Sol 72 (or 73)
“Darcy? What are you doing here?” Mindy looked fresh as a daisy, three hours into her overnight watch of Mars - and Mark.
Darcy… didn’t. She'd made the mistake of glancing at her reflection in the glassed back entrance to Johnson. Her hair was falling out of its bun, her face shiny, and the bags under her eyes were definitely checked baggage size.
“Couldn’t sleep.” Darcy lingered in the doorway. “Mind if I come and keep you company? I’ve got a stowaway.” She jerked a thumb at Bucky, who was loitering at her shoulder as always.
“Come on in,” Mindy said, brightening at the thought of company. Although whether it was Darcy’s or Bucky’s was anyone’s guess. “Why can't you sleep?”
Darcy shrugged. “Haven't been sleeping much since the news - since both sets of news really. And now - now I can do something…”
Mindy nodded. “Seems fair. Want me to get you set up with some computers? You can go over the latest sat data if you want?”
“Could I?” The thought of seeing Mark, of watching him in real time - or as real time as she could get - was irresistible.
“Wouldn’t have offered if you couldn’t,” Mindy said. “C’mon, pull up a chair. You too, Barnes.” Darcy left her bag by the door and toed off her heels for good measure. If she couldn’t relax around Mindy, with whom she’d gone on coding binges and shared the extra hot Cheetos, she couldn’t relax around anyone. Extra hot Cheetos were sacred.
Five minutes later, and Darcy was leaning back, feet propped next to one of the mainframes, watching the pictures from the latest satellite pass load.
“See that there?” Mindy said, pointing to a spot that Darcy would have assumed was a fleck of white on the lens and a puff of smoke. “That’s Mark - he’s going on another trip, looks like.”
“He’s been making a lot of those,” Darcy murmured, staring at the dot intently. The screen flickered, and the next image pulled up. “Probably joking about being some kind of space buccaneer - he always did want to be the Dread Pirate Roberts.”
“Don’t tell me he tried to call you Princess Buttercup,” Bucky joked.
Darcy snorted. “He tried. Once. I informed him that I was a self-rescuing princess, thank you very much, but if he wanted, he could help carry my fridge the next time I moved.”
Bucky and Mindy laughed. “I can’t wait to meet this guy, doll,” Bucky said over her shoulder.
“Yeah,” Darcy said, willing herself to not think about the insurmountable odds of actually getting Mark home. Instead, she started to think about Bucky and Mark in the same room. “Alternately, how about no. I don’t think any of us would survive.” She glanced at Mindy, who was back at her computer, grinning at the screen. “Hey Mindy, how long do you think it would take before either Mark or Bucky would come up with some crazy idea that would lead to me having to do masses of paperwork for three months?”
Mindy glanced up at Darcy, then looked at Bucky, considering for a few seconds. “Ten minutes? Fifteen?”
Darcy nodded. “Sounds about right.” She returned her attention to Bucky. “So, no, sorry. No meeting the fiancé for you. Planet Earth couldn’t take it.”
Bucky chuckled, and Darcy felt her eyelids begin to slip closed even as she returned her concentration to the screen in front of her.
It wasn’t that she wasn’t tired, because she was.
There was just so much to take care of. She had Watney Watch to take care of, Jane to manage,
ride herd on Tony so he didn’t piss off the entirety of JPL,
take care of Bert and Caroline,
…
find time to eat,
….
…
send memos to Sanders
…
…
…
Darcy fell asleep to pictures of the Red Planet, head lolling gently on her office chair.
“Should I move her?” Bucky whispered to Mindy, not at all minding the excuse to get closer to the scientist.
“She’ll just wake up,” Mindy replied, just as quietly. “Let her sleep. Here - I have some more programming for you to look at - I want to change the satellite paths slightly, but the software’s buggy.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Bucky said, settling back into his chair and watching as a blush swept over the blonde scientist’s cheek.