This was my contribution to last year's OQ Advent Calendar. I realized I never actually posted it on here soooo here you are! Hope everyone's excited for this year's calendar, as well! I'm sure it's going to be fantastic as always.
She's been up here many times over the years, and it still doesn't get old.
They'd told her during her training that the endless blackness could be unsettling at times, but to Regina it just looks... exciting. It invites her to explore it, tantalizes her with flashes of light here and there, luring her into its depths, waiting for her to discover the new worlds within it.
It's everything she dreamed of when she first decided to become an astronaut.
They're just over the East Coast now, and her breath catches (as it always does) when she takes in the majestic, darkened blue marble beneath her. She loves to watch Earth through the windows, she's quite certain there's no better view in the world.
Her gaze moves up the globe and to the right, where Christmas is in full swing at home. She can't quite make it out, not really, but she can see the big, bright spot of light where her native New York bustles some 250 miles below.
She hasn't been there in a while, and she misses it, especially this time of year; misses the lights and the crisp winter air, the snow and the bagels and the smell of candied almonds in the streets. She misses walking down Fifth with a hot beverage while admiring the lavishly decorated storefronts, lighting a candle at St. Patrick's Cathedral, misses walking just a couple more blocks from there to sit right by the enormous tree at Rockefeller Center...
It's Regina's second time spending Christmas at the International Space Station, and it's a little nostalgic to not be enjoying all the cozy, wonderful things that make up the holiday, but truth be told, she'd sacrifice all of that again for the chance to be up here right now.
Her current roommate, on the other hand, doesn't seem to agree.
Robin Locksley is only the second British astronaut to visit the ISS. She'd done a little digging when Houston told her he was coming up; had reviewed his career and discovered that he'd moved to Florida to work at NASA full-time just two years ago. She'd been a bit confused as to why they hadn't crossed paths at work in all that time, but one closer look at his resume made her realize that due to his impressive accomplishments at the UK Space Agency, he'd been selected to work on very specific NASA projects, most of which are beyond her own security clearance. And well, that explained it.
With such credentials to his name and half the Aeronautics Department fanboying over his trip up here, Regina had been prepared to meet a pompous ass who would do stupid things like flaunt his medals and mansplain physics to her. Instead, she'd been pleasantly surprised by the noble, kind, respectful man he'd turned out to be, and they'd become close almost as soon as his spacecraft had docked onto the station three months ago.
They're friends. Good ones. But the line between friendship and something more has been blurring a lot lately, and she supposes being the only two people in a space station hundreds of miles away from home might have something to do with it, but the magnetism between them is more than that. It feels... good. Feels right.
They flirt. A lot. And there'd been a kiss a few weeks ago, slow and soft and perfect, that had increased her attraction to him tenfold. He hasn't tried to repeat it, but he's taken to kissing her hand goodnight now, a gesture Regina has become addicted to.
But this... thing between them, it's been going on for over a month now, and they have yet to move forward.
She suspects it has a lot to do with his recent, sullen mood.
Not that she can blame him. Robin is every bit the professional, committed as can be to his work and his research, but he is also a devoted single father who is missing Christmas with his son this year, and she knows how much that pains him.
Roland is an adorable little boy, with dimples as charming as his father's and a head of dark, enviable curls. She's seen plenty of photos of the five-year-old, has even dropped in to say hello in a few of Robin's video chats with him, and while she has no children of her own, she knows it can't be easy for Robin to be away from his.
"I don't know what's wrong with me," he'd told her earlier. "I knew I was going to be up here during Christmas, I was prepared for it, but now that it's happening, it just..."
"Sucks," Regina had supplied easily.
"Yes," he'd chuckled humorlessly, sighing as he ran his hand over his face.
"I miss my boy," he'd admitted after a few minutes of silence. "And I miss Christmas, you know? The decorations, the music, the food... it's my favorite time of year, and being trapped here with no access to any of it is... isolating."
"It doesn't have to be," she'd told him, landing a reassuring hand on his and rubbing her thumb over his wrist. He'd held her fingers gently then, brought them up to his lips and kissed her knuckles in that way he always does, looking into her eyes and making her stir in ways she'd thought were impossible in their current environment.
And then he'd cleared his throat, stood up from his chair and left, walking in the opposite direction of the lab even as he excused himself under the pretense of having to "check on some data."
Regina knows exactly where he's gone to, but she won't go after him, not yet.
She does, however, get out of their sleeping quarters, down a few steps and to the right, continuing on her way through several bridges until she reaches Supply Module X.
Last Christmas, Regina had been feeling sorry for herself, for not having the foresight to pack holiday treats in her bonus box. Her then-cohabitor and friend, Captain David Shepherd, had made it his mission to cheer her up with a little holiday magic from Earth. He'd known he'd be spending that December away from his white picket fence house and his pregnant wife in Houston, so he'd managed to sneak a few things from home onto his shuttle on the way up from Cape Canaveral, things that ended up making their time on the ISS much more enjoyable during the festive season.
