Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

October 1971

‘So how’s my team doin’? Excited to get back home?’ said Ed as the crew of Apollo 15 began their three-day journey back to Earth.

‘I dunno. I kinda like it up here…’ Molly muttered, gazing thoughtfully out of the window.

‘That’s good to hear!’ he replied in his strong captain voice, far from the vulnerable one he had dared to show a couple of nights ago. ‘I doubt this is gonna be the last time they send you up here after you’ve given America a large dose of liquid honor, Cobb!’ Molly smiled at the joke and the praise, but wasn’t sure it had much to do with America’s honor. ‘What about you, Sedge?’ Ed continued. ‘Missing Gloria?’

‘Well, I didn’t do what you guys did, but I’ve had a blast. Longest we’ve been apart since we got married though.’

‘Hey…’ said Ed seriously, ‘Your job was just as important as ours while we were down there. We wouldn’t be on our journey back without you keeping the life raft afloat!’

‘Thanks, boss. You excited to see Karen?’ Ed chuckled vaguely, and Molly wondered if he was expecting some marital conflict back on the ground.

‘Knowing Karen, she’ll have inducted both your spouses into the club now. I apologize in advance if she’s freaked them out with her hyper-organization. She’s great really.’ With a pang of concern, Molly wondered how Wayne had fared in suburbia. If he’d been a different sort of person, that would be exactly where he’d have ended up. A respected doctor with a wife and kids in the suburbs. Well, he did have a wife – just not the kind his family would have hoped for.

Her heart sank as she remembered that Thanksgiving was only a few weeks away. For his sake, she didn’t exactly mind going to see his mother every year – and at least it was only once a year – but it was seeing him clam up and change that was difficult. Should she get in touch with her own parents after landing? Their enthusiasm when she became a candidate had been lukewarm at best, although when wasn’t it? She had given up trying to connect with them beyond a surface level years ago. Would having gone to space change anything? Should it? This was exactly the kind of aggravating feelings-shit that being in space for a week had granted her a break from. Time to shift the focus onto someone else’s shit.

‘And your boy?’ she said, directed at Ed. Molly saw him glance at her, as if to silently acknowledge their heart-to-heart. ‘Think he’s gonna be an astronaut like you?’

‘I don’t know… maybe. I’d love that. He just needs to toughen up first. Danny wants to, and they’re best friends so…’

‘Well, Danny’s got two astronaut parents now,’ interrupted Sedge. ‘Are they gonna be fighting over who has the most? Unless Karen decides to give it a go…’

‘Not a chance. She didn’t even like the idea of Molly coming up here…’ Ed stopped himself and shook his head as if there was more to the story. Perhaps Wayne would be able to talk some sense into Karen. ‘You and Gloria planning to have any?’ Ed was employing the same tactic as Molly had – shift the focus back onto someone else.

As she half-listened to Sedge talk about his hopes for the future, she felt she’d never been so glad to not have a kid. Thank fuck for multiple birth control methods and a “whatever we feel like” attitude towards sex. Molly firmly believed only people who really wanted kids should do it, and to his credit, Sedge did sound like one of those people. If only her own parents had followed that principle. They hadn’t been bad parents as such, just…distant. Speaking of people with kids, would Astro-wife ever make it to space? Choosing this profession had the ability to fly Molly away from life’s frustrations, but oddly brought her closer to people who followed life’s expectations much more closely than she ever had.

‘If it’s your thing though, must be nice to know you’ve always got your kid cheering you on…’ she reflected as her bladder called her to begin the now familiar process of peeing in space. She must remember to let Irene know that her invention worked. And Margo…

‘So… how’re things with you-know-who?’ Abe asked tentatively, trying to gauge from Margo’s demeanor whether she was currently open to that line of questioning. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say he’d felt honored to have been chosen as Margo’s first confidant. He knew from experience how nerve-wracking having those early conversations could be. The unfamiliarity of using particular words to describe yourself out loud. The uncertainty about who was trustworthy. Unfortunately, being forward-thinking in other ways wasn’t always a guarantee that homosexuality wouldn’t be a step too far for someone. The fact that Margo had to be so careful about NASA demonstrated that perfectly.

‘Well…’ she began, not quite meeting his eyes. It was the first time he had seen her at the bar in several weeks, and he had been dying to know how things were going. ‘You were right to say I should keep an open mind…’ she continued hesitantly.

‘Oh! You spoke to her about it?’ In truth, he hadn’t expected so much progress in such a short time. Although considering the nature of her day job, he supposed it wasn’t a huge surprise that she had the ability to move even the most insurmountable set of dials at an impressive pace. ‘What did you find out?’ Margo looked as though she was searching for the right answer – a succinct way to summarize her findings – rather than spilling everything out in disjointed parts like most people he knew would do. Especially when it came to this subject.

‘Well… she sees women… very regularly as it turns out…’

‘Yes!’ Abe banged his fist triumphantly on the table, causing Margo to look around nervously. ‘I’ve never even met her, but I just had a feeling, you know?’ Margo gave him a skeptical look. She would learn the knack, in time. ‘So… are you gonna shoot your shot?’ He was surprised to see her blush and cast her eyes downwards. ‘White people’s skin is so funny,’ he reflected as he waited patiently for Margo’s response. He supposed dark skin had to have some social advantages.

‘That ship might have already sailed…’ she said bashfully, grasping her glass of brandy as if she thought it might absorb some of the shockwaves from her confession.

‘You’ve already gone for it?’ Abe was genuinely impressed. ‘From the color of your face I’m going to guess the conversation went well?’

‘Yes... although it might have been a bit more than a conversation…’ Now he was actually shocked. But as he wanted her to feel that it was normal and natural right from the start, he forced himself to respond with maturity.

‘Wow, alright… so how was it?’ She mumbled into her drink, and he thought he saw a hint of a smile. ‘Sorry, I didn’t catch that!’ he laughed, and her smile broke out of its box.

‘If you really must know… it was very, very good…’ she whispered, looking up at him for the first time in minutes. He could tell she wasn’t used to this type of conversation and felt privileged to be trusted to know even one percent of the available details.

‘I’m so proud of you, honey,’ he said gently, although inside he was desperate to know more. He hoped that too would come with time. ‘So, where did you leave it with her?’

‘Well, she’s on the Moon right now, so it’s not really a priority…’

‘You have such a weird life, Margo.’ She rolled her eyes at him, and he trusted their friendship was at the stage where she would know the teasing was entirely affectionate. ‘How are you feeling now about being introduced to some other people? Maybe some new friends…’

‘I’m not sure… maybe too much of a risk right now. I care about my job and I want to keep it.’ Abe had never met anyone so sure of their purpose.

‘Sounds like you want to do more than keep it. More like be the boss of it…’

‘I’m going to get us to Mars. Beyond, if I can,’ she replied simply, as if that was a normal goal to have. ‘I’m just… starting to think that perhaps it would help my focus to… enjoy myself occasionally too,’ she finished with a tentative smile, raising her glass as if to toast to the idea.

‘Nothing like a good screw to focus the mind!’ He met her glass with his own with a clink and she looked around, scandalized, but he could tell she was enjoying herself. ‘I wonder though… if it would help you to find out a bit more about the community that’s available to you… even if you observe from the background for now.’

‘How would I do that?’ she replied, sounding like she was expecting a detailed step-by-step briefing for a new type of assignment.

‘You could take a trip to Austin. They’ve got a couple of good bookstores…’

‘How will that help?’ she said skeptically. He could see he had his work cut out with this one.

‘Gay bookstores, Margo. Well, they don’t advertise themselves as that, but hippy or alternative bookstores sometimes have extra material in the back they can offer you if you know how to ask…’

‘How do I ask? And what extra material?’ He smiled fondly. Step-by-step it was, then.

‘Oh, you know… like stories about people like us and how we live. Our joys, our connections, our political struggles…’ He paused as he searched for a way to express the next part without scaring her off. ‘Or… pictures of some of the things we do together…’ Through her skepticism, he saw her eyes widen with poorly concealed interest. On reflection, she had just told him she’d already been to bed with a woman, so perhaps that was actually the most accessible part of what he’d described.

‘So… like a research trip?’

‘Yes, Margo, like a research trip. If that helps you get it,’ he teased, eliciting an enjoyable eyebrow raise from the other side of the table.

‘I do feel like I need to… do something about it… it’s hard to explain…’ Abe could hazard an educated guess at what she was getting at.

‘When people first come out, they often have a kind of… electrical surge… like they need somewhere to put all the built-up energy they haven’t been expressing.’

