott literally since she�d been in utero, and loved him like a brother. They�d been inseparable growing up, even gone to college together, and everyone assumed they�d marry eventually. Except that Elliott was gay. NASA knew, overlooked it, and after getting to know the quiet, thoughtful Elliott, most of the astronauts never gave it another thought. Even the military guys were, for the most part, at least cordial to him. He had yet to be assigned to a crew, though, and Clare suspected there was an ugly truth behind this. If Elliott thought the same, though, he never let on.

�Forgiven, if you�re going to The Outpost now.�

�I am, in fact. For a little while. So what�s doing? Come on.� Clare picked up her briefcase in one hand, helmet in the other. �Walk out with me.�

�I have news,� Elliott informed her as she locked the office door and they strolled off down the hall. His face was beaming. �Care to guess what it is?�

Clare had a pretty good idea, just judging from Elliott�s exp<b></b>ression, but she kidded around a little anyway. �You found the perfect shoes to go with that Prada evening gown you got on sale?�

�Hag,� Elliott said. It was a game they played.

�Bitch.� Clare countered.

�Whore.�

�Ass bandit.�

�Gutter slut.� It was a new one.

�You win. Okay, spill it, what�s the news?�

�Well, of course I wanted my best friend in the world, even though she�s apparently been too busy for me, to know first. . .That. I. Elliott Gatewood. Am. � He turned to face her, walking backwards. �Assigned to a f***ing crew!� He gave an exultant yell, and Clare joined him.

�Oh my God, Els, it�s about goddam time! When? Which mission? Who else?� she demanded. �Shit, I wish we could work a mission together!�

�130,� Elliott answered, still beaming. �In eighteen months. The longest year and a half of my life. Fergie�s CDR, and he specifically requested me as MS. He came to tell me personally too.�

Clare hugged her friend, overcome with happiness for him. �Elliott, I am so happy for you!�� She dropped her belongings and gave her friend an enormous hug.

�Thanks. I knew you would be,� Elliott returned the hug. �So how�s about you and I go grab a movie, hit the town after The Outpost? It�s been forever since we just hung out. Shit, I�d even be fine with just getting stinking drunk and hanging around the pool at your place.�

Clare felt her heart sink � Elliott was right. �Aw shit, Elliott, I would love to. And we will, but�-

He interrupted her with an exaggerated sigh. �But you have some kind of five-hundred mile run scheduled early tomorrow. Or you�re cleaning the pool tiles individually. C�mon, Clare�-

�Elliott, no, it isn�t that,� Clare protested. �Look, we will, but tonight I� �

�Oh sweet Mother of God. You have a date, don�t you?� Elliott knew her well, no doubt about it. He stepped back and peered into her face, and Clare knew any pretense was useless. �You do. Oh my god, two miracles in one day! I get assigned to a crew and Clare has a date!�

�Ells, chill,� Clare said. �Okay, look, yes, I have a date, okay? �

�No, it isn�t okay,� her friend insisted. �Not until I get all of the details. I have to pre-approve, you know.� He winked at her. �Dirt, baby girl,� Elliott demanded. �Now.�

Clare sighed. There would be no putting Elliott off. On the plus side, she could trust him absolutely to keep it under his hat. And it would be nice to share her excitement with someone. �All right. Keep walking, I�ll tell you. I know, of course, that you�ll keep it quiet.�

She skipped over the part about how exactly she had met Neil, and decided also to leave out the particulars of his occupation. That he was the well-known drummer of a band revered by seemingly everyone at NASA could possibly be information that even Elliott might not be able to keep to himself. Which reminded her � she�d forgotten to look up Neil�s last name.

�So basically you�re just hooking up with some tourist?� Elliott was puzzled. �I mean, not that there�s anything wrong with it, I guess. It just seems odd for you, Miss Finicky�-

�No, it�s hard to explain,� Clare tried. �Look, I don�t know what to say, exactly, but there�s more to it than that. I can tell you more later, if anything comes of it. Even if anything doesn�t, I�ll give you the whole story. Promise.�

Elliott was persistent. �It�s someone famous, isn�t it.�

�Elliott, please. Just let it go, maybe help me pick out what to wear tonight, and I WILL tell you everything.� Thank god, they had reached the parking lot and Clare stood, hand on bike. �I�ll see you there?� She was hot in her leathers and wanted to get moving.

Elliott kissed her cheek. �Fair enough. We�ll talk later. See you in a few.�

The Outpost Bar and Grill, located a little over a mile from the Johnson complex, was busy, but surprisingly not packed. Usually crew announcements were a big gathering point � it was a time-honored tradition for most of the astronaut corps to gather at a bar and congratulate the lucky astronauts who had been assigned to upcoming missions. There were a number of missing faces on this occasion, however.

�Everyone�s gone to that damn concert,� Elliott announced dejectedly as soon as he spotted Clare. �You�d think it was the event of the year, or something.�

�What concert?� Clare asked, innocently, and then nearly bit her tongue as she put two and two together a half-second late.

