October 21st, 1991 — Houston, TX
10:30 AM, CST

Shelby leaned over a trash can, hurling the contents of her stomach out after having undergone two hours of antigravity training. They'd spent the morning in the aptly-named "Vomit Comet," a plane that took the future astronauts through a series of rollercoaster-like maneuvers in the sky to simulate a lack of gravity. There was no possible way to completely get rid of gravity on Earth, but the Vomit Comet was as close as NASA had gotten.

In the three weeks they had been in Texas so far for spaceflight training, Shelby had mastered everything except the antigravity training. She'd be damned if the Vomit Comet would be the thing holding her back from the moon. It wasn't for a lack of trying — Shelby was as tenacious as the shuttle she'd be riding in. Where her heart was, and brain wanted to be, her stomach just wasn't there yet.

Adam walked over to her, a bottle of ginger ale in his hands. His face was pale, and his hair disheveled. The redhead wasn't the only one that was having a hard time with the training.

"Here, you look like you could use this," he said kindly, handing her the bottle.

Shelby washed her face in a nearby sink, then took the drink from him. Her hands shook as she uncapped the bottle and raised it to her lips. "Thank you."

"Not exactly what I had in mind," he admitted as he took a seat on the concrete floor.

"It's just one more hurdle on our way to the moon." Shelby remained ever hopeful. She knew she could get through it — she knew every one of them could. "I just," she paused for a moment. "I hate feeling so weak. They already didn't want me on this flight, and I ... I don't want to prove them right."

Adam took a drink from his own soda bottle. "Shelby, you might be the strongest one of us here. Two hours in the Vomit Comet would be enough to unsettle even the toughest of stomachs." He slid his hand over to her's, giving it a quick squeeze. It was the most physical contact they dared to show on NASA property.

"It doesn't make me feel like shit any less, though," she said, leaning her head against the wall.

"Mitchell! Colewell! Let's go!" Dr. Feldstein's booming voice echoed through the hallway, and both of the NASA employees sprang to their feet.

7:45 PM, CST

"Hey, Colewell! Drinks?" One of the other Tenacity astronauts, an Air Force man named Chris Walker, had knocked on Shelby's door just after she'd gotten out of the shower.

"Drinks? Now?" Shelby was dressed in one of Adam's old Cambridge t-shirts and a pair of shorts, and her red curls were still soaked from her shower. She crossed her arms over her chest, hoping Chris wouldn't notice the school on her chest.

Chris was dressed in nice pants and a tie, and Shelby noticed one of the other astronauts behind him. "Yeah, we're all going. Me, Mitchell, Wilson, Dr. Feldstein. Gives us a chance to explore Houston."

The boys had all bonded quickly, over shared locker rooms and bathrooms and showers and hotel rooms, while Shelby had been alone. She'd bonded with the rest of them over group work, sure, but she couldn't help but feeling isolated. NASA could have prevented that by placing another woman on the team (she knew of at least five other women that had applied) but she'd barely gotten on the team herself.

"Oh, sure!" She smiled, glad to be included in a group activity. "I just showered, though, but ... I can meet you in the lobby in ten minutes?"

"That's all the time you need?" Chris raised an eyebrow. "Man, my wife would need at least an hour."

Shelby frowned at his comment, but didn't respond. She flashed a quick smile. "Ten minutes, and I'll be there," she promised before shutting the door and rushing to her suitcase.

She'd packed one nice outfit, in hopes of maybe sneaking off with Adam for dinner. That hadn't happened yet, and with the crew growing as close as they were, she doubted it ever would. The dress would at least come in handy for a night of drinks.

She quickly changed into the black shift dress, then wiped some mascara on her eyelashes and red lipstick on her lips. She clipped a barrette into her damp curls in an attempt to contain them, but they always seemed to have a mind of their own. She switched out of her comfy fuzzy socks for a pair of scrappy heels, then grabbed her purse and a light jacket before heading down to meet the others.

"Wow, Colewell! You look nice." Ethan Wilson, the other military member of the Tenacity crew, let out a low whistle as Shelby made her way into the lobby.

Shelby crossed her arms over her chest defensively, wondering if she was overdressed. The others were all dressed as nice as she was, but men's formalwear wasn't as revealing as that of women.

"Thank you, Wilson," Shelby replied quietly, positioning herself securely between Dr. Feldstein and Adam. "Where are we going?"

"We're headed down the street for some beers," Chris replied. "Oh, Colewell, sorry — do you drink beer?"

Shelby scoffed, a smirk growing on her face. "Yes, I quite enjoy beer. You should have seen me in college." She pulled her jacket on and pointed towards the door. "Well, boys? Are we going?"

They walked to a bar down the street from their hotel. It was warm out, but nothing compared to Florida. Shelby enjoyed the break from humidity.