‘I guess that makes sense scientifically…’ Abe fought down a chuckle, instead gazing at her with a fond smile – this woman was like no one else, and he knew a lot of people. To his surprise, she didn’t argue against his suggestion. ‘They did say they wanted to try us on the red-eye shift tomorrow… I wasn’t going to listen because it’s crazy to make that kind of change during an active mission, but…’

‘It’s one day, Margo. Take the opportunity to do something different for a few hours. It’ll be good for you.’

Armed with a short list of bookstores to try out, Margo got into her car and set off for Austin. Now that she thought about it, she realized she had only been there once. A short visit in ’66, when she’d first moved to Texas. And then NASA had taken over and she had barely left Houston since, except occasional drives to Huntsville. And Austin was a lot closer than Huntsville, so a day trip it was.

She stopped at the intersection where she would usually make a right to go to NASA, and for a moment she hesitated, considering forgetting all about Austin. If they were serious about her not going to mission control until later that night, she could just shut herself in her office until it was time. The return of Apollo 15 was only days away, and the re-entry equations could use another review…

Margo sat up tall in the driver’s seat, indicated left, and turned on the radio. Abe’d had a point – if she wasn’t going to open herself up to new people, she needed to do something. The adrenaline from the encounters with Molly was still coursing through her, causing an odd kind of… momentum that she couldn’t fully explain. A drive towards curiosity. This made sense to her. That she would respond by gathering information and hopefully synthesizing it into knowledge. She was never one to pass up an opportunity for discovery.

Always a risk assessor too, she had also brought along a winter hat and sunglasses. Thankfully, the bright, crisp October day meant it wouldn’t look too odd if she decided to wear them both at the same time. Abe had said the people who ran the stores would be discreet, but she wanted to be smart about it. There weren’t many red-haired women in their late twenties who were going to run NASA one day. She wouldn’t be recognizable now, but in future… who knew what people would remember?

‘You came into town

With your big ideas…’

As she approached the city, the radio began to play an artist she hadn’t heard before. A deep, soulful female voice with acoustic backing, and if Margo’s good ear wasn’t mistaken, an English accent. She had always wanted to visit London – the home of so much scientific and musical innovation. Usually, lyrics were the last thing she noticed about good music, especially given that her favourite genre didn’t always have many. But in this instance, she found the words were oddly appropriate for the occasion.

‘So settle down

City girl

Make life what it should be

Lots of laughs

All you want

That’s how it oughta be

But don’t take my word

Just sit back and you’ll see…’

Margo was still absorbing the song’s message when she pulled up in the Warehouse district. It had moved her in ways she didn’t yet fully understand. ‘Why am I so slow with this stuff?’ she asked herself as she pulled the keys out of the ignition. ‘Not the moment for that question,’ she decided, knowing there was a risk she would overthink herself into turning straight back around. She quickly tied her hair back, donned the hat and sunglasses, and abruptly got out of the car.

Map and directions in hand, it didn’t take her long to find the first location. She remembered navigating the NASA maze with relative ease early on in her career – you just had to be methodical about it. Still on logical autopilot, she grasped the door handle and entered the store as she would any other. When she took in the scene, however, she found she was overwhelmed. The room was far busier than was comfortable, with people chatting animatedly in pairs or small groups, and a line was forming at the register. Margo turned on her heel and walked straight back outside. She immediately regretted doing so, but then reasoned that if she went back in again, she might draw attention to herself.

‘I’ll go to the next one and then maybe come back later…’ she thought, trying to keep her steel and composure as she continued walking, her old sneakers a welcome break from the usual heeled work shoes. Approaching the second store, she peered through the window and saw it was empty except for two people behind the counter. On second thoughts, perhaps a busy store would actually be more anonymous. ‘No, stop being ridiculous. You’re going in,’ she chided herself. She made sure her hair was tucked inside her hat and grasped the door handle firmly. 

Once inside, Margo gave a cursory nod to the owners and began to make her way around, telling herself it was just like any other bookstore. What was she even looking for? Surveying the shelves in front of her, nothing appeared out of the ordinary. Was she in the wrong place? Should she just ask for what they had “in the back” as Abe had suggested? Her stomach swooped at the thought – what if they didn’t know what she meant? Briefly tempted to forget the whole thing and start exploring the mathematics or music section, her attention was caught by a sign that read Social Studies. That sounded like a good place to start.

Margo ran her hand over a row of feminist spines, grounding herself in the familiar scent of books and the exhilarating promise of knowledge. She picked out titles one-by-one and read the descriptions thoughtfully, hoping that she would simply appear to be a modern woman who wanted some encouragement from like-minded academics. Semi-reluctantly, she had to admit to herself that this wasn’t really why she was there. But suddenly spotting the words Lesbo Wife out of the corner of her eye jolted her task back into focus, and she forced herself to look upwards instead. Had she imagined those words?

A selection of short books lay on the shelf just above Margo’s head. She experienced another swoop of the stomach as she absorbed the strange and intriguing titles. Queer Patterns… The Story of a Strange Love… The Needs We Share… all with cover designs involving two women in mysterious, seductive poses. Yes, she really had seen the words Lesbo Wife, and the publication in question depicted characters with lowcut dresses, leaving little to the imagination. Despite the unappealing facial expressions and odd arrangement of limbs, Margo felt her body react to the breasts, almost entirely on show apart from the nipples. This was becoming a pattern. She had just plucked up the courage to pick up one called Do the job he left behind, which stood out to her due to the redhead on the cover, when she heard a gentle voice from beside her.

‘Can I help you look for anything?’

‘No, thank you,’ said Margo reflexively, heart beating wildly, clutching the book tightly. ‘I mean, yes. I mean…’

‘It’s alright,’ said the woman with a smile. ‘Those can be kinda hit and miss,’ she continued, indicating the collection Margo had been perusing. ‘First time I picked one up I couldn’t decide whether I actually wanted to read it.’

‘Yeah, I… I haven’t um… read one before…’ stumbled Margo awkwardly, nervously moving it in her hands. She could tell the paper was poor quality, and suddenly became aware of not wanting to look like she was about to damage it. The woman didn’t seem to mind though. Margo judged her to be in her late forties, with a kind face and calm demeanor, but her face had a weariness to it too.

‘If it’s those you’re interested in, I might have something better in the back for you…’ It felt as though her piercing brown eyes were looking straight into Margo’s soul. Not that Margo believed in souls. But hearing the words “in the back” was a strange sort of relief. She had been saved from having to say the words herself.

‘Alright. Should I uh… wait here?’

‘Come with me if you want. More privacy that way.’ The woman smiled warmly, and Margo decided to follow. She had come all that way, after all. ‘You alright out here while I help this customer?’ the woman called to her co-worker at the front of the store.

‘So, you trying to find out about yourself?’ she asked over her shoulder once she had offered Margo a seat across from several shelves of catalogued boxes.

‘How did you know?’ asked Margo quietly, watching her root through the boxes at a surprisingly efficient speed.

‘I’ve worked here long enough to know it when I see it. The body language, the determination mixed with apprehension. The hat and sunglasses. Which you’re welcome to keep on, by the way. I get it.’ Margo smiled gratefully and her next breath was steadier than the last. ‘Even if you run for President, I’ll dutifully vote for you and act like I never met you,’ she finished with a wink.

‘Thank you. My friend… he told me you might have something useful…’

‘I hope so. There’s been more published for the men, so he’ll have had more to choose from, but there are options…’

‘Even with this, men get more?’ Margo asked indignantly, briefly forgetting to be shy. The woman nodded and pulled a face.

‘Yeah. Well, more attention paid to them. That can definitely be a bad thing, but at least people realize it’s real, even if they look down on it.’ Margo frowned – it was a lot to take in. ‘There’s been a split here in Austin – only a couple of months ago actually. Gay Women’s Liberation was formed in June. Too many of the men had traditional anti-feminist views,’ she finished, rolling her eyes. Margo just nodded, not feeling she had the presence of mind to engage with that right then. Thankfully, the woman was ready to present her findings.

‘Right, so there’s several editions of Come Out there – that’s from New York. Two editions of Lavender Vision out of Massachusetts – that one’s just about women, which is nice. A few of Lesbos Review and My Girl, although you might find those aren’t to your tastes. I won’t make assumptions though. And Seize is similar but I personally think it’s more authentic.’

‘What do you mean by “authentic”?’ Margo wanted to know.

