"I need to go," he'd said. He'd pushed himself away from the counter, and with barely a glance in her direction, said, "Later."

He hadn't eaten.

Jo poked at the remnants of her spinach salad. Although the restaurant was noisy, she felt as if she was sitting in a little cone of silence. Café Diem was a strange mix of energy this evening: the failed candidates were disappointed, but the twenty picked for the Titan trip were exultant, celebrating and excited, and their friends, whether selected or not, were happy for them.

And Zane ought to be here. He ought to be ecstatic – he'd done it, he'd overcome the odds, he'd proven he could make it, and he was going to space, to Titan! What was wrong with him?

"Dessert?" Vincent offered, sweeping her plate away from her. "You're obviously not really interested in that salad. Playing with your food isn't like you. I've got some great tiramisu tonight."

"No, thanks." Jo shook her head, setting her fork down.

Vincent shot her a perceptive look as he wiped down the counter. "You feeling okay about not being on Astraeus?"

"Yeah." Jo sighed. She'd felt great about her decision earlier. When she'd withdrawn her name from consideration, she'd been confident and comfortable, as if for once in her life she was making a choice for her and not because she needed to keep up with her big brothers. No, it wasn't Titan that was bothering her. "Hey, can you make me up a special for Zane?" she asked impulsively. He hadn't eaten. She'd just bring him something.

"Sure."

At Zane's door, Jo hesitated before knocking, one hand clutching the bag of take-out. She felt uneasy, more so than made sense. She almost wanted to give herself a pep talk, the "you can do it!" speech she'd use before a big test or some physical challenge. But that was ridiculous. She knocked.

And waited.

When there was no response, she tried again, a little louder, a little harder. Zane's bike was outside. He might have gone for a run, but the lights were on. She'd just taken a step or two away from the door, trying to decide what to do, when he abruptly pulled the door open.

"Hey." He wasn't smiling.

"Hi." She held up the bag. "I brought you something to eat."

He looked at the bag, then at her, opened his mouth, then closed it again. Then he shrugged and pulled the door open. "Come on in." Turning, he led the way back to the kitchen.

Jo followed him. Open cardboard boxes stood next to the bookcase in his living room, a roll of packing tape on the floor next to them. A flutter of fear tickled her stomach and her uneasiness upgraded to anxiety.

In the kitchen, he didn't sit, just leaned against the sink and watched her as she set the bag down on the table.

"You packing?" she asked, trying to keep her voice calm, cool.

"I'll be on Titan for six months." He shrugged. "If I stick my stuff in storage, someone else can use this place while I'm gone."

She bit her lip. That made sense, she supposed. Opening the bag, she took out the take-out tray. "Vincent made you spaghetti and meatballs," she said, pushing the food across the table.

His mouth quirked. "Nice of him. Thanks for bringing it by." The words were almost a dismissal, and Jo took a couple steps closer to him. He was upset, she realized, and it had to be about Titan, about her pulling out.

"Look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you when I withdrew. I only realized during the last interview that I was applying for the wrong reasons."

"Hey, no worries. I'm sorry I wasted so much of your time with orbital dynamics." Looking away from her, Zane pulled open a drawer next to him and rummaged through, grabbing a fork.

"It wasn't wasted," Jo protested. They'd become friends over those equations. The hours they spent studying together had been terrific. His warmth and humor and patience as a tutor had shown her a whole new side of him.

"Yeah, right. Kepler's equations are so useful for maintaining GD security," Zane scoffed.

"You never know what'll come in handy." Jo tried to smile. Hell. Upset was maybe not a strong enough word. She'd felt so good about realizing that she could stop competing with her brothers. Maybe she hadn't considered the bigger picture thoroughly enough.

"You should have just told me it wasn't your dream, Jo. It would have saved us both a lot of effort." Zane picked up the take-out container and flipped the lid open.

Jo took another step closer to him. "Zane, I'm really sorry. I quit for me. I wasn't thinking about how you would feel about it."

"Oh, there's a surprise." Rolling his eyes, Zane chuckled, before putting his fork into the spaghetti, and beginning to twirl noodles onto it.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Jo could feel her pulse starting to pick up a little, hear the edge in her voice.

"Feelings, Jo? I didn't think you thought I had those. Those are something only that other timeline-Zane gets to have, right?" Without taking a bite, he dropped the fork, then dropped the take-out box back on the table and shoved it away. "That reminds me – I'll be right back."

Jo bit her lip as Zane left the kitchen. What could she say to him? How could she explain?

"Catch," Zane said from the doorway, and as she turned, she raised her hand automatically, grabbing the small object he tossed at her out of the air. "You should keep that," he said. "Makes a nice souvenir and I've got one of my own to use someday. And you care about it more than me."

She knew what it was without looking.

"I've got a lot to do to get ready for Titan, Lupo. Mind letting yourself out?"

As he disappeared down the hallway, she opened her hand and looked down at the ring.

She'd screwed up, she realized. She'd really screwed up.

A/N: As you can perhaps tell, I am not very happy about Space Camp. In an interesting irony, I always used to think Jo ought to dump old timeline Zane - he was cute, smart, fun, hot as hell, but seemed like a lousy boyfriend. In this timeline, however, Zane should totally dump her. He can do better! In my next chapter, he's going to get together with the cute florist from the wedding episode. Probably not really. I have no actual plans for a next chapter, but it might make me sad to leave it here. Still, Jo quitting? Ugh. Her little "you should be happy, we get to be apart for six months and a billion miles, congratulations"? Double-ugh. I do not approve, and I may have to become a Carter/Alison shipper instead.