�Rush, of course,� Fiona had seen Clare come in, and she brought her beer over and joined Elliott and Clare. �I�m going tomorrow night, but there�s a huge contingent there now. They skipped out early to catch soundcheck and everything. Some people are going to both shows.�

�So it�s that big a deal, huh. I didn�t know you were a fan as well.� Clare replied, casually.

�Clare, I can�t believe you�re employed here and you AREN�T a fan,� Fiona countered as she spotted an empty table by the window and claimed it by setting her purse in one of the chairs. �Hell, they�re an institution here. Next time you�re at Kennedy, check the pictures hanging in the Launch Control building. There�s a signed one of the band, all three, they were at the inaugural Columbia launch.� She took a swallow of her drink. �You should go. Even if you aren�t familiar with the music, it�s an amazing show. All three are among the best on their respective instruments. Their drummer is generally considered the best rock drummer ever. He�s incredible to watch.�

Clare felt her heart flutter oddly, and she looked quickly to her left as she sat down, worried that she might be giving herself away. Instead she locked eyes with a rather exuberant-looking Jay Olmsted. It was an opportunity to change the subject. �Hey, Jay, how many crews got named?�

�Three! And I�m CDR on one of them!� He had an ear-to-ear grin as he dropped into the seat next to Clare�s. �Elliott, congratulations. If Ferg hadn�t chosen you I would have. You�ve been kept waiting for too f***ing long for the wrong f***ing reason. I�m happier for you than for myself.�

�Thanks,� Elliott said, and Clare knew he meant it. Jay was one of the astronauts whose military background had given him cause to object, initially, to Elliott�s being gay. But he had also been open-minded enough to change his opinion after working with and getting to know the guy, and he had been big enough to admit it and apologized for his �ignorant attitude�, as he�d put it. That particular action had in turn helped with a few attitude shifts among the rest of the corps, and for this, and other reasons, Clare counted him among her closest friends.

�Lefty, I�m buying,� he informed her. �What can I get you?�

Clare grinned. �Thanks, Jay, but I can�t stick around too late. And I�m on the bike, so I can�t really drink. But I�m really, really happy for you.� She clicked her water glass against the top of Jay�s beer bottle. �Congratulations.�

�Ohh, mysteries abound.� Rina had arrived, still dressed in her blue flight suit; evidently she�d been to Ellington Field. �Clare, I hear there is a man in your life somewhere.� She accepted a beer from the roving barman � Jay had apparently instructed the bar staff to make sure everyone had a drink in hand � and sat.

�Jesus, Ree, where�d you hear that?� Clare turned an accusing stare in Fiona�s direction. �Talk of making a big deal out of nothing.�

Fiona had the good grace to look guilty, at least. �Sorry,� she offered. �But you have no idea how many people were remarking on your, um, strange attitude today. Admit it, you were distracted.�

�I am admitting nothing. God, you people act like I�m some kind of ascetic or misandrist or some sexless cultist or something.� She stared round at her friends. �Okay,� she lowered her voice. �Yes, I do have a date tonight. Yes, it is a first date. No, it is no one any of you know. Yes, if anything works out then you will get to meet him. No, I have no big expectations. He doesn�t even live in this state. Are you all satisfied?�

�Are ya gonna, you know,� Jay made an obscene, grade-school gesture with his hands, �do him?� He cackled wickedly.

�Jay, I,� Clare wanted to reprimand Jay, say something sharp in response, but broke down in a fit of giggles instead and started to choke. That was Jay. She absolutely could not get mad at him. No one could. He pounded her helpfully on the back.

�Oh, come on Clare,� Fiona spoke up. �Yeah, you are catching an unfair amount of shit, I�ll grant you that, but in a way you have to see the point. Someone who looks like you do, who everyone likes, who writes kick-ass personal ads for every single guy here. . .it�s just� �

�Uh-oh. Speaking of doing people.� Rina had been gazing round the bar while listening to the conversation, and now she snapped her head back in their direction. � Jay, you might wish to make like a fetus and leave.� Before anyone could correct her mixup of the idioms, she pointed discreetly in the direction of the door.

Stephanie was there, and she was angry and talking heatedly to someone. The someone turned out to be her husband, and he had grasped her firmly by the arm. As the small group watched, Mike Miller steered his wife outside, where further shouts were exchanged. Then Stephanie wrenched her arm free and re-entered The Outpost, stopping for a moment to compose herself. Her husband stood outside for a moment, staring in, then turned abruptly on his heel and disappeared across the parking lot.

�It would appear,� Clare said, breakingthe silence at their table, �that Mr. Miller is at least semi-aware of what�s going on. Jay, honestly, you need to rethink this one.�

The Navy test pilot sighed. �You�re right, I know. But there�s a lot more there than you know. She�s lonely, she really is, guys. Cut her a little slack. Yes, she can be a little prickly, I know, but she�s also a lot of fun. Her husband doesn�t do a lot around the home and leaves most of the child-raising to Steph. So really, it�s hard to blame her for wanting to get out and cut loose once in a while. �

Clare snorted. �Lonely,� she repeated. �Yeah, and you�re her white knight. She has a husband and two kids, J. I don�t guess she got named to a crew?� Clare hoped the opposite was true. It would certainly improve Stephanie�s recent moody attitude.