‘Let’s just say… the last few titles I mentioned there are more about the… physical side of things… and there are different approaches to depicting that. You might find you like certain approaches more than others. Come Out and Lavender Vision are more political or community-based… raising issues, people talking about their lives… describing how they feel… that sort of thing.’

‘Thank you,’ said Margo seriously, taking a first cursory glance over the publication covers through her sunglasses. She was suddenly acutely aware of their weight on her face. ‘Thank you for taking the time to find these for me.’ She didn’t know what she thought about what was in front of her, but expressing appreciation was something she could more easily reach for.

‘No problem, honey. We gotta look after our own. I’ll throw in a couple of the pulps out there if you’d like?’ Margo assumed she meant the short books out in the main store, and realized she was still holding one in her right fist. ‘I can point out the ones that have the least tragic endings… or better yet, I can rip out the endings completely… damn things…’

‘Why do they all have tragic endings?’ This really was an educational trip. The woman sighed and smiled sadly, as though she was weary of a world that required her to explain this.

‘It’s the only way they can get published. If women like us are shown to have… let’s say consequences for being how we are. Or at least see the error of our ways and end up married with kids after all.’ Margo nodded, thinking back to her FDO interview – it had felt like women couldn’t win whether they had kids or not.

‘What’s the one you’re holding?’ the woman continued, peering across the table. ‘You see? The violent story of a woman’s sexual revolt… the subheading already suggests it’s not going to end well, and that’s before you’ve even opened the book.’ Margo agreed – she had been under the impression that the point of romances was to help the reader escape from life’s harsh realities, and look forward to a happy ending. ‘This is why it’s important to have a range of things to look through – especially as we’re not in the fifties anymore when these were pretty much all you could get.’

Feeling like she at least now had something to work from, Margo rose from the chair to indicate that she didn’t want to outstay her welcome. When they emerged from the back room, the second woman called over.

‘Hey, come and see – the astronaut is on TV! Can you believe she did it?’ Surely it wasn’t the astronaut, Margo thought in a panic, trying to busy herself looking for money in her purse.

‘Amazing. She’s quite something, isn’t she?’ replied the first woman, directing her question to Margo. Reluctantly, Margo glanced at the screen above the counter and to her dismay they were indeed talking about Molly. But of course they were. Finding water on the Moon was the biggest news story in months. It still didn’t make the situation feel any less strange or stressful.

‘Yeah, it’s a great discovery…’ she said lamely. How could she not have considered what she’d say if NASA came up in conversation?

‘A fantastic woman, too…’ said the second woman dreamily. ‘I’d let her search for water in my crater any day…’ Margo’s abdomen swelled with a mixture of horror and an annoyingly familiar feeling that surely couldn’t be arousal. This was getting too close for comfort. She reached for her purse and quickly completed the transaction.

‘It was nice to meet you, honey,’ said the first woman. ‘I’m Amelia, by the way. And this is my partner, Amanda.’ Margo felt a little silly for not realizing they were… together. She saw them glance at each other and observed the affection on both faces. They also had noticeably similar names, and she wondered vaguely if that got confusing.

‘Thank you for your help,’ she replied sincerely as Amelia handed over a bag. She was sure once she’d left the store, they would discuss what an odd customer she was, and felt an odd mix of relief and regret that she had met them wearing what was essentially a disguise.

Once she was outside on the sidewalk, treasured purchases firmly in hand, she closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. Despite having to swerve the curveball of sudden discussion of Molly, she had successfully completed the task Abe had assigned her – come away with something to read about women being together, and don’t make yourself recognizable in the process. Although really the last part was her own addition.

Time to drive back to Houston. Her stomach rumbled, and she acknowledged that if she were more of a normal person, she would have stopped to eat something when she first arrived. Perhaps she could find a drive-thru – after that ordeal, only a burger would suffice.

‘Molly… I’ve been thinking…’ said Ed carefully as they made their way through the airbase, sounding like he’d been waiting until Sedge was out of earshot. They’d not long splashed down in the Pacific, and now they’d landed on Hawaii, their crewmate was up first for medical checks given that he’d been the one to throw up all over the controls on the way down. ‘Will you arrange it so I can talk to Patty’s girl? I spent all that time talking to her father, and there was someone else I should’ve been talking to…’ Molly had been expecting him to check on her welfare after her first reentry or engage her in discussion about the efficacy of the parachutes – although really he didn’t need her on her own for that.

‘I dunno about that. Like I said, she’ll have reasons for not wanting the attention…’ The very least she could do for Patty was to help take care of Viv. Although, she reasoned, Ed was trying to do the same. He could be arrogant, but overall she decided she’d misjudged him at first. A certain amount of brashness was necessary for the job.

‘It could be on the phone, so she doesn’t have to show her face. I don’t even need to know her name if it helps her feel more comfortable. I just want to make it right.’ Molly thoroughly understood this need. And if she was honest, being willing to step up and do the right thing was one of the ways into her good books. Patty had been the same.

‘I’ll see what I can do,’ she said simply, giving him a small, sincere smile as they took the brief opportunity to sit side-by-side on a real chair for the first time in what felt like weeks. Molly felt a little unsteady on her feet – like each step was too heavy, pressing unnecessarily hard into the ground. And that was after only ten days. What would it be like if she ever went up for longer?

‘Good. I’ll send you next for medical,’ Ed continued at a normal volume as two airbase officials bustled past, as if they’d been talking about the splashdown the whole time. Watching the figures walk away, Molly decided to take the opportunity to make doubly sure she and Ed were on the same page.

‘Ed… you really need to keep what I told you up there to yourself. You sure you can do that?’ He stared straight ahead, and the pause before he spoke suggested he was pondering how to say a lot without saying much at all.

‘I got you, Molly. You can trust me.’ In that moment, Molly knew she’d never need to ask again.

Having put off engaging with her new materials for a couple of days – one step at a time, right? – Margo was wide awake at the apartment and decided it was time to sit down and read. For perhaps the first time ever, she set herself up in bed with a morning coffee, fanned her collection out on top of the comforter, and chose a publication at random. Well, not entirely at random, as she definitely wanted to start with the ones that focused more on words than pictures.

Lavender Vision: issue 2 was charmingly decorated, with hand-drawn faces, symbols, and even a cat. Margo attempted to absorb as many of the handwritten adverts for services and events as she could, impressed at how many there were, before reaching the main introduction page.

We are lesbians.

We are women who sleep with each other. We are women who have loved each other all our lives and have been put in mental hospitals and jails because of it. We are a community that creates our own way of making love, our own way of fighting, our own way of making a revolution that is not just on walls and in leaflets but in our daily lives…

We are against sexism in all forms. Every day we face sexism when we walk the streets hand in hand. We face it when we go to our bars which really belong to the Mafia and are gawked at by men who come to let out all their perverted fantasies about screwing us. Lesbianism brings out all of the perverted hatred and anger that men have towards women. It is the biggest threat to masculine domination there is…

Although some of the stronger assertions would need further consideration – the Mafia? – Margo felt heartened and emboldened by the clear declarations that such women existed and should be able to do so without fear of harm. The connection to sexism also made sense to her, and she was interested to think further about the links between the two. Best of all, she was observing a vibrant pattern of the desire to create one’s own way of doing things, and innovate for the good of everyone.

Moving on, she smiled at photographs of women forming genuine friendships, earnest descriptions of how they came to understand themselves as gay, and a wide variety of experiences when it came to letting other people know how they felt. She was particularly struck by a page signed A. Dyke, the end of her account resonating through Margo like a perfectly balanced equation.

But even though being gay has been very painful at times, mostly it’s been the best time of my life. I’ve had some beautiful times with women, both in and out of bed. I’ve danced and sung more than ever before. I have more friends than I ever did and I feel like we’re building a strong community here and with other gay women across the country…

No one should have to be afraid of being gay. Me and a lot of my sisters and brothers aren’t scared any more. We’re out of our closets. We’re gay and we feel good about it. Join us.

There was something about her words that reminded Margo of the song that had come on the radio on her way to Austin. Being brave enough to connect with others who see things the way you do. Taking time to relax and experience joy – and if it’s not readily available, creating it for yourself. Not being afraid to show your true self for fear of how people might treat you. These were all things – especially the last one given the hugely important factor of NASA – that felt more out of reach than she would like. But she was proud of how far she had come.

Time to move onto the more physical part of her research. She remembered what – Amelia, was it? Or Amanda? – had said about Lesbos Review and My Girl, and it didn’t take her long to agree with her. Margo frequently found herself rotating them ninety or one-hundred-eighty degrees, which didn’t do much to clarify what was supposed to be appealing about most of the pictures. Sure, the women were dressed to provoke a reaction, but as much as she tried, she just didn’t find it erotic. It was as if the photographers and publishers had had a different audience in mind right from the start. The women in the pictures looked like they had been asked to perform as someone else for the day. Were they even attracted to each other?