As they walked in the door, Shelby was taken aback. The bar was something that could only have been described as "honky-tonk."

Cowboys (very attractive ones, Shelby had to admit) clad in cowboy hats, flannel and boots twirled pretty blondes in flowy white dresses around a wooden dance floor, and country music roared through the stereos. Shelby was a New Englander, through and through — country music wasn't necessarily her thing.

"Well, well, well, I don't mind if I do!" Ethan let out a large whoop. He was born and raised in Louisiana, so Shelby supposed that the honky-tonk bar was right up his ally. He headed to the bar, but not before pointing at Shelby. "Save me a square dance, would you, Red?"

"Square dance?" Adam echoed, glancing around the room with a bewildered expression. His British accent stuck out like a sore thumb, and Shelby thought it was adorable.

Shelby grinned, nudging him gently with her elbow. "There's line dancing, too."

Dr. Feldstein let out a laugh before shaking his head. "Well, I'm going to join Colonel Wilson at the bar." He smiled at Shelby and Adam, his eyes twinkling. "Have fun tonight, it might be the last chance we get for a while."

"Hey, Cambridge, you ever seen one of these?" Chris called from across the room, where he'd borrowed a cowboy hat from another bar goer. "It's called a cowboy hat! Don't s'pose they've got these in the UK!"

While they often referred to each other by their last names, there were a few nicknames amongst the crew — it was a NASA thing. Adam was often referred to as "Cambridge", due to being a British national and an alumni of the famous institution. Shelby was, for obvious reasons, "Red Fury", or "Red" for short. Ethan, for his bayou roots, was "Swampy", and Chris, who loved to fish, was "Guppy."

Adam rolled his eyes, a smile taking over his face as he headed towards the other crew member. "My father is actually a big fan of your American western films, so yes, I'm quite familiar with the concept, Guppy."

Shelby trailed behind Adam, eyeing a pool table in the back of the bar. "Could I interest you boys in a game of pool?" She asked, grabbing a stick from the rack on the wall.

"You read my mind, Colewell," Chris replied as he raced to set up the balls.

"Well, Cambridge," Shelby said, shooting a wink at Adam. "Do they have pool in England?"

"Yes, I'm well aware of what billiards is, Colewell." Adam rolled his eyes as he grabbed a stick for himself.

"I'm surprised you know how to play, Red. I thought y'all were too nerdy to have fun up at MIT," Ethan said, coming back from the bar with a round of beers for everyone.

Shelby scoffed and shook her head, grabbing one of the beers from his tray. "Lot of smack talk from someone who's never seen me play pool before, Wilson."

"Is this Johnny Cash? Well now, come on, Red, they're playing our song!" Ethan put his cue stick back on the rack and grabbed Shelby's hand. She quickly handed Chris her stick before letting him pull her out onto the dance floor.

"I didn't know 'Ring of Fire' was our song, Swampy," Shelby said as Ethan offered her his hand. "Are you going to dance with all of the crew members tonight?"

"No, no. Just the ones as pretty as you," he said with a wink.

Shelby pulled away, letting go of his hand. So much for a platonic dance between friends, then. "I'm afraid I'm not much up for dancing tonight, Wilson," she said before retreating back towards Adam and Chris, the much more tolerable option, as Adam was her boyfriend and Chris was happily married.

Adam's eyes locked on Ethan as the latter followed after Shelby. His jaw was clenched, and Shelby had never seen him look so mad. He was usually quite mild-mannered.

"Aww, come on, Red! Not a fan of the Man in Black?" Ethan asked as he returned to the group.

Adam took a step forward, but Shelby gently pushed him aside. There was no sense in him getting into the middle of it, especially when the rest of the crew was not privy to the knowledge that they were together. "Wilson, before you make more of a fool to yourself, you may want to reconsider your actions. Unless, of course, you're planning on hitting on the rest of the crew."

Ethan's smile wavered, and he lowered his head. "Damn, I'm sorry, Colewell. You're right." His face was red, and it was clear he was embarrassed. "Here, I'll make it up to you," he said, his smile returning. "Now, who to start with ..." He began to point to each member of the group. "Guppy, that ass puts Cindy Crawford's to shame; Cambridge, you're the second hottest man at NASA, after myself — that's the damned truth — and Dr. Feldstein," Ethan paused, clapping his hands together. "Can I just say, silver fox!"

Shelby grinned, glad to see that he'd acted respectfully to her rejection. "Thank you for that, Swampy."

He grinned, winking again at the redhead as he took a swig from his beer. "No problem, Red. Thanks for putting me in my place."

They spent a few more hours at the bar, playing pool and telling stories of their college drinking days. Shelby found herself enjoying herself, truly enjoying herself, for the first time since they'd arrived in Texas. She didn't think it was possible, but she was looking forward the the spaceflight even more, with such a crew by her side.