They'd moved all those things into this particular supply module after the holidays were over, and Regina is glad to find it all in the exact same spot where they'd stashed it, a plastic container partially hidden from view by bigger, more useful boxes (spare parts, extra lab equipment, office supplies, manuals for numerous devices...). She goes to it, forces it out of its confines, and smiles when she peeks inside.
The cheap silver pine is still there, barely a foot tall, with fiber optic lights that likely won't work anymore. There's a long strand of blue tinsel rolled up and placed at the very bottom of the box, a few ornaments nestled into it, waiting to be showcased on the raggedy tree: David's NASA car antenna topper to take the place of the traditional star or angel at the top, a few tiny baubles in green and red, and a couple of mini figurine ornaments depicting R2-D2, Chewbacca and C-3PO.
Regina chuckles as she looks through her findings, remembering how much she and David had laughed as they set up their tacky little Christmas tree and drunkenly sang their favorite carols, all while dining on rehydrated mac and cheese and the travel-size bottle of vodka they'd pillaged from one of the Russian modules.
Balancing the container over one arm, she makes her way to the navigation deck, grinning to herself as she sets the items down on the dashboard and gets to work.
She finds him in the communications module, sulking as he stares at a bubble of water that floats in front of him. His hand is the acting force on the bubble, gently pushing it one way and another, his annoyed huffs the only sound in the room.
"Where is he today?" Regina asks as she enters, giving Robin a kind look as she stands in front of him, close enough that she's able to massage his shoulder in a show of reassurance.
"Disney," he supplies as he pushes the water bubble away from both of them, letting it float slow and aimless around the room. "John and Mum thought it'd be a fun time for him, and if he's well distracted and enjoying himself, then maybe..."
"Maybe he won't miss you too much," Regina finishes, and her heart aches for him.
Robin sighs, and she's surprised when his hands stretch out and settle on her hips. But he's hurting, and she supposes he just needs a little bit of physical comfort at the moment.
She hums an affirmative when he mutters "Thank you for being here, for coming to find me. I'd be tearing my own hair out if it wasn't for you," answers his humorless chuckle with one of her own.
Slowly, tentatively, she lets her fingers thread in his caramel locks as she murmurs, "I'm glad you didn't. I like your hair." She gives him a little tug just to make her point, delighting in the short moan he gives her as his head leans forward, his forehead colliding softly with her stomach. Her NASA flight suit is only up midway, the long sleeves tied around her waist to secure it, and the tip of Robin's nose is touching the tiny bit of skin exposed between the hem of her cropped, white cotton T-shirt and the heavy blue material. It feels... heavenly.
It's a very intimate moment, the kind they've been building up to but never quite reached before, and she basks in it, lets her fingers play with his hair again, her head falling down to land a kiss on the top of his head before she reluctantly pulls away from the embrace, offering her hand to him.
"Come with me," she asks, and he frowns curiously at her, his head tilting to the side just slightly as he does. God, he's cute.
He knows his way around the ISS just as well as Regina does, but he still holds her hand the entire time, letting her guide him through the bridges and hallways, past the supply module, then the service module, the habitation module, and finally, they emerge together on the navigation deck, where planet Earth takes up half of the enormous window panels in front of them.
But the incredible view is not what catches his eye. No, what has him gasping softly is the sight of that tiny, cheap, silver Christmas tree set on the very front of the dashboard, like a festive little hat over their beloved blue globe, a few strands of fiber optic lights still twinkling feebly. He finds the tinsel next, draped over the navigation computer, laughs as he walks closer and spots the Star Wars ornaments when his gaze moves back to the pine.
And then he turns, and he looks at her like she's just given him the moon itself, his voice low as he asks, "Where did you find all this?"
"It's not my first rodeo," Regina replies with a shrug. She won't get into the details of it right now. It's not what's important. Right now, she just wants to make him smile.
The push of a button has a playlist of Christmas carols starting up on the speakers, the chords of Nat King Cole's "The Christmas Song" acting as a low-volume soundtrack to their evening.
"Do you like it?" Regina asks.
Robin scoffs, mutters an incredulous, "Do I like it," under his breath, and then he's drifting towards her, the lack of proper gravity making his advance slower than it should be, alerting her to what comes next.
But when he kisses her, it doesn't matter that she'd seen it coming, because he's warm and solid and perfect as he cradles her face in his hands, meeting her lips with his own.
It burns and soothes her all at once, the way he touches her, the way he takes her bottom lip between both of his and sucks gently. She laughs, because it's amazing, and he manages to crack a smile of his own too, she can feel it as their kiss dissolves, only to begin anew when he leans in again, and again, and again, pecking her lips over and over until he decides to stay, his mouth lingering on hers.
His tongue gives a subtle little lick to the seam of her lips, asking for permission she's all too happy to grant. He's so warm, and determined, and is moving his hands down her sides now, around her lower back and down a bit more.