On picking up Seize, however, she could see the difference straight away. Whilst it also depicted naked women enjoying themselves and each other, the photographs were shot in a way that made the subjects look more… human somehow. It made sexual attraction feel more beautiful and less seedy. More like Margo was enjoying people’s pleasure with them, rather than being expected to leer at them as if they were window dressing.

Margo found herself intrigued by a series of black and white photos of two women lying on a windy beach, the legs of one wrapped closely around the other. This provided an intriguing view of her backside, which was shapely in a way that suggested the physical fitness of its owner. The woman also had short hair, which revealed the shape of her neck in a way one didn’t usually get to see. They also looked like they might know each other – there appeared to be some kind of authentic connection between them, whether they were in love or not.

Margo then took a small break to heat up the half-forgotten burger she had purchased on her way home the previous night. Visiting the drive-thru on the way back from Austin had reminded her how much she enjoyed them. An odd breakfast, perhaps, but at least she was having breakfast. Absentmindedly, she continued flicking through Seize, smiling with her mouth full as she observed pages of soft skin, strong arms, and breasts set against surroundings that didn’t immediately make her feel guilty for looking.

Then she stopped in her tracks as she came upon an image of one woman’s head in between the other’s legs, her tongue buried deep in the folds of the other woman’s vulva. Margo’s eyes widened as her conception of what could be sexually enjoyable expanded, and her curiosity and arousal were piqued. Mouth still full, a small amount of ketchup dripped its way unnoticed down her chin as she continued to gaze intensely at the page.

As Molly leant against the window ledge, attempting to look natural as she assisted with Wayne’s latest artistic endeavor, her mind wandered to her arrival back in mission control. She had lagged behind the guys, not entirely comfortable with the hero’s welcome they were greeted with. She remembered looking around the room, reluctantly taking in the enthusiasm of her colleagues as they all scrambled to be the first to congratulate her on finding water.

Admittedly, her eyes had instinctively sought out one person in particular. One of the only people who wasn’t running to shake Molly’s hand. In fact, Margo had stayed sitting at her console, although she had turned in her seat and was watching them file in – a quiet, tentative pride settling on her face. As soon as Molly realized they were beginning to make prolonged eye contact, she had hastily reversed the trajectory and reluctantly followed the guys towards Thomas Paine and the press contingent.

Part of her had wanted to bound over to Margo and excitedly regale her with stories of her time in space. Let her know that vomiting in a spacecraft was indeed a real concern. Tease her by claiming to have always known she was going to get up there and find water. But what would be the consequences of doing so – for the outside view of their fraught relationship, and the inside view for that matter?

Back in the present, Wayne was intermittently asking Molly questions as she watched him move his left hand back and forth, up and down over his canvas. He’d clearly needed a huge amount of distraction over the past couple of weeks, as he had migrated to drawing and painting nudes. He had excitedly shown her the sketches he’d done from memory, and she had volunteered to be his first real-life model.

‘So, how come you didn’t need to quarantine after you landed?’ It seemed to help him to attempt to understand the technicalities, although Molly didn’t think she was very good at explaining them.

‘Apollo 14 confirmed that there aren’t any microorganisms on the Moon, so the white coats decided quarantining us would be overcautious.’

‘Ah, so no Moon cooties.’ He nodded sagely, and she smiled at his silly sense of humor. ‘Mooties,’ he added quietly, mostly to himself. Molly shook her head fondly. She imagined Margo hearing the word “mooties” and decided that making that happen should be a new goal. An odd mix of hope and trepidation swelled up inside her at the thought that this would mean spending more time with her supposed adversary.

‘Can I come and see what you’ve done so far?’ she asked impulsively, curious about how her artistically rendered self was turning out.

‘Sure. But I think, um…’ She frowned curiously at his hesitation as she approached from behind, then smiled at the familiar sight of tubes for colors he wasn’t even using strewn around him. ‘I think this activity has… woken me up…’ he finished, glancing down at his lap.

‘What do you… oh!’ It didn’t take Molly long to understand what he meant. Clearly painting naked people wasn’t only useful as an enrichment activity. She hadn’t been intending to push the subject, but truthfully she had missed connecting with him in that way. ‘Do you… want to see how it would feel with my hand? Or would you prefer to start with yours?’ she asked with a grin as she slid her hands under his paint-covered sweater, glad that he was beginning to relax now she was safely back on the ground.

‘So, after you told him… did you… you know?’ Molly said devilishly, comically waggling her eyebrows across the pillows. Joining her in bed after a blissful drive home, Wayne had just filled her in on his visit to Isiah, during which they had openly discussed their feelings for each other for the first time. He couldn’t have been happier with how it had gone, and neither it seemed could Molly, who predictably was already rushing him.

She never did that with their own relationship; only where others were concerned. He deeply appreciated how patient she’d been with him while he worked towards being able to relax enough for physical intimacy again. Some projection of her own modes of operation was definitely involved in that disparity – she hadn’t mentioned Margo at all since she got back from the Moon.

‘No, Molly, we didn’t. We just cuddled and talked about the future,’ he replied, smiling contentedly as he thought about listening to the rhythm of Isiah’s breathing and the sound of his heartbeat.

‘That’s awesome, babe, really,’ Molly acknowledged. ‘I’m just thrilled for you to be getting back out there again, you know? And he’s a great guy, who I’m sure is excited to have some fun after the year he’s had…’ Life could be tough for a black gay man in America, and Isiah was no exception, having found it difficult to find safe and reliable work. Wayne was hoping that before long he’d be in a position to help him out when he needed it.

‘I’ve still got some anxiety about that whole area… it’s been a while since I was with anyone except you, and all this Moon anxiety hasn’t exactly helped me get in the zone…’ He trailed off as his brain produced a new portmanteau. ‘Moon-ziety…’ he said absentmindedly, feeling something in his head click satisfyingly into place.

‘You can practice more with me…’ Molly said, apparently deciding not to react to his growing collection of new Moon-related terms. ‘Get your confidence back, especially with thrusting movements,’ she added with a wink.

‘I don’t even know if he enjoys that. And I don’t want you to feel like I’m using you…’

‘You wouldn’t be,’ she said simply, as if it was obvious. ‘How’s your back at the moment?’

‘Probably okay enough to try being on top, if that’s what you’re thinking?’ The sciatica down his right side went through different phases, and despite the tension that had been present in his body lately, he hadn’t had a flare-up in a while.

‘We can put a pillow under me,’ she said, moving one out from under her head. ‘Take it at your pace and let go when you’re ready.’ After a series of slow, loving touches with hands and mouths, Wayne reached for the bedside drawer and pulled out a condom. He would have to be aware of not passing anything to her now that he was going to be sleeping with someone else again.

Sliding into familiar warmth, he was beginning to feel like he could finally relax again. Although for how long, he wasn’t sure.

At the end of Molly’s first week back at NASA, she found herself at a loose end having finished the latest round of tests determining the effect space had had on her body. Before launch, it had become obvious what she would be doing most nights after prep was done. Going to see if Margo wanted to fuck again. But things were different now.

Or were they? There had been several moments during Molly’s very busy week when their paths had crossed and Margo had appeared to startle at the sight of her. Her surprise would then settle into brief but meaningful eye contact before she bustled away to complete the next task. It was as if they were silently searching for and avoiding the answer to the question, ‘Are we going to do it again?’ They hadn’t even said a proper “hello” since Molly’s return – as if doing so would be somehow presumptive.

Ultimately, remembering how fucking hot she was helped make Molly’s decision easy, and she found herself turning down the corridor that would lead her to Margo’s tiny office. It was only 1900 hours, surely far too early for Margo to be ready to do anything but math. But what if Molly just took a little risk? After all, if Margo wasn’t up for it – either that night or in general – no harm done. Quite the opposite in fact – getting on the same page at work, or at least the same book, was an improvement in itself.

Wayne had been so brave with Isiah, but it wasn’t exactly a surprise that he was good at identifying his feelings and clearly communicating them. She was absolutely not about to burst into Margo’s office for a similar conversation, but why not choose to continue something that was fun and felt good?

Certain only of her next move, Molly knocked on the door.

Chapter Text

‘You sure you haven’t done this before?’ said Molly dazedly, leaning back against Margo’s pillows like she was reabsorbing oxygen after an EVA.

