#crammit

The soft whirring of the panel finally stops and as Brittany leans back, resting her weight on her palms pressing into the mattress, a soft smile breaks out across her face.  She’s been stationed at Lunar Base Delta for a little over six months and the twinkling expanse of space that greets her every morning still fills her with wonder.  Even as a fourth generation Docking Specialist, growing up with the stories, pictures, and videos of space, and even after hours of simulation, nothing compares to finally being at the base.  The blues, whites, and muted browns of Earth are the only splash of color in an otherwise vast expanse of black and Brittany smiles wider this time, feeling pride that the melancholy that afflicts almost everyone when they first get here no longer washes over her.  Even with the technology allowing for almost seamless interaction with those back on Earth, there is a disorientation that comes from realizing how far away you actually are from your family and friends back home.  The structure of daily life on the base, as well as required personal time in the holo-modules with loved ones back home, are designed to help ease the transition from Earth life to lunar life but it can be a hard transition for some people, sometimes taking almost a year before they can shake off the melancholy.  It was a tough adjustment for Brittany at first but now, the wave that she gives the view in the panel above her bed is another comforting part of the start of her day rather than a reminder that for the next five years, this moon is her home.

Sliding her legs over the edge of her bed, she presses a button on the wall, the lights in her room gradually turning on.  With one last look to the open panel above her, Brittany touches the screen and sends the panel closed again.  This morning ritual was her second favorite part of the day.  As if on cue, the bedside screen beeps in a distinct pattern and she smiles for an entirely different reason as her favorite part of the day shimmers into focus on the screen next to her bed.  “Hi, Santana.”

“How are you so perky in the morning?”  The gravelly voice emerges from behind a curtain of dark wavy hair and Brittany waits with a grin as Santana sits back up, efficiently tying her long hair back into a bun, the sleep creases on the side of her left cheek making Brittany’s heart melt a little in her chest.  Yawning, Santana squints at Brittany through the screen, seemingly unaffected by the bright grin aimed in her direction.  “You look like you got a full twelve hours sleep instead of the four we actually got.  It’s gross.”

Giving in to the amusement she feels at Santana’s distinct lack of morning appreciation, Brittany laughs and checks the urge to trace the screen over Santana’s face.  There’s something there between her and Santana, something that’s been building since they were paired together their third year in specialist training, but for some reason, Santana keeps her at arm’s-length.  Content with Santana’s friendship in the beginning, Brittany held a tight rein on her growing feelings for Santana, never pushing her but making sure that she knew that Brittany was there.  These past few months since they’ve been stationed together have tested Brittany’s ability to keep her feelings in check, the preparation for receiving the new radar system for the station ensuring that when they weren’t stealing a few precious hours of sleep, Brittany and Santana were side by side.  The diagnostics checks alone were time consuming but after the asteroid storm last month damaged a third of the main docking station, the repairs needed to ensure that they could receive the transport ship meant long, grueling hours both inside and outside the base.  And while Brittany’s muscles hated the long hours and her brain was in dire need of some down time, she knows that deep down she wouldn’t trade a single moment spent working with Santana for anything in the world.

Smiling wider, Brittany lets some of her happiness over seeing Santana’s face first thing in the morning blend with her eagerness to get the day started, despite the overtime they put in last night.  “I can’t help it.  I’m excited.  Today’s the day, Santana.”

Her back protesting the movement, Santana groans a little as she stretches her arms above her head, missing the flush covering Brittany’s cheeks as her t-shirt rides up a little bit on her stomach.  The soreness in Santana’s arms and shoulders, coupled with her tossing and turning most of the night, had her feeling moody and irritated this morning when she first woke up.  But as Brittany’s smile never dims, despite the scowl Santana knows is covering her face, she feels her cheeks curving before she can stop it.  She may be exhausted but there is just something about a smiling, happy Brittany first thing in the morning that always manages to make Santana’s stomach flutter in a way that’s getting harder and harder to ignore.

“Well, that’s assuming that Captain Reynolds is even on time.  He kept us waiting for two damn days with parts for the heating system last time he took this run.”

