You are Dr. Fred Benson, D. Sc.

It was a moment, you're mature enough to acknowledge that. You try not to paint images of what would have happened if that alarm hadn't went off, but you like to hold onto the feeling of her cool fingers on your skin and her face so close to yours--your imagination is too fertile to leave it at that. Plus, the colonel's wink opened a flood gate. You feel you've won a battle—one that hadn't really happened--that's just how you feel. By the end of the day, you have a short scenario that so closely resembles MJ kissing Spiderman upside down that you want to see the movie again.

With such a thing playing through your thoughts, you find it awkward to look at her. Not that you are bad with women, but they aren't your forte. You have your single mom to blame for that; she raised you like it was the fifties, everything she taught you in this matter is outdated. An older friend gave you some great tips over the years and, yeah, you learned a great deal on your own, but never will you be smooth and confident—especially when you are really attracted someone.

After an argument with your fellow team members, you are forced to take a break and get some sleep. "Fine, but wake me in an hour." You say grumpily and go to the sleep area. There, you find that she has donned a night mask to block out the lights, and has stretched herself horizontally across all the Velcro strips. You pause, wonder first why she decided to do that, then if you shouldn't just stretch out below her. But you can't, at least not comfortably, she is laying spread eagle; even in her sleep taking as much space in the room as possible, like always.

That was why the thought of her in space was so hard to conceive; but now you see that it is actually easy for someone to be bigger than the world up here--another amazing feat she accomplished without a second thought. You look at her peaceful face for a second and then pull yourself out of it.

Oh man, are you in trouble.

You hesitantly grab her ankles and gently pry them from the wall. You don't realize that you seem to be holding her legs like they are sticky and you wish to keep your hands and clothes clean. She wakes as you move her and peeks from under the mask. Finding that you are the culprit, she smiles and curls into the fetal position so that you can now have your pick of all other Velcro strips. After a beat, you take the very last one and close your eyes. You should have expected her to put her feet right back where you found them like she does.

Playfully tucking them under your arms as if they are a heavy quilt, you find you like the security it gives you, almost as if you were in a real bed again. You snuggle deeper into the scratchy wall and pat her calves. "Sleep tight."