‘Did I do it right?’ Margo asked seriously as she surfaced, pleasurably addled, from between Molly’s thighs. She propped herself up on an elbow and frowned. Molly laughed and shook her head, and for a terrible moment Margo thought she had misread the noises she had been making.

‘Yeah, it was great…’ Margo breathed a subtle sigh of relief. ‘It’s difficult to do it wrong… unless you’ve got, like, a sharp tongue… which, on reflection, I guess you do…’ Molly added, breaking through her dazed state to laugh at her own joke.

‘I’ve been doing some reading while you were away,’ Margo confessed with a blush, choosing to ignore Molly’s attempt at riling her up. She had to admit; despite feeling a little claustrophobic, reality had matched expectations. Feeling soft wetness under her tongue, the swell of an aroused clit as she ran her tongue over it again and again…

‘Of course you have,’ Molly laughed. ‘Trust you to start studying the science of pussy eating while I’m on the damn Moon!’

‘Well, how else am I supposed to get good at it? It’s not like there are classes!’ Margo shot back, bristling at the blunt term Molly had just used. She didn’t see the similarity with eating. Unless it was something like ice cream, she supposed. But even then… Margo was then pulled out of her analysis by the fact that, predictably, Molly had an answer for her rhetorical question.

‘Instinct, usually. Which surprisingly, you seem to have a lot of.’ Margo rolled her eyes at the backhanded compliment. ‘Plus plenty of practice,’ Molly said with her eyebrows. Did she mean with her or in general? Before Margo could decide, Molly had moved onto the next task. ‘So, what do you say I return the favor?’ she said, turning on her side to face Margo and stroking a hand down her chest to find a nipple.

‘Oh, I’m good,’ Margo said quickly. ‘I’ve got my period right now...’ she explained, gesturing to her still-covered bottom half. Molly certainly wasn’t part-dressed, Margo reflected as she caught her eyes roving.

‘I get that,’ said Molly with a shrug, removing her hand and leaving Margo admittedly disappointed at the loss of contact. ‘For future though, I’m cool with it. It’s natural.’ Margo startled at the word “future”. Did Molly mean to say that? ‘And some people get hornier during that time too, which is fun,’ Molly continued with a mischievous smile. ‘Especially with lesbians and it’s two of you.’ The ease with which Molly said the word sparked Margo’s curiosity about how it would feel in her own mouth. She turned onto her back and stared at the ceiling, suddenly uncomfortable with eye contact.

‘I think that’s what I am,’ Margo let out slowly after a few moments. ‘Lesbian, I mean.’ Molly didn’t miss a beat.

‘I must be damn good if you’ve come to that conclusion after, what, a month?’ Her humor – despite being infuriating – helped Margo to tentatively relax into the conversation.

‘It’s not just about you,’ Margo responded, appraising the ceiling with one of her looks. ‘It just… makes sense to me.’ There was a lot more she could say, but that would involve expressing unresolved feelings from her past that she wasn’t ready for, as well as revealing more of her side of the “story” as to how they’d reached this point. And she preferred to project an air of simplicity and confidence.

‘Alright, cool,’ said Molly simply, as if in that moment – even for Molly Cobb – something else was more important than messing around. Margo felt Molly turn to lie on her back beside her. ‘I call myself a lesbian too, but it’s not totally the same as how you mean it. Patty was like you though…’

‘As in, only women?’ Margo felt an odd sort of comfort at the idea that someone she knew – even if that person was now deceased – felt the same as she did.

‘Yeah. Wayne calls himself bisexual and I guess I must be too… but he’s a lot more that way than I am.’ Margo paused to consider this, and was reminded of an article in one of her publications that discussed the differences in how people felt and behaved. It had sounded like there were disagreements about what was best, which Margo didn’t see the point of.

‘I read about that…’ she said, envisioning the pages spread out on the ceiling above her. ‘Some people are equally drawn to both sexes… and for others, they have a preference but it’s not absolute…’ She knew she must sound like she was reading from a manual.

‘Yeah – Wayne aside, I’ve met a few guys that are nice enough, but they don’t turn my head in the same way.’ Margo was tempted to turn her head towards Molly but couldn’t bring herself to tear her eyes away from the ceiling. Perhaps Molly was also unsure about the personal turn the conversation had taken, then giving a concise summary that suggested she wanted to move on. ‘Anyway – Wayne is Wayne. And I really like women. A lot.’

‘I did get that impression, Molly. I know I’m not exactly the first,’ Margo answered with a twitch at the corner of her mouth, slipping easily back into mockery.

‘Are you good with that?’ Margo was surprised at the question, so much so that she actually did turn her head this time. Molly looked as though she’d also surprised herself, so Margo answered quickly to spare them both from having to deal with whatever that implied.

‘Yes, of course. Are you… uh… good with the fact that you are the first?’

‘Yeah, sure,’ said Molly with a shrug, then distracting herself by sweeping her eyes along Margo’s body. ‘Does that setup work well enough for you?’ she said suddenly, indicating Margo’s sanitary belt and underwear arrangement. ‘You know there are more practical solutions available now? Especially when you’re sleeping in your office like a mad woman…’

‘Yeah, I’ve got my system,’ Margo said, only half-convincing herself. Molly looked as though she regretted asking a personal question, and quickly redirected the conversation. Privately, Margo was interested to hear more about the new practical solutions.

‘Do you ever touch yourself during your period?’ It was curious to note what Molly considered a non-personal conversation. Margo found she didn’t mind though.

‘Yeah. Helps ease the cramps. But occasionally makes them worse for a little while…’

‘That’s the worst,’ agreed Molly. ‘If you want, you could show me how much you enjoyed your research while I take care of these…’ Molly said, eyeing Margo’s breasts with a grin.

‘You want to watch me do it?’ said Margo in surprise. Although, if she thought about it the other way around, she could see the appeal.

‘Yeah, I want to see it,’ said Molly in a low voice, kissing down her neck, which Margo realized – privately, of course – she had missed. ‘Tell me what turned you on…’ Molly muttered into her ear. Margo’s mind raced to find a compelling answer.

‘Well… I did see something that might explain your invention…’ said Margo in a low but teasing voice as she slid a hand into her own underwear. Molly laughed, which reminded Margo that she had missed that too.

‘So, you’ve learned about strap-ons. Interesting…’ Molly said slyly as she bent her head to begin paying attention to Margo’s breasts. ‘Want me to bring one next time?’ As she groaned at the now familiar feeling of a tongue on her nipple, a desire to be filled again occupied Margo’s thoughts as she stroked herself.

Next time.

‘So she somehow got hold of a bunch of books or whatever… it’s like she wants an instruction manual… How To Be A Lesbian…’ Molly was back to figuring out Margo aloud while she and Wayne attempted to return the apartment to something resembling normality. He was observing a shift in her attitude since before the Moon. Now, it was more bewildered admiration than frustration, sexual or otherwise – meaning that Wayne felt able to take the opportunity to get something off his chest too.

‘I’ve often thought of myself as a lesbian...’ he said as he folded his end of the bedsheet in half. Moving forwards to meet him in the middle, Molly gave a distracted half-chuckle. ‘No, really…’ he continued, ‘It’s something I’ve been thinking about…’

‘Oh?’ she said with a curious frown as she handed over her end. It didn’t need to be a big deal, but he wanted to hear how it sounded outside of his own head. He’d known his whole life that there weren’t a lot of guys like him around, but perhaps it wasn’t that simple.

‘Sometimes it’s as if I forget I’m a guy…’ he replied, ‘Especially when I’m around you a lot. It’s like… everything out there just melts away.’ He gestured to the window, indicating the wider world and its expectations.

‘You don’t need to be a lesbian to be an awesome guy and be yourself,’ Molly said with a shrug. He knew she wasn’t dismissing him outright; this kind of conversation just wasn’t her natural go-to.

‘I know, but it helps me to acknowledge that how I see myself can… shift sometimes, I guess.’ She nodded, and started on the next task. It was easier for her to be doing something at the same time. That was alright; he appreciated that she was willing to meet him halfway.

‘You’re very flexible about other people, so I guess it makes sense you would be with yourself too…’ Molly shrugged again and bent to pick up one end of the couch. It wasn’t that she didn’t have the emotional intelligence for this, she just typically wasn’t as interested in the reasons for identity and feelings as she was in acting on them.