“I remember.  You looked adorable in your thermal suit.”  Catching Santana off-guard with her comment, Brittany hides her grin behind her hand, pretending to yawn as Santana looks away and clears her throat.  Giving Santana an out, Brittany grabs her watch from the bedside table, clicking it into place on her wrist and holding her hand up as she waits for Santana to do the same.  “I’m sure given the importance of the new radar system he’ll be on time today.  Are you ready to synch?”

At Santana’s nod, Brittany clicks the button on the side of watch, an echoing beep coming through the screen as Santana does the same.  With one final look over Santana’s sleepy face, Brittany smiles and reaches her finger up to hover over the screen in preparation to end the call. “I’ll see you after breakfast, okay?”

“Sounds good.  I’ll meet you in Bay 12.  Have a good morning, Brittany.”

Santana beats Brittany to ending the call and as the screen slowly darkens, Brittany gives in and traces the faint lingering outline of Santana’s cheek before the screen turns black, the main menu popping up with small beep.  Inhaling deeply, Brittany lets her breath out slowly and stands up into a full body stretch.  Heading to the small bathroom to get ready for the day, Brittany can’t help but let out an excited noise, eager after all these months of prepping to finally have this day arrive.  The day she takes over as lead Docking Specialist and for a project as important as this one, she’s grateful knowing that it’ll be Santana at her side.  Catching the dopey look on her face as she glances in the bathroom mirror, Brittany shakes her head and focuses, brushing her teeth as she starts to plan her day.

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With the bay doors whooshing closed behind her, Santana tucks her modified computer unit under arm and heads down the first set of stairs, her eyes already scanning for Brittany’s blonde hair as she gets to the first landing and continues down to the main floor.  The bay itself is quiet except for the usual hum of electronics and the constant white noise of the air filtration system doing its job of keeping them alive inside the base.  Looking at her wrist, Santana can’t control the small rush of excitement as her watch shows just a short time to go before Captain Reynolds is expected to make his approach.  Santana approaches the main console, getting her computer hooked up, and booted up, to synch with the mainframe.  Concentrating on going through her checklist for the system, she doesn’t hear Brittany come up behind her until she feels a teasing finger poke the back of her ribs.

“Jesus!”

“Nope, just me.”

Rolling her eyes at Brittany’s grin, Santana laughs anyway, glancing down at the items in Brittany’s hand.  “Are you all set?”

“Almost.  I just have to put on my space suit and do my final checklist on the connector pod.”

Entering a few commands into her computer, they both look over as the lights on the connector pod turn on.  Continuing to type, Santana side eyes Brittany as she walks over to the standing locker behind the console.  “You know nobody calls it a space suit, right?”

“Because they’re lame and anal retentive.  They called them space suits in all the old movies we watched growing up and if it was good enough for them, it’s good enough for me.”

Santana’s fingers stop typing as Brittany removes her work jacket and pants, standing in front of the open door of standing locker in just her tank top and underwear as she pulls one of the suits from a large hanger.  Santana allows herself a moment of ogling as the lean muscles in Brittany’s shoulders and back flex and release as she pulls the heavy suit in front of her, her long legs stepping gracefully into the heavy boots attached at the bottom.  A loud beeping noise has Brittany turning around quickly, a sly smile on her face as she catches Santana watching her.  Realizing the beeping is coming from her computer, Santana turns around, her cheeks warm as she sees that she accidentally hit a wrong key on the keyboard.

Muttering under breath, Santana adjusts the end of the command and hits ‘enter’, closing out the window on her screen to prevent her from doing any more damage.  She can hear Brittany shuffling around behind her and Santana removes a small connector module from her pocket, intending to head down to the pod to hook it up and let Brittany finish getting ready but Brittany’s amused voice stops her.

“Um, Santana?”

Turning around, Santana’s cheeks warm once again as she sees Brittany waiting patiently for her, confused as to why Santana would leave before the suit was fully on.  “Oh, uh…sorry.  You mean you can’t get the back?”

Santana’s attempt at a joke gets a small laugh from Brittany but Santana can feel Brittany watching her as she gets closer, the scrutiny in her eyes carrying more weight than just being unable to close her suit.  “Are you okay?  We can do this, you know.  After all our training, guiding a successful dock will be nice and easy.”

