Summary: Houston, we have lift-off.

A/N: The Apollo 11 mission transcripts are a fascinating and inspirational read.

Goodness, but Emma barely slept. Had Killian slept at all? Had any of them slept? How could they possibly sleep?

Dawn burned clear and bright, painting the gleaming rocket in fine, crisp colors. Energy and excitement buzzed all over KSC as the press corps arrived and senior government motorcades jammed the roads around the complex. Usually, this was just the business of launch day - all the prestige and fanfare and palpable energy. But Emma's stomach had never been a more knotted mess.

She blew another sigh, hoping to dispel her anxiousness as she closed the door to her office at the O&C. If there was one good perk to being Midas' secretary, it was her reserved seat in the grandstand for each launch. Of course, she'd watched the previous ones and had known the men in the CSMs, but nothing compared to having the man she loved secured inside.

The butterflies had done nothing to lessen as the shuttle-bus carried her ever closer to the grandstand. She could see the rocket, plain as day and already venting during the pre-launch countdown. What was it like for him up there? All suited up and strapped in? Just waiting for the clock to strike zero. She drew another deep breath as the shuttle-bus pulled to a stop and she stepped out into the bright morning light.

It was easy to move through the assembled crowd. She wasn't a name that everyone had to gladhand, and no one of any importance had linked her as Killian's mystery love. It was just under ten minutes to go and her heart raced. Her eyes flitted between the countdown clock and the rocket in the distance, perched and venting - poised like a caged animal on the brink of escape with all the fury she possessed.

"Emma!" Mary Margaret's voice reached her, the pregnant woman coming up to her side.

She couldn't help but be jealous of the astronaut's wife - Mary Margaret was the perfect picture of proud composure, of beaming love, and cool elegance. Then again, she'd had two other times to watch her husband shoot off into space. Somehow Emma doubted that was the cause of her valiant grace, though. Mary Margaret had always made Emma feel like she was in the presence of a modern day princess. "Oh, Emma - I'm so glad you're here. Regina and I weren't sure if you would be."

She nodded quickly, the motion jerky with nerves. "I...I would be anyway. Perk of the job includes a front-row seat to every launch."

Mary Margaret's eyes softened with infinite understanding. "But this isn't just like every other launch, is it?" A sigh finished her words, sounding a bit nervous even to Emma's ears before her face brightened with a smile. "But you must watch the launch with us. You're in the club, and we'll have to stick together."

Emma's face lit with an appreciative smile, finding some of her anxiety lessen as she followed Mary Margaret up the bleacher steps to sit next to Regina. And, goodness, if Mary Margaret comported herself like a princess, then Regina was truly a queen. Her expression betrayed no hint of nerves or excitement, rather the quiet pride of a woman who knew how she felt but didn't give a wit if anyone else did. She nodded as Emma took her seat next to Mary Margaret. "Nice of you to join us, Emma."

"Oh, I...I wouldn't miss it." She tried for nonchalance, failing miserably as she glanced back at the countdown clock. T minus 06:48.

"He's going to be just fine, you know." Mary Margaret's voice carried soft, warm, and so full of conviction. "They all will be."

"Oh, for Pete's sake," Regina scoffed, "let her be a nervous wreck. You and I both know there are no truly comforting words for the first time that 250,000 miles and one atmosphere come between you and your love."

A disembodied voice came over the loudspeakers. One that she recognized all too well - the Public Affairs Officer. "T minus 4 minutes, 50 seconds and counting. The astronauts will have a few more reports coming up in the countdown. The last business report will be from David Nolan at the 45-second mark in the count when he gives the status on the final alignment of the Stabilization and Control System. We're now passing the 4 minute, 30 second mark in the countdown - still Go at this time."

Emma didn't think her heart could race any faster.

Mary Margaret reached for her hand, holding it gently. "Was he so excited? When you last spoke with him?"

"I haven't talked with him since the morning he went into quarantine," she flushed, all too late realizing the implication of her words, "but yes, he was excited. And ready, eager - so sure of everything. And I…," she paused for a breath, surprised to find that talking about him - this - was actually helping. "I'm so happy for him, and proud...but it's still so dangerous and I can't…. Any one of a million things could go wrong." She couldn't help but think to the days when she watched the harrowing coverage of Apollo 13. But the program had come so far, surely - surely they were miles away from another repeat disaster. Right?

"...We are Go for Apollo 19. We'll go on an automatic sequence starting at 3 minutes and 7 seconds. In the final abort check between several key members of the crew here in the Launch Control Center and the astronauts, Launch Operations Manager Bryce Tolliver wished the crew, on the launch teams' behalf, 'Good luck and Godspeed.'"

Regina blew an uncharacteristically shaky breath. "Sure, any number of a million things could go wrong. But that's their jobs - it's what they've all trained for. And they will do whatever it takes to come back home. That's something you can always count on."

" ...All still Go at this time. David Nolan reported back when he received the good wishes: 'Thank you very much. We know it will be a good flight. See you in two weeks.' Firing command coming in now. We are on the automatic sequence. T minus 3 - we are Go with all elements of the mission at this time."

Mary Margaret's breath caught in her throat but her smile never faltered. Emma squeezed her hand without thinking, feeling Mary Margaret instantly return the hold. None of them could tear their eyes away from the rocket, watching it steam and gleam in the sunlight.

"The target for the Apollo 19 astronauts, the Moon, at lift-off will be at a distance of 218,096 miles away. T-minus 1 minute, 54 seconds and counting. We continue to build pressure in all three rocket stages here at the last minute to prepare for lift-off…."

Emma's heart pounded. She wanted to cry, she wanted to run, she wanted to laugh, she wanted to scream. Mary Margaret shot to her feet and Emma followed her. Regina stood instantly with them as the clock ticked.

"We've passed T minus 60. 55 seconds and counting. David Nolan just reported back: 'Couldn't have asked for a better countdown.' 40 seconds away from the Apollo 19 lift-off. All stage tanks are now pressurized. 35 seconds and counting. We are still Go with Apollo 19. 30 seconds and counting. Astronauts report: 'Everything feels good.' T minus 15 seconds, guidance is internal. Twelve, 11, 10, 9, ignition sequence starts…"

Flame erupted from the base of the rocket, smoke engulfing it just as quick. A trembling whimper tore from Mary Margaret's throat as Regina's hand landed on top of her and Emma's still enclosed hands. Emma's other hand landed on top of Regina's as the three women clung to each other watching, waiting, transfixed.

"...3, 2, 1, zero. All engines running - LIFT-OFF! We have a lift-off, 48 minutes past the hour. Lift-off on Apollo 19."

The concussion from ignition reached her ears, reverberating in her chest. And all so slowly - the rocket started to move, gaining in speed and acceleration as she lifted off.

Emma didn't even register the tears on her cheek as the rocket cleared the tower, leaving nothing but a column of flame and smoke in its wake, and applause thundering in her ears.