‘Yes, but it’s more like… everything feels… gay,’ Wayne explained, picking up the other end of the couch and sidling closer to the TV. As Molly hadn’t been home much lately, he had created a large space in the middle of the room to “store” his sketches. ‘Being with men feels gay, obviously… but being with you feels gay too… and so does admiring Marlon and Marlene...’ Molly smiled fondly at the mention of his celebrity crushes.

‘How about you pin your sketches on the walls? Would make a much better wallpaper than whatever this shit is…’ She gestured vaguely at the walls, and then responded to what he’d said while searching for some thumb tacks. ‘I get that. I feel gay about you too.’ He smiled, happy that she seemed to understand, even if she expressed it in fewer words.

‘It might help explain why me being a man didn’t matter to you…’

‘Do we need to explain it? Sometimes things are just the way they are. And I like you the way you are,’ she said simply, pinning to the wall a painting she had once given the award Wayne’s Weirdest.

‘I got that impression last week…’ he said bashfully as he recalled how accepted he felt as she helped him focus on his own pleasure. She grinned and handed him the rest of the thumb tacks. He took them, remembering that he should probably check on groceries before committing to redecoration.

‘You put up the rest – I don’t have the eye for what goes with what,’ Molly said before starting to relieve the dining chairs of jackets and NASA uniforms. ‘Sometimes I wondered if Janet and Laura realized you weren’t a woman!’ she laughed, referencing his girlfriends from their San Francisco days – the second time.

‘Well, they did ask me to father their child, so I’d say they were aware…’ he called from the kitchen, his head in the refrigerator. ‘We’re out of eggs, and some other stuff. I wanted to try that new recipe later...’ He went off to locate his shoes, humming contentedly as he went.

‘While you’re out…’ Molly said casually as she handed him a jacket from a pile slung over her arm. ‘Can you swing by the drug store and pick up a pack of those adhesive pads?’

‘Of course. Are you alright?’ She hadn’t needed menstrual protection in years, so he hoped nothing was wrong. Could the Moon have played havoc with her system? He felt his anxiety rise at the thought.

‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ she said, turning her back on him to return the jackets to their theoretical home. ‘Someone at work mentioned she wanted to try them.’ It was nice to see her starting to fit in. As if it were an antidote to panic, Wayne’s brain supplied him with a new word as he left the apartment. With what he considered excellent comedic timing, he popped his head back around the door.

‘Moon-struation…’ he said, waggling his eyebrows.

‘Better than your last one!’ Molly called back from the hallway.

As welcome relief from the slew of Apollo 15 interviews she’d been forced to do lately, Molly was holding soft, shapely hips as they rocked back and forth on top of her. She had brought her smallest dildo, which was now buried inside Margo and pressing nicely against Molly too. It felt like she had set off a firework in the room, being as though Margo was a whirl of red sparks, with explosions of sound at regular intervals.

At Molly’s direction, they had started off slower, but Margo had seemed to learn quickly what speed and angle worked best for her. Unsurprising, really – the woman was the brightest engineer of her generation. Now, holding herself up on either side of Molly’s head, with her long hair brushing rhythmically against Molly’s face, she wasn’t holding back. Molly couldn’t help but chuckle as she imagined Margo calculating the ongoing trajectory of vaginal insertion.

‘Why are you laughing?’ asked Margo indignantly as she slowed. Far from wanting a lady to feel like she was doing anything wrong, Molly decided to be honest.

‘I was imagining you figuring out the physics of this,’ she admitted, thrusting upwards to emphasize the point.

‘You never let up, do you?’ Margo admonished. ‘I’ve had a long day, and I just want you to…’ She rolled her eyes, but she was laughing too. Molly caught herself smiling at the fact.

‘To what?’ she challenged, disguising her smile with an eyebrow. Margo waited a beat before staring down at her intently. Molly wished she’d kept her glasses on.

‘To fuck me…’ Margo said, eyes ablaze with determination. To be fair, Molly had always known this was a woman with goals.

‘You got it!’ said Molly, grabbing her by the waist and flipping them. She grinned at Margo’s involuntary gasp as Molly slipped out of her and her head landed on the pillows. Quickly checking her eyes, Molly slid back into her, hoisting her legs halfway up for better access. It occurred to her that they hadn’t done any kissing this time. Was that weird? ‘Shut up, Molly,’ she scolded herself. ‘Since when do you care what’s weird?’ Fucking women was weird to a lot of people. Fucking a man that felt like a lesbian sometimes would probably be weird to almost everyone.

With a groan at the renewed pressure on her clit, Molly looked down at Margo and relished how much she was enjoying being fucked. Her chest was flushed, her lips were parted, and a gasp escaped every time Molly thrust into her. The eye contact was intense, almost wild, running on pure lust and stress relief. Who knew she would have this much sexual chemistry with Margo Madison?

Afterwards, they lay in silence, heavy breathing slowly abating. Molly, who had given it her all physically, was about to go and grab some water when Margo spoke up.

‘Is this… a difficult life?’ Molly frowned at the ceiling. Part of her wanted to get up and turn away, giving a vaguely helpful but ultimately guarded answer before dressing and then heading out. But something in Margo’s voice kept her rooted to the spot.

‘It can be, yeah…’ she said slowly, addressing the ceiling. ‘But it’s worth it.’

‘In what way?’ Margo said curiously, voice softer than usual. When she spoke to Molly, anyway.

‘Like with sex for example,’ Molly ventured. ‘You liked what we just did, right?’

‘Yes, I did.’

‘And it felt right that it was a woman inside you?’ Margo laughed at this, but her reply was clear.

‘Yes, it did.’

‘So, what I mean is… it’s worth it to get to have that. Having sex that doesn’t feel right, especially repeatedly, isn’t a fun life.’

‘I don’t know if I have your bravery.’ Molly was surprised at the comment. Why would she think that? This was Margo Madison – someone who went after what she wanted. Why would this be any different? Then Molly realized what she’d been hearing in Margo’s voice. It was fear. She frowned as she searched for something helpful to say without going overboard on the feelings. Molly was sure that was what Margo would prefer too.

‘You’ll be alright. You don’t exactly shy away from difficult things, Margo. It’s like at work… everything worth doing is hard.’ Margo left a space in the conversation, leaving Molly to wonder if she’d started exploring with other people too. Perhaps that was why she was asking. Molly decided it was none of her business. Instead, she settled on asking about support more generally.

‘Does anyone know this about you?’ she said, resisting the urge to quip, ‘That you’re a flaming dyke?’ A valiant effort, she thought.

‘Yes… one person. So, two including you,’ Margo said neutrally. Molly didn’t want to pry, but she was glad Margo had someone she could confide in. Maybe she really did have friends.

‘Technically three if you count Wayne. Don’t worry, you can trust him,’ Molly added. She wasn’t about to ask permission to share things with him, but it was important to get across what sort of person he was. Anyone would be lucky to know Wayne.

‘He seemed nice when we met before…’ Margo began, before stopping abruptly, perhaps realizing that bringing up that occasion could throw into question how easy and casual this really was. Molly knew she hadn’t come off well that night. But acknowledging that again would be like admitting they had a history. Instead, now sitting on the edge of the bed with her back to Margo, she stepped forwards into the unknown.

‘When are you playing next?’ she asked while pulling on her underwear. She wanted to be officially un-banished from that bar – it was a fun place.

‘Uh, next Friday, actually…’ said Margo, and Molly found herself feeling hopeful.

‘Alright if Wayne and I come along?’ Molly replied nonchalantly, buttoning up her shirt. Not all the way to the top, of course. She sensed that Margo was hesitating.

‘Okay. Yes,’ she said after a few moments. ‘He… seemed to like the music last time,’ she added, sounding like she was as concerned as Molly about not implying it was some kind of date. Thank god for Wayne.

On her way out, Molly grabbed her bag and put the dildo and harness back inside. After a moment’s hesitation, she took out the pack of adhesive pads Wayne had bought. She glanced over at Margo, who was already at her desk, pencil in hand. Shaking her head and smiling to herself, Molly placed the packet on the counter and left the apartment.

A week later, Margo looked tentatively up from her piano keys, trying not to make it too obvious that she was looking for someone. Two someones. At least this time, them turning up wouldn’t be such a confusing surprise. That didn’t stop her feeling nervous though. She wondered if this was how Abe felt when he had a date come and watch him play the cello. Margo almost missed a note as she reacted with alarm at the word “date”, as if it was possible to conjure that reality just by thinking the word.

Thank god Molly had said she’d bring Wayne. Despite it having the potential to resurface complicated feelings about the last time they turned up at 11:59, the idea of her arriving without him was even more nerve-wracking. ‘Oh god. What if she comes alone?’ she thought with sudden anxiety. She needn’t have worried though – just as the band were closing out their first piece, two figures entered, looking hopefully at the stage as they took their seats.