Taking a few moments to seal the back of Brittany’s suit, Santana rests her hands on Brittany’s shoulders and turns her around, all traces of playfulness gone.  “Training is just that, Brittany.  Training.  This is the real deal with a real ship and real cargo that we are responsible for.  I hope it’s nice and easy but we shouldn’t think it will be.  We have to be prepared for anything.”

Grabbing Santana’s hands before she can step away, Brittany takes a small step closer, her gaze flickering between Santana’s eyes before she gestures to her suit.  “I am prepared.  I’ve got my emergency space suit on just in case and I’ve triple run the diagnostics check on the bay and the connector pod.  Your computer behind you is flashing green so I know you’re ready.  And I’m ready for this.  We are so ready for this, Santana.”

The smile that Brittany gives her loosens some of the tension in Santana’s shoulders, the infectious enthusiasm inherent in everything that Brittany does coming through in the excitement she can see in Brittany’s eyes.  And Santana knows that despite Brittany’s easy going manner right now, what she said is true.  Everything has been checked and rechecked and checked again because that’s the kind of person that Brittany is and not for the first time, Santana feels a rush of affection for the woman standing in front of her.  Squeezing Brittany’s hands lightly, Santana pulls the head cover from the pocket of the Brittany’s suit, reaching behind her to hand Brittany a headset once she pulled the head cover over her head.  Grinning at Brittany as she puts the headset on, Santana shakes her head as Brittany watches her.  “You look like a little kid in that getup.”

Picking her tool kit up from the table next to her, Brittany clips it to the utility belt on the suit, her leg muscles already feeling the strain of carrying the extra weight.  Smirking at Santana, Brittany smacks her lightly on her ass as she passes her, winking as she heads down the stairs.  “Lucky for you, I’m not.”

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“Lunar Base Delta 5-9-4, this is the Argonaut on approach.  I’m in the pipe, five by five.”

Snorting at the captain’s phrase, Santana looks down at the tracking system, pulling the mic on her headset closer to her mouth.  “We read you, Argonaut.  Be aware that asteroid proximity has increased by eight hundred meters and we recommend advancing thrusters by thirteen percent.”

“Copy that, 5-9-4.  Advancing thrusters.  ETA twelve minutes.”

“Acknowledged.”

Santana takes a moment to look over the main console at Brittany, her body language that of an eager child, despite her protests to the contrary earlier.  Glancing one more time at the console to make sure everything was still progressing as expected, Santana observes Brittany as she prepares the bay to receive the new radar system, handling the levers and lifts with ease.  Since her preparation earlier was impeccable, it only takes a few minutes before Brittany moves to the connector pod and starts the most important part of her job.  Pride rushes through Santana at how capable Brittany is at this, knowing that she got that way through hard work and at times, sheer will pushing her to get better and better at a task until it became second nature.  Being assigned the responsibility of receiving the radar system was a big deal, for both of them admittedly, but the smile Santana shares with Brittany before they each return to their tasks is full of admiration for Brittany alone.

Warmed by the smile Santana sent her way, Brittany jumps the two feet off the main platform to the floor of the connector pod, listening to the call and response between Santana and Captain Reynolds as he gets closer to the base.  Stepping through the decompression chamber, Brittany flips the caps off the safety switches, using the key on her belt to unlock the panel for the emergency door.  After the ship docks successfully, she’ll step out and seal the main door, decompressing and equalizing the connection between the bay and Captain Reynolds’ ship, allowing for safe passage between the two areas.  It should go nice and smoothly but still, she feels better with the panel ready for the emergency door, understanding that in the event of an accident, it’ll be the only thing preventing the entire docking bay from being in danger.  

At the six minute count, Brittany moves to the control board sticking out from one of the walls of the pod, entering her code and unlocking the four metal arms from their resting position.  It’s her job to line them up so that they catch on the docking frame located on the front of Captain Reynolds’ ship and with half an ear to the conversation happening on her headset, she moves closer to the window to spot the ship with her own eyes.  With a low whistle, a grin splits her face at the beauty of it moving through space and approaching her bay.  Her bay.  She didn’t think it was possible for her smile to grow any wider but it does as she hears Santana hand the controls over to her, Captain Reynolds’ voice greeting her warmly over the headset.

“Argonaut on final approach, 5-9-4.  T-minus three minutes.  Docking frame is in omega position and thrusters are reversing at fifty three percent, gravitational pull holding steady and within normal limits.”

