Dr. Christopher Beck had not made a habit of falling in love.
His last college girlfriend had tears in her eyes when she broke up with him. "I'm sorry, Chris, but it's not gonna work. For you, there's only going to be time for one in your life: love or your career. Maybe you can date after you retire."
He took her words to heart. Beck threw himself into his career and became a towering figure in the world of medicine. When he joined the military, he was similarly invested. He was charming and successful, but famously heartless. No dates, no sex, no romance. His heart was his secret. All through medical school he had developed crushes on anyone within eyeshot, his heart constantly demanding the one thing it couldn't have. By the time he added astronaut to his resume, however, he had come to believe his own robotic exterior. He filled his empty apartment with friends, and learned the beauty of male/female friendship. His life was work and society, and in both he was a towering success.
Training –
When he first met the crew he was to spend the next few years with, he was slightly blindsided by Lewis. The powerful, glamorous, redhead was exactly his type and he struggled slightly to level himself. He managed it after only a few days, and this final triumph fully convinced him of his immunity.
Johanssen was mostly invisible during this time. While the rest of the crew bonded immediately, she stayed slightly apart. Quiet, shy, and often lost in her own world, she arrived later than anyone else to training, swathed in giant grey hoodies and gulping feverishly at mugs of coffee spiked with Red Bull.
Beck noticed this heresy on the first day, shocked at the medical blasphemy. He assumed that someone on their medical team would call her out on it, but for several days, no one seemed to notice. On the third day, his patience ran dry and he pulled her aside in the hallway before she could get into the breakfast room.
It was the first time he noticed how tiny she was, swallowed in her hoodie. "Johanssen," he greeted her, slipping easily into his medical tone, "I couldn't help but notice what you did to your coffee this morning."
"Every morning," she muttered.
"Excuse me?"
"You've noticed every morning," she repeated, taking a gulp from her mug. "I noticed you noticing."
"Yes, well, Johanssen, it's got to stop. I don't have time to even go into the things that does to your heart, when they catch you at it, it could actually jeopardize your chance to…" his voice trailed off as he looked down into her giant brown eyes, and he noticed the steel shimmering underneath.
She gazed up at him trustingly, "Dr. Beck, in your professional opinion, is it better for me to be conscious or unconscious during training?"
"I - ," he began, and stopped as she took a giant slurp from her over-caffeinated drink.
From there on out, Johanssen was his favorite member of the team. But he did not fall in love with her then.
Earth Day: Part 1 –
"Earth Day" was Watney's idea, of course. The idea of having one last night out on the town, drinking and dancing and eating whatever Earth food they preferred, was one he had cherished for months. They were already years into training, and it was the last night that they would be given permission for such a feat, and he had finally talked Lewis into accompanying them.
"We're just going to a bar," he cajoled her. "One night out. Nobody's getting court-marshalled, on my honor, Commander."
She had a slight weakness towards him, they had all noticed. Most of them did. His dry wit, foul mouth, and propensity to say aloud what everyone else was thinking had endeared him to the team from the first day.
So they sat at the bar, savoring the rich salty food and the warm buzz of alcohol.
Johanssen started getting drunk on her first beer. Nobody noticed for a while. She was just as quiet tipsy as she was sober, but she started getting flirty on her second drink, and Beck felt uncomfortable. That was when Watney extended an open invitation to move the party to a nearby club. A short and predictable battle was waged over this for a few moments and the botanist walked away the victor once again.
Beck's discomfort only increased after arriving in the club. It felt strange, to be in this setting with these people, and his big brother protectiveness towards Johanssen was triggered again. She had ordered and downed three shots before anyone could stop her, and suddenly opened up. She pulled on Vogel's face, for a while, calling him "Mr. Grumpy" and demanding that he dance with her. He sweetly turned her down and then she turned to Lewis, begging for a dance. Lewis was engaged in some heated debate with Martinez, some topic far more suited to a NASA simulator than a club floor, and basically brushed her off.
Beck kept talking to Vogel, watching her cautiously, suddenly wondering what he would do if she asked him to dance, but she turned instead to Watney, who was closer, and wrapped herself around his waist. "Mark! Dance with me!" she shouted over the pulsing music, and he grinned and slammed another shot before taking her hand.
Lewis seemed to notice suddenly, and a look of concern came over her face. "Don't worry, Commander, I've got her! You nerds don't know how to party!" Mark shouted, leading her away to a sweaty cluster of dancers.
Beck's mood grew worse as he leaned on the bar, no longer even trying to follow Vogel's line of conversation. Johanssen was too out of it to do much dancing, so Watney was propping her up as they moved. She had ditched the jeans and hoodies for the evening out and had dressed up, in a sweetly punk way. Beck realized that his view of her had always been one of large brown eyes, fierce little mouth and a tiny form, but the other dancers were eyeing her in a very different way. She was wearing patterned tights and heeled boots, with a short school-girl looking skirt. Her top was cut low and her thick eyeliner made her eyes even larger. He saw her suddenly as the punk hacker she could have become if her life had been aligned slightly differently. Her little hands rested on Watney's shoulders as she twisted to the music, and Beck did not like it at all.
He waited a good fifteen minutes, wrestling with himself, but the dancers still showed no inclination to return to the bar and he moved up to Lewis. "Commander, I think it's time Johanssen got home," he shouted.
Lewis eyed him in surprise and looked out on the dance floor then back to the doctor. "She seems to be doing okay," she returned calmly.
One of the other men on the floor had been moving closer and closer to Johanssen, watching her with an expression that Watney didn't seem to be noticing.
"She's not used to drinking this much, I think I'll take her home," Beck repeated.
Lewis smiled slightly, glancing back and forth again. "Well, you're the doctor," she replied, and it was enough for him.
He moved to the dance floor and got in Watney's face. "Hey, I'm gonna take her home!" he yelled.
Mark nodded and gave a big thumbs up, turning to move back to the bar, and Beck moved to catch Johanssen.
"Doctor!" she exclaimed, grinning up at him. "Dance with me, we have to dance!"
"Johanssen…" he began, but she laughed and pulled at his hands.
Before he could say anything else, he saw the man leering behind her moving close again. Suddenly pulling her in to himself, he set his jaw and glared up at the man. All of his time in the military suddenly channeled into his eyes and he snarled over the music, "Hands off!"
The man staggered backwards, then laughed and turned away.
Beck, heart hammering in rage, dropped his eyes back to the tiny computer genius in his arms. She was swaying slightly and nestled into his neck. He stood for a moment, calming himself down, hands tangled in her short hair, head dropped protectively over hers.
"Beth," he said quietly into her ear.
She sighed contentedly. "I'm not Beth. I'm drunk."
He chuckled, "Beth, Commander Lewis says it's time to go get a taxi. Can you come with me?"
He felt her mouth scowl stubbornly against his neck and suddenly wondered how much of a battle he would have this time.
"I'm not a taxi," she pouted. "Let's go home."
He tucked her carefully under one arm and moved to the exit, oblivious to the eyes of the crew watching them leave.
"Well that was cute," Martinez remarked with a knowing smirk.
Mark laughed aloud, leaning on the bar, somewhat the worse for wear himself.
Lewis frowned thoughtfully, "Well, I guess… that's something to keep an eye on."
Johanssen fell asleep in the taxi as soon as the door slammed shut. She was nestled under his arm, drooling slightly into his favorite shirt, but he did not fall in love with her then.