Margo was relieved to see that they’d chosen to sit at the back, providing her with extra confirmation that there had been no intent to invade her space last time they’d visited. Although, she reflected, she’d been past the point of needing that for a while now. It didn’t mean it wasn’t strange though. Should she join them after she was done playing? What would they talk about? Did Molly just want to bring him because the music was good? Maybe she was intending to pick up another woman, and had just wanted to make sure Margo wasn’t going to bite her head off again for being there.

She let herself glance up at them again, noticing Molly’s attire was very similar to last time, only now she knew what was under the button-down shirt and slacks. She deliberately didn’t try to gauge Molly’s expression – a repeat of her intense stare from last time would be too much to handle.

Once the set was over, Margo hovered behind the piano, nervously rubbing her thumbs and forefingers together. She felt stuck between disappearing into the back room and going over to say hello. Then she realized Wayne was waving her over. At least, she assumed he meant her. Perhaps he’d spotted someone he knew. But on observing his warm smile, big enough to spot from the opposite side of the room, she decided to take the plunge.

‘It’s good to see you, Margo!’ he said once she’d reached their table.

‘Hi, Wayne. Thanks for coming,’ she replied, trying not to lock eyes with his wife.

‘You want a drink? Molly tells me you’re a brandy lover…’

‘That’s very kind, thank you.’ Wayne went off to the bar, moving in time to the background music, and as Margo watched him go, she felt as though she didn’t want him to leave. Somehow the prospect of sitting alone with Molly for five minutes was intimidating. How could that be, when only last week she’d been sitting naked on top of her and... Margo realized that her thighs were still hurting a little from the unfamiliar exertion.

She blushed at the thought, suddenly very aware that her husband was only a few feet away. Was he really alright with what they’d been doing? How would she even go about finding out? Would trying to find out make it seem like she was taking this more seriously than Molly was? ‘I bet she’s not worrying about any of this. She does this all the time…’

‘You can sit down, you know…’ said Molly with a tone of bemusement, reminding Margo that she hadn’t said hello yet. She took the seat next to her, avoiding sitting straight across from those piercing blue eyes. ‘You were really good,’ Molly continued. ‘I liked the way you played off the cello – you had a great rapport going.’

‘Yeah, he’s my…’ Margo hesitated at calling Abe a “friend”, suddenly unsure whether it was the correct term. Where had he disappeared to, anyway? ‘I… know him,’ she finished, knowing this probably sounded oddly cryptic.

‘Right,’ said Molly, one corner of her mouth upturned. ‘Well, he was really good too.’ They were both facing the bar, staring straight ahead as if that would make Wayne come back quicker. At least, that was how Margo felt. Molly was probably completely fine, wondering why Margo wouldn’t look directly at her. Would this be when people would start to flirt, or…?

No – something more practical. ‘I could mention what she left behind at my apartment…’ Margo knew she wasn’t about to say it in so many words, but she’d been taken aback by the thoughtfulness. That Molly had cared enough, not only to remember their conversation but to act on it. Risking a glance to her left, she decided to keep it simple.

‘Thanks... for the packet you left.’

‘No problem, sweetheart,’ said Molly with the same sarcasm she’d used before 15. At least, Margo assumed that was the intended tone. Molly stretched to push Wayne’s chair out for him as he approached juggling three drinks.

‘So, Margo… how long have you been playing piano?’ Wayne had handed her a glass and was settling in to enjoy his own. Crisis averted – no flirting required.

‘Since I was little. I was encouraged to learn to help me absorb science and math better.’

‘Who taught you? I’d like to shake them by the hand!’ If it had been anyone else, she would have killed the conversation dead. But there was something about Wayne that made her feel safe.

‘My former mentor. He was a friend of my father’s and then…’ She glanced sideways at Molly – had she told him about her connection to Wernher? Not that they had discussed it, but Molly had surely heard it from somewhere. ‘And then he ended up as my boss, so the less said about him, the better,’ she finished, picking up her brandy glass gratefully.

Margo saw a flash of recognition in Wayne’s kind brown eyes. She suddenly felt vulnerable, as if there was a chance they wouldn’t want to be seen with her now they knew. It occurred to her that she hadn’t given much thought to how she felt about being seen with them. Not that they were objectionable in any way, but the merging of her two worlds was upon her and… it was terrifying and exhilarating in equal measure.

‘Gotcha. No pressure to say any more if you don’t want to.’ With most people, the moment that followed might have become uncomfortable. But with Wayne it was different. And despite the complex feelings she had about Molly being there, Margo noted that she too moved on from Wernher without further comment.

The first round of drinks was accompanied by relatively easy conversation – mostly Wayne asking Margo about her favorite music. A few times, she thought she caught sight of Molly smiling when she mentioned an artist or genre she had in common with one or both of them. When it was time for round two, Molly went off to the bar, leaving Margo alone with Wayne.

‘Margo, I want to apologize for the last time we were here,’ he said seriously, leaning towards her once Molly was out of earshot. ‘It’s not how I’d have wanted it to go.’ Margo nodded and smiled gratefully. This man was unusually sincere.

‘Thank you. It wasn’t your fault, though…’ she said, her eyes flicking towards the bar.

‘Well, Molly can speak for herself, but I imagine it wasn’t easy being confronted with me like that. I wanted to say I’m sorry that happened. And I’m looking forward to getting to know you. If that’s what you want.’ Margo was blown away by the directness. It was exactly how she wished people would be. She wasn’t used to the respect. Or the gentleness. An intriguing combination.

‘Thank you, Wayne. I’d like that.’ At what speed and in what ways, she didn’t know. But she meant it. What did that mean for this “thing” with Molly though? Making friends with her husband…

It was an unusual experience for Molly, being in a space containing so many women that wasn’t a lesbian bar or house party. Somebody high up – possibly Director Gilruth, although Molly hadn’t really been paying attention – had insisted on having a Christmastime celebration of Apollo 15 with every woman in the organization invited. A fine idea in principle, but as always Molly was skeptical of the true intentions – Thomas Paine had probably been instructed by the President to make it happen for the publicity. And then women would be forgotten about again.

‘Well, I’ve been assigned to Apollo 18! Testing the new LSAM!’ said Dani excitedly, from the other side of a small circle of former As-Cans. Molly could see how proud she was – and rightly so – Molly’d had a seat right next to her competence over the past two years. She hoped that Dani’s relative youth and cerebral nature wouldn’t get in the way of making the tough calls when push came to shove. Taking time to analyze the correct response from all sides ultimately served to slow you down in crucial moments.

‘I can’t believe I’m actually going to be the first African American in space!’ Dani exclaimed, scrunching up her face and punching the air with glee.

‘Not just American – you’ll be the first globally,’ Ellen corrected her seriously. ‘Harrison isn’t going up until 19 with me, so you’ll also be the first non-white human, period.’

‘That’s true – even better! But it shouldn’t have taken this long…’ Dani added, with enthusiastic agreement from the rest of the group. ‘How does Larry feel about you being assigned?’ she continued, turning to Ellen. ‘Must be nice to have a man that already understands the field!’ Ellen looked uncomfortable – well, even more uncomfortable than she usually did. She was an odd one, Molly always thought. Hard to figure out. Very smart, very quiet, and didn’t like to talk about herself as much as Dani and Tracy. Molly could relate to that.

‘He’s happy for me. But he’s an engineer, so he doesn’t know it firsthand – not like Gordo,’ Ellen said, nodding to Tracy. Molly noticed Ellen was skilled at deflection, like she was a politician. She grinned to herself as she remembered her interaction with Nixon while she was on the Moon. To his credit, he’d taken her insolence on the chin.

‘I hope you don’t mind that I’m going up there with your husband,’ Dani teased Tracy, nudging her playfully. They seemed to know not to include Molly in that sort of thing, which was just fine but... she suddenly missed Patty. Having someone around who not only knew the score but was part of it.

‘You’re welcome to him,’ said Tracy glumly, looking like she wanted to disappear into her glass of champagne. Molly knew Tracy hadn’t been assigned to a mission yet, and she wasn’t surprised. At this point, Molly’s opinion of Tracy’s character and ability had mellowed, but her volatility and divided priorities hadn’t yet impressed Deke enough to earn an assignment. Molly genuinely wasn’t sure if Tracy even wanted one.