“Reading you loud and clear, Argonaut.  Docking arms are released and ready and coupling protocol has been initiated.  Ease your descent by seven degrees and increase thruster reverse by five percent.  Let’s get hitched, Argonaut.”

“I thought you’d never ask, 5-9-4.  Preparing to…”

The sound of a warning alarm blares through Captain Reynolds’ connection and Brittany turns to look back at Santana as she stands up at the console.

“5-9-4, I’m reading imminent impact on the starboard side.  Please confirm.”

Pushing a button, Santana swipes the image on her screen to holo in front of her, the real time images revealing a second asteroid hidden behind the first one.  Before she can turn the image to access the situation, the second asteroid collides with the first one, the gravitational pull of the moon and the velocity of the ship pulling it out of the other asteroid’s shadow.  Quickly calculating the trajectory, Santana looks through the observation window as she sends commands to the captain through her headset.

“Argonaut, advance thrusters now!  Captain, you’ll have to push yourself ahead of the projectile.  You’ll come in hard to the connector pod but it’s designed to withstand more than what the weight of your ship will throw at it.”

Locking eyes with Brittany across the docking bay, Santana speaks urgently to her.  “Brittany, set the arms to auto and get out of there.”

Glancing down at the data scrolling across the computer at her side, Brittany shakes her head and slides the controls to manual.  “I can’t.  It will take me too long to program them for the new velocity of the ship.  I’ll have to throw the levels manually and hope they catch.”

“You can’t be down there for impact.”

“I thought you said the pod will hold?”

Santana’s brain is filled with numbers and calculations and engineering logistics and despite knowing the weight of Captain Reynolds’ ship with and without cargo and despite understanding the support structure of the connector pod, there isn’t a single part of her that’s willing to risk her knowledge against Brittany’s life.  “It will but you shouldn’t be in there when it happens.  You need to…”

“5-9-4, brace for impact on the connector pod.  It looks like the projectile is going to clear my ship but I’m coming in hot.”

Even with her stomach trembling with fear, Brittany thinks to grab one of the emergency helmets, locking it into place with a soft hiss as the oxygen tank located in the back fills the mask with breathable air.  Cold sweat is dripping down her back as she watches the image of the ship getting closer, her hand on the master lever for the docking arms.  There is complete silence on her headset as the three of them wait for the ship to hit and less than a second later, with a prayer in her mind, Brittany throws the master lever just as the ship collides with the connector pod.  Holding her breath, Brittany looks up at the status lights above each arm, all four of them holding at a solid green.  Before Brittany can turn to Santana with a happy shout, a wrenching sound drops her stomach, the light over one of the arms flashing red.

“Impact!  Impact!  The projectile has clipped the back of my ship, 5-9-4!”

The force of the asteroid hitting the ship pulls everything to the right and judging from the sound, Brittany figures she has a few seconds before that docking arm pulls clear of the connector pod.  With her heart sinking, Brittany turns around and sees Santana sprinting from the main console towards the pod, her voice shaking with the force of running.  “Brittany, get out of there!!”

Time seems to slow as she looks at Santana, regret in her eyes as she jumps forward and before Santana can react, Brittany hits the button for the emergency door, sealing herself into the connector pod just as another horrible tearing sound echoes around her.  Brittany watches as Santana throws herself at the door, banging frantically on the glass as the inches thick material prevents Santana’s fists from making much noise at all.  There’s a lump in her throat at the look on Santana’s face but Brittany has to push it away as the warning lights and alarms start to flash in chaos all around her.  Stepping towards the manual override release lever, she has just enough time to pull it before the seal breaks around the docking arm, air rushing out through as the decompression chamber starts to misfire.  Weightlessness sets in and she has to grab onto one of the safety rungs, moving hand over hand until she reaches the compromised docking arm.  Understanding that she has a few minutes at best to try and stop the connector pod from being carried away with the ship before she’ll probably be killed, Brittany makes the decision to try and release the lever for the broken docking arm manually. With the impact over, if Captain Reynolds can right his ship and she can pull the arm off of the docking frame, the other three arms should be enough to complete the coupling and allow for the emergency seal to kick in and close the hole.