He waits until Regina moans her approval, and then he's grasping her rear to pull her closer, his mouth a bit more frenzied, kisses a bit sloppier, but no less wonderful because of it. He moans her name when she loops her arms around his neck, brings one of his hands up to thread in her hair, and it's strange (it's amazing), how their environmental conditions make it so that the kiss is fast and slow at once. She's never had an experience quite like it, and she loves it.
But she's not done with her surprise, so she pulls back a bit, enough to signal for him to stop for a moment, and they both breathe heavily while still holding each other, his nose brushing against hers as he lands little kisses on one cheek and then the other.
"My very own Christmas elf," he whispers with a chuckle. "Thank you."
"It's not over," she tells him, smiling as she moves in for another quick kiss and then pulls away. Josh Groban's version of "O Holy Night" is now playing on the speakers, and Regina hums quietly as she heads towards the side table by the dashboard, where her bonus box resides.
Astronauts get to bring a box of treats for every month they spend living inside the ISS. Last year, Regina had been too distracted by the prospect of flying a new spacecraft model to really think about what to bring with her. This time, however, she'd had the foresight to pack some festive goods.
Gingerbread cookies are one of her favorite Christmas foods, and thanks to NASA's incredible food preservation technology, the delicious treats are intact and ready to be devoured.
She's also pulled some turkey pouches out of the service module, along with some mashed potatoes, green beans and chocolate brownies, heated it all in the special oven and served it on the tray that Robin is now looking at.
"You cooked," he teases.
"Don't get used to it," she taunts back, and her comment elicits the first genuine laugh she's heard from him in weeks. She hadn't realized how much she missed it until now.
"I like it when you laugh," she observes. "It's... attractive. You're attractive."
"And you're stunning," he tells her simply. "In every way. I can't believe you did all this for me."
"Ah, and there's more," Regina announces with a flourish as she starts to pull away.
"Wait," he calls, catching her hand and turning her around, and then they're kissing again, with more confidence this time. Regina lets her tongue savor his, sinks her teeth into his upper lip in a soft bite, and smiles into the kiss when he moans, the sound vibrating against her as he kisses her harder, deeper.
She sucks at his bottom lip, whimpers pleasantly when he switches gears and does the same to her, his hands now grabbing her more firmly, hesitating less and less as he pulls her flush against him, and Regina moans his name, pressing even closer when he nibbles on her lower lip, pulls it to him until they're kissing again.
Robin growls, holding her closer, bodies flush against each other, and then they part, their breaths shallow and quick, their hearts racing at the overexertion.
Regina falls into him as she works to stabilize her breathing, a chuckle escaping her as she nestles her head against his shoulder. She reaches for the zipper on his flight suit, lowers it just enough to sneak a hand inside and run it over the soft cotton of his T-shirt, feeling him beneath the fabric.
Sinatra's "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" starts to play, and she and Robin are both standing by the window panels, one of his arms wrapped around her as she perches her joined hands on his shoulder, her head resting there as they look out at Earth. It's easy, and sweet, and wonderful.
"What are you thinking?" she asks, and he breaks the peaceful moment hilariously with his answer.
"The inconveniences of microgravity, if I'm honest," he admits, shifting slightly so he can wink down at her. Regina laughs. Their current low-gravity living environment makes any kind of sexual activity sort of impossible, a fact they're both well aware of, but it's funny to hear him say it out loud like that.
"Stupid outer space," she commiserates with a smile, and he hums in agreement.
"At least we have Christmas," he says then, sounding truly glad when he adds, "Thank you."
"I did mention there was more," Regina reminds, and at Robin's curious Oh? she extricates herself from his arms, walking towards the navigation computer and fiddling with the shiny blue tinsel on it before booting up the machine.
A quick search gives her the coordinates she wants, and she ignores Robin's quizzical look when he moves to stand next to her, answering his "Are we going somewhere?" with a simple Just wait.
The navigation screen is now up, and she types in 28.3852° North, 81.5639° West, and the station rumbles softly beneath them as it shifts the observation probe.
Gently, she guides Robin to it, letting him stand in full view of the state of Florida below while the telescope zeroes in on the coordinates, propping up an image of Magic Kingdom's majestic castle on the screen.
"He's right there somewhere, probably wearing big, light-up Mickey ears and watching fireworks with your mom and your brother. He's having a happy Christmas, Robin, and when you come home in two months, he'll tell you all about it for days, and that will be special in its own way, because you get to hear it all from him."
Her words seem to soothe him, because he exhales in relief, inhales deeply and slowly again as he shifts his gaze from the window to the screen, where Cinderella's castle is awash with light and color, wreaths and garlands laden with ornaments trimming all its edges.
Robin sighs then, turns to her and takes her hand, inviting her to stand there with him. But as she reaches the window, she finds herself entranced by the sight of him rather than that of the planet below.
"Merry Christmas, Regina," he whispers when he catches her looking.
She smiles, and just because she can, she dots a kiss on his cheek, right over his dimple.
"Merry Christmas," she replies.
She loves to watch Earth through the windows, but standing here, mesmerized by the softness of Robin's gaze, the tender warmth of his smile, Regina realizes there is a better view after all.