October 21st, 1991 — New York, NY
6:20 PM, EST

"Do you need any more boxes, Tony?" Maria poked her head in her son's room, watching as he packed up his belongings.

"Not right now, Mom, thank you," he replied. "Cass gave me one of her keys, so I think I'm going to head over now and drop some stuff off. She's got a night shift tonight, so, I'll be out of her hair while everything is all unorganized."

Maria walked in and wrapped her arms around her son. "I can't believe this is really happening! You're moving out, you're engaged ... it seems like just yesterday you were headed towards your first day of kindergarten."

"Where I was smarter than all of the other kids, I might add," Tony joked.

"Do you need any help?" Mrs. Stark asked. "Your father and I could help, if needed."

"Thanks, Ma, I think I'll be okay," Tony replied, giving his mother a kiss on the cheek as he passed by her with boxes in his arms. "I'll see you in a bit."

He took the elevator down to the garage, where his trusty old car awaited him next to his father's expensive set of wheels. He'd always hoped to buy something new, but he'd just made a hefty investment on a piece of jewelry, so a new car would have to wait.

Tony loaded the boxes into his backseat, then headed out of the garage and towards Cassandra's apartment down in the East Village. It would be a long drive for Tony each morning to work, but they could look for something closer when the time came.

Tony tapped his fingers along to the AC/DC cassette in his car. He smiled to himself, the traffic of rush hour in New York not even bad enough to put a damper on his good day.

He was working hard, making great money, getting along with both of his parents, and he and Cassandra had been engaged for over a month. What could he say? Life was good.

It took him quite awhile to get from his parents' place to Cassandra's apartment, but he didn't mind. He didn't often drive in the city, so it allowed him a chance to get behind the wheel.

He pulled up to the building, frowning upon seeing that all of the guest spots were full. There were only three for the entire building, which was poor planning to begin with, but it was especially annoying considering he was going to have to carry the boxes.

Tony found a spot that was about a half block away, so he piled the boxes into his arms and carefully maneuvered down the crowded street. New Yorkers weren't kind when it came to sidewalks, so he had to be careful to not bump into anyone, or they would certainly not hesitate to knock them out of his hands.

As he walked through the parking lot to the door that led to the back staircase, he noticed a car in one of the guest spots that had a Bellevue pass behind the mirror, just like Cassandra's. He knew some other nurses lived in her building. He wondered if she'd ever want to leave, if her friends were still going to live there.

He used the spare key she'd given him to get into the building, and then he walked up the two flights of stairs to her apartment.

"Well, at least I won't need to go the gym after this," he joked to himself as he huffed and puffed up the stairs.

The door was unlocked when he got to the apartment, and Cassandra's work shoes were sitting near the door. Tony figured she must have gotten off early.

"Hey, Cass? It's me, I just came by to drop off some boxes," he called out, setting the boxes down on the counter. "Cassandra?" The living room was dark, and the light to her bedroom was off too. He heard the shower running, so he figured she must have been washing up after a long day at the hospital. He leaned towards the door, ready to knock, when he heard a deep voice from the other side.

"Oh, shit, Cassandra—"

"You're so hot, oh my god!"

The second voice was definitely Cassandra's, and the first one was definitely not Tony's.

Tony pushed open the bathroom door, his jaw clenched. "What the hell is going on in here?"

"Tony?" Cassandra's voice called out from behind the shower curtain, and the water stopped abruptly. She pulled the curtain aside, her eyes wide as she peered at him. "What are you doing here?"

"I decided to come drop off some boxes. What are you doing here? You're supposed to be at work!" Tony said.

"I'm sorry, who the hell are you?" The other voice called out, and a dark-haired, muscular man stepped out from behind the curtain, giving Tony a full view.

"I'm Cassandra's fiancé," Tony said, staring at his fiancée in disbelief. "Cass, how could you?"

"This is your fiancé, Cassandra?" The man laughed, and Tony realized he recognized him — he was a doctor at Bellevue. That explained the car in the parking lot.

"Tony, I — I'm so sorry," Cassandra rushed towards him, wrapping a towel around her body.

"Save it." Tony backed away. "This?" He gestured between her and himself. "Is over. Goodbye, Cassandra."

He rushed out of the bathroom, Cassandra's bare feet padding after him. "Tony, please, wait! Please don't leave!"

Tony ignored her as he grabbed his boxes and stormed out the door. "Oh, by the way," he called over the shoulder as Cassandra stood in the doorway, crying. "You can go ahead and keep that ring, by the way! I never really liked it!"

He held it together until he got to his car, where he let his walls come down. Tears flowed from his eyes, and he buried his face into his steering wheel. How could she do this?