Brittany can hear Santana screaming at her through her headset, Captain Reynolds’ panicked voice pleading with her as well to get out of there.  Ignoring their pleas, Brittany spares a quick glance through the glass of the emergency door, her heart clenching hard at the look of horror and distress on Santana’s face, her fists continuing to beat against the glass. Brutally pushing away her own fear and distress, Brittany flips the switch on her audio to off, forcing herself to tune everything else out.  All she can hear is her breathing, the harsh sound echoing in her helmet as she opens the kit attached to her belt.   She can feel the pod trembling under her hands and she knows that Captain Reynolds is fighting to hold the ship in place, trying to give Brittany a precious few more moments to attempt to save herself and the ship.  Brittany knows that if she doesn’t get this fixed, the captain will have no choice but to undock before he risks compromising the integrity of the entire bay, not to mention his own ship.  And if he undocks, Brittany understands that she’s as good as dead as he’d no doubt take some of the connecter pod with him.

Pushing forward, she hooks her feet beneath one of the footholds, her body tilting to the side before she can grab onto the edge of the frame.  Her hands are sweating inside the thick gloves of her suit and despite her urgent attempts to control it, her heart continues to pound violently in her chest.  The alarms and alarm lights are blaring and blinking and she fights to tune them out as well, her only focus on the six inches of space between the two coupling units.  Gritting her teeth, she grabs one of her specialized wrenches and latches it onto of the levers, pulling down as hard as she can in the hope that she can get the arm to unlock from the other side, knowing it’s her only chance to try and get the alignment right and save herself.  The lever barely moves and so she redoubles her efforts, her shoulders straining against the effort.  She can see the captain through the small window in the pod door and she sees him scramble to the other side of his console, the walls of the pod shuddering as he realizes what Brittany is trying to do and he steers his ship to trying and relieve some of the pressure on the broken docking arm.

The quick burst of static in her headset startles her and she realizes that Santana hacked into the computer system, overriding her muted communications system.  “Brittany, what the hell are you doing?  Get out of there!”

“I just need to unlock the lever and Captain Reynolds can reconnect, even with the damaged arm.  It’s our only chance to save the pod.  I can do this.”

“I don’t care!  Get out of there and let him undock and rip the pod to shreds for all I care.  You’re going to die if you don’t get out of there right now.”

Shaking her head, Brittany gets a better grip on the wrench and pulls harder, a new alarm joining the others as her oxygen tank lets her know that she’s dropped below fifteen percent.  Exhaling sharply, Brittany vents her frustration at her luck of having grabbed a helmet that wasn’t prepped with a full oxygen tank, using her anger at her oversight to inch the lever down a little further.  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.  Come on…COME ON!”

Her legs are shaking as she struggles to keep her feet in place, desperation forcing her breath to rush in and out faster and she knows that she’s using the last of her oxygen too quickly but she can feel the lever giving way which means the docking arm is almost loose.  She can hear other voices now in the background of the docking bay as Santana speaks to her again but they all fade away as Santana pleads with her again, the edges of Brittany’s vision starting to dim as her oxygen tank begins to inch towards empty.

“Brittany…please don’t do this.  You can’t do this.  Don’t leave me.  You can’t leave me, you hear me?  Goddammit, please.  Open the door and we can get you inside, okay?  Brittany, I can’t lose you so you just open the fucking door right now, okay?  Brittany?  Brittany!”

The sound of Santana’s voice brings tears to Brittany’s eyes and she wants to answer her but her oxygen tank just gave the final warning sound and with one last inhale, Brittany pulls with everything she has.  She feels the wrench give way in her hands as the lever clicks down, the arm unlocking and allowing the coupling of the pod and the ship to complete.  As the decompression protocol kicks in, the emergency seal filling in the space around the broken arm, gravity knocks Brittany onto her back.  Exhaling, Brittany manages to weakly raise her arm in a thumbs-up, the alarms suddenly stopping before everything goes black.

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The feel of something warm in her hand pulls Brittany from the dark, her eyelashes fluttering before squinting against the bright lights above her.  Turning her head slowly, Brittany realizes that she’s in the medical wing, the mask over her face pushing cool oxygen back into her lungs and she breathes in gratefully.  Glancing down, she sees that it is Santana’s hand that’s she’s holding, Santana’s head pillowed on her other arm as she sleeps against Brittany’s side.  Even with the comfortable chair under her, Brittany knows that Santana’s back is going to be unhappy from being in that position so she squeezes her hand, reaching up to pull the mask down as Santana jolts upright.