But Jay shook his head even as he was getting to his feet. �No, and she�s really hurt. I would have picked her, but geez, you know how that would look with all of the rumors and stuff. Plus Emerson�s MS One on this crew � I didn�t have a choice there. They�ve had TA�s together and he says he can�t stand working with her.� He drained his beer. �I need to spend a little time with her. Talk with you guys later.� He leaned over and clapped Elliott on the back � �congrats, man� � and leered jokingly at Clare. �You, I want details tomorrow. Have a good time, though,� he told her, suddenly serious and kind, �and be yourself. He�ll fall head over heels for you. If he doesn�t he�s not worth it.�

�Well thanks, Jay.� Clare was genuinely touched. �I promise, I�ll tell all of you what didn�t happen, Monday at the latest.�

She stood up herself. �And now, I�m gonna go hit the ladies�, and do the rounds on the new crews. . .� She did have to pee, and it was a good excuse to avoid any more date talk.

It was a fun evening, and Clare was glad she�d attended. The rookies on their first assignments were beaming the entire time � they�d be smiling from now until liftoff. She remembered that feeling; it was one of the best in the world.

At eight o�clock, she returned to her table and began zipping back into her gear. This would give her plenty of time to get home, hopefully take Neil�s call at nine-ish, shower and change, and do a quick pickup of the house. Not that it was terribly messy, but if he were coming to meet her there, she wanted to be sure any and all stray clothing was picked up and that her reeking running shoes were somewhere well out of olfactory range. Before leaving, she scanned the bar for Elliott � she hadn�t been kidding about getting his fashion advice.

Thankfully he was still there. She got his attention and motioned to him. �Hey, I really do need an idea on what to wear. . .�

�Yes, you do.� Elliott, while not in the least bit flamboyant, did possess a few stereotypical gay traits, one of which was clothing sense. He maintained that Clare never made the most of her looks. �You bum around in those t-shirts and denim shorts and sneakers all the time, hair in that damn braid. At least we have you wearing makeup finally� was one of the litanies she�d heard him spout frequently over the years. Her usual response was that it was comfortable, required no thought to assemble, and �Houston is hot, in case you hadn�t noticed. Six pounds of hair hanging down my back isn�t real practical. I dress for the climate, not to impress.�

To which Elliott usually replied, �Well, yes, that�s obvious.�

Now he stood back and scrutinized her, as if he were studying a malfunctioning Main Engine. �Well, it depends on a lot, missy. Where were the two of you thinking of going?�

�I thought Dailey�s. We aren�t headed out until late, around eleven-ish. And he probably won�t have eaten dinner.� Dailey�s was a 24-hour dim-sum bar in Clare�s coastal neighborhood. It had excellent food, good prices, and was far enough off the beaten path that the two of them would be able to hopefully relax and talk easily.

�Oohhh �kaayyyy,� Elliott mused. �Well, I know better than to think you might have a miniskirt. So. Dailey�s is definitely casual. . .why so late?�

Clare was caught off guard by the question. �Because he has work-related stuff until then, is why. And because I�m here.� Nicely recovered, she thought to herself.

Elliott accepted the answer with a look that clearly said he knew she was withholding information from him, but apparently decided to let it pass. �Well, for starters, no black. It�s too somber on you, and this is supposed to be a casual date. And not white, either, because I know you�ll spill. So wear something colorful. I assume you have some shorts that don�t look like you washed the car with them? Or better, some capris?�

�I have some white capris.�

�Perfect,� Elliott affirmed. �Now, shoes. How tall is this guy?�

�Pretty tall, � Clare replied. �Over six feet, I�m guessing around six-three, six-four.� She herself only made 5�1�, stretching.

�Well, then, you need to wear some heels. Not slut-high. . .�

Clare vetoed him. �No heels. I don�t have any casual ones, for starters. And I wouldn�t be used to walking in them, either. I�m not going to make an ass out of myself staggering around.�

Elliott sighed. �Honestly, Clare, we really need to take you shopping. Okay, some sandals will do. How do your feet look? Pedicure lately?�

�Oh, yeah,� Clare gave a sarcastic laugh. �You know me. Mani-pedi, every weekend without fail. No, Ells, my feet look like. . . feet. Sorry. I have my white Keds, and they�re clean.�

A shake of the head from Elliott. �Keds it is, then. I don�t want to insult you, but I do assume you know that no socks is the rule there?�

She hadn�t, but faked it, grateful for the information, then glanced at her watch. �Shit, I have to go! He�s supposed to call me around nine!� The impromptu consultation had held her up another fifteen minutes. �Last question � hair up or down?�

�Up!� Elliott�s answer

This is CATNIP! A precious window into the heart of a female Rush fan.

Mara is a great writer! :ebert: :ebert: :ebert:

[Tombstone Mountain]

Clare's degree—fluid dynamics. Nice touch!