“Hi.”  Scowling at how weak and raspy her voice sounds, Brittany tries to speak again only to have Santana shaking her head, reaching up to gently replace Brittany’s oxygen mask.

“No, no.  Don’t take that off and don’t try to talk, Brittany.”

An alarm beeps above Brittany’s head alerting the medical staff that she’s awake and a few seconds later, a nurse steps into the room, smiling as she rests her hand on Brittany’s foot under the covers.  “Welcome back, Miss Pierce.  We’re very happy to see you still with us.  You gave that one right there quite a bit of a scare.  She hasn’t left your side since they brought you in yesterday.”

Blushing at the nurse’s statement, Santana tries to remove her hand from Brittany’s, glancing over quickly as Brittany tightens her fingers, keeping Santana’s hand there.  Ignoring the amused look on the nurse’s face, Santana sits up a little straighter and with all the dignity she can muster while holding hands with Brittany, Santana nods towards the open door of the room.  “Shouldn’t you go and get the doctor or something?”

With a shameless grin, the nurse pats Brittany’s foot one more time, her eyes twinkling as she looks between the two women.  “I’ll page Dr. Ripley now.  She’s going to be happy to see that you’re awake, Miss Pierce.  I’ll send word to Captain Reynolds as well.  When he hasn’t been regaling the nurses with your tale of heroism, he’s been bugging them for an update about your condition.  Now, you keep that mask on and just rest and Dr. Ripley will be with you shortly.”

Before Santana can glare at the nurse as she walks out, Brittany reaches up to remove her mask, drawing Santana’s attention back to her.  “Didn’t you just hear the nurse?  You shouldn’t take that off, Brittany.  You’re so stubborn.  Why are you so stubborn?”

Santana’s voice breaks on the last word and Brittany knows that she’s not just talking about removing her mask, her chest constricting at the look on Santana’s face.  Licking her lips, Brittany brings her other hand to Santana’s face, pulling her closer as she looks at her.  “I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry, Santana.”

Silently, Santana watches her, the depth of emotion in Brittany’s eyes finally pulling aside the barrier that Santana set up between them.  Echoing her words from the day before, Santana moves even closer, wrapping her free hand around Brittany’s wrist as she keeps Brittany’s hand on the side of her face.  “I can’t lose you.  I don’t know what I’d do without you, Brittany.”

Sitting up slightly, Brittany pulls Santana to her, her mouth gentle as she kisses Santana for the first time.  It’s not how she imagined her first kiss with Santana to be, with her lying on a hospital bed after almost dying, but it’s still more perfect than she could have hoped for as Santana returns her kiss.  It ends sooner than Brittany would have liked as Santana gently eases her back down to the bed, placing the mask back over Brittany’s face with a smile.  “You need to keep this on.”

The disappointing sound that Brittany makes has Santana’s smile growing, a dimple peeking out as she reaches up to brush some of Brittany’s hair back from her face.  “I know.  Believe me, I know.  But you need to get oxygen into your body so you’ll feel better.  Once the doctor says that you don’t need the mask any more, we can resume what you started.”

Laughing as Brittany wiggles her eyebrows, Santana indulges them both and leans up to place a kiss on Brittany’s cheek, her eyes and voice serious again as she looks into Brittany’s eyes.  “I’ve been so stupid all of these years.  Keeping you at arm’s-length for reasons that I don’t even understand anymore and for what?  Seeing you in that connector pod and thinking you were going to die without me ever telling you how I felt about you…I promised myself that if you made it, I wouldn’t waste any more time on stupid reasons.  And you’re here now, with me and alive and…I love you, Brittany.  I love you so much, my brave, incredible girl.”

Despite Santana’s warning, Brittany has to remove her mask, her heart beating wildly at Santana’s declaration.  Resting her hand against Santana’s cheek, Brittany’s soft voice is earnest as she looks at Santana, this moment healing her better than any medicine could.  “I love you too, Santana.  To the moon and back.”