She was distracted by catching sight of someone staring at her from a group of women huddled by the buffet table. They looked to be from the typing pool, or perhaps they were computers. The woman was tall, dark-haired and pale, with almond-shaped eyes that Molly found difficult to look away from. There was no mistaking that Molly was the object of her gaze. She looked as though she was bursting to break away from her colleagues, perhaps in a more profound sense than just being bored with the current conversation.

Involuntarily, Molly found herself wondering where Margo was – perhaps she’d left already? ‘No, stop that,’ she told herself. The idea that Molly would choose not to take an opportunity when it was being offered to her on a buffet platter was ridiculous.

‘Hey,’ she said to Dani, now that Ellen and Tracy were deep in conversation about Christmas plans. ‘That group over there… did you work with them?’ Dani turned to look, not appearing to find the question strange.

‘No, I think they’re from admin, or maybe catering…’ Right. If Dani didn’t know them, maybe the risk wasn’t that high… and the woman was hot...

‘I’m gonna go walk around,’ said Molly casually. ‘After all, this is an opportunity for us to mix with people from other parts of the agency, right?’ she said, relying on her reputation for cynicism to carry her through without suspicion. Dani smiled warmly, joining Ellen and Tracy’s conversation without further comment. On her way past, Molly locked eyes with the woman and gave her a subtle wink, nodding towards the fire escape. The seductive look she received back went straight between her legs.

Hit by the cool December air, Molly lit up a cigarette and waited. She knew she should really find out something about her first, not just react to a pretty face, but her cynical side told her it didn’t matter. America had won its publicity… they’d matched the Russians… for how long would they keep pretending to care about women in space?

‘Hey there…’ said a breathy voice behind her. ‘Saw you looking back there…’

‘You looked first,’ said Molly coolly, turning around slowly. ‘Something you want?’ she teased, noticing the dress she was wearing was significantly more adventurous than a woman at a work party would usually wear.

‘I want you,’ she replied, moving closer. ‘Have done since I saw you on TV – back when you got pinned.’

‘Oh really?’ Molly said slyly. Wayne had said he thought that would happen – or was that just women she’d already had?

‘Told my husband I thought you were inspiring, but really… I wanted you. Convinced my friend to add me to the list so I had the chance to find you.’

‘So you don’t work for NASA?’ asked Molly, and the woman shook her head slowly. Even better. ‘You wanna get outta here?’

‘God, yes, but I don’t have anywhere we can go… you got a car?’

Soon, having hastily driven a few blocks to the edge of a wooded, low-lit area, Molly was being enthusiastically ridden in the back seat of her car. One hand under a flowing navy dress, the other squeezing a generous tit that had spilled out in its owner’s haste. It was the first time Molly had been inside someone new since…

‘Shit…’ she thought as she realized where her mind was going, then distracting herself by burying her face in tits, licking and sucking as the woman clenched tighter around her.

‘Talk to me,’ said the woman suddenly, ‘Give me some of that snark like you gave Ed Baldwin...’ Uncharacteristically, Molly was taken aback. That wasn’t something you could just demand. She wasn’t a performing monkey. Sure, being ordered around could be hot, but you had to be on the same page. And have a sense of what made the other person tick. Like it was with…

‘Fuck this,’ thought Molly in frustration, and shifted them so that she could get her head under the dress. ‘My tongue has other plans,’ she said out loud, ducking down and replacing her hand with her mouth.

‘That was awesome, thanks,’ said Molly’s still unnamed companion once she was finished, then sitting up and planting a quick kiss on Molly’s cheek. ‘Can you take me back to the party? They’ll be wondering where I’ve gone…’

‘What are you gonna tell them?’ said Molly neutrally, although internally she was disappointed that it was already over. Sure, they weren’t that compatible, but to not even want to return the favor?

‘Taking a stupid risk like that and I didn’t even come…’ she thought to herself irritably as she drove them back, her passenger smoking moodily out of the window. Feeling unsatisfied, Molly really didn’t feel like going back to the party.

‘What do you think?’ asked Patrick as he handed Margo a glass of orange juice. ‘Glad I dragged you here?’ Margo gave him a wry smile. He had indeed been the reason she’d left her office to attend the “women’s” celebration for 15. It was one of those times where she was in favor of something in principle, but was reluctant to give too much, if any, of her own time to it. Good things had come out of teaching the As-Can class though, she supposed.

‘I keep saying... if you’re going to be Director one day, you’ll need to start showing your face more – sooner rather than later,’ Patrick went on. She wasn’t entirely convinced. Wasn’t it doing your work well that got you promoted? Speaking of hard workers, she then observed Bill crossing the room with a walking stick. When had he started using that? Had he recently broken a bone?

‘These events are fine but if it doesn’t translate into real change, I don’t see the point,’ she said, sipping her juice. ‘Take Bill, for example. To be fair, he's nowhere near the worst of them, and he always works hard, but given the chance, would he still laugh at “Eva von Braun”? Would he still tell a flight dynamics support who had the right answer to a GUIDO problem to stay in her lane?’

Before Pat could answer, they noticed Gene Krantz making his way towards them, flanked by Irene from Blue team. Pat gave her a look that said, ‘Not in front of the boss, eh?’ and Margo nodded to Irene, realizing that they hadn’t had a proper conversation before. More likely to be her own fault than Irene’s, she reflected.

‘Hi, Margo. How’s it going?’ Irene gave her a warm smile, eyes twinkling. She was definitely an attractive woman.

‘Let’s leave the ladies to it, eh Patrick?’ Gene interrupted, clapping him on the arm. ‘It is their evening, after all.’ Irene raised her eyebrows at Margo, who assumed this was shared, non-verbal ambivalence towards what had just been said.

‘Do you dislike this sort of thing as much as I do?’ said Irene conspiratorially once the two men were out of earshot. Margo looked at her in surprise.

‘You? But you’re so… good with people!’

‘When I need to be, yeah, I can switch it on. But I’ve been with these people all day and I’d rather be in my bed with a book right now.’ Margo hadn’t expected this. Irene was an INCO – the role explicitly for communications. And she was a natural at sociability.

‘What are you reading?’ Margo asked tentatively, hoping the question wasn’t too personal. She knew how she’d feel about being asked what she was playing on the piano. Or did she?

‘Have you heard of Stephen King?’ Irene said eagerly, a glint in her calm, sea-blue eyes. ‘He’s a new horror and science fiction writer...’

‘No, I... don’t think I’ve read a novel since high school,’ Margo replied, only realizing the truth of the statement as she was saying it.

‘There's a lot more science fiction around these days – I guess what we’re doing here must inspire people!’ Margo hadn’t considered this – it was an interesting theory. ‘Totally understandable if horror’s not your thing. It might sound like an unlikely interest, but I think... because it's completely different from everything else in my life, it helps me switch my brain off.’

Margo could understand what she meant, but didn’t think she’d have time. Not when she was already sacrificing precious calculation time to have sex with Molly. At risk of visibly blushing at the fact that this had become a semi-regular occurrence, Margo forced herself to try to converse like a normal person. She wasn’t sure she succeeded.

‘I go for jazz music, partly because I can listen while I’m working. Duke Ellington helped me figure out a possible landing trajectory for the new LSAM yesterday...’

‘But that’s not going until 18 – we haven’t even done 16 yet!’ said Irene aghast, before catching herself. ‘Sorry, I know we don’t know each other well, so I don’t want you to feel like I’m lecturing you,’ she added softly. ‘You’ve got a brilliant mind, Margo. Just remember to rest it sometimes,’ she added, reaching out to gently squeeze Margo’s arm. Unexpectedly, Margo felt her skin tingle under the sleeve of her cardigan. ‘If nothing else, the quality of your work will thank you.’

Margo was still thinking about what Irene had said when she sat down at her home desk. Was it really that crazy to be thinking about 18 already? As future Director, she would have to think ahead – especially if she wanted to make sure they got to Mars. So it made sense to practice that now – not just focusing on what was in front of her but what could be in front of her in two, five, ten years’ time.

It was during this rumination that she heard her buzzer sound. Who could want her at that time of night? Come to that, who would come to her door unannounced, period? Frowning, she picked up the rarely used intercom system and voiced an uncertain, ‘Hello?’

‘Hey, can I come in? It’s cold out here!’ Even through a whisper, there was no mistaking that well-travelled accent. Margo’s stomach flipped as she realized it was the first time Molly had turned up uninvited. She knew she didn’t have long to analyze how she felt about that.

‘Hi,’ breathed Margo nervously. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Teaching giraffes how to water-ski,’ Molly muttered back. ‘How about you?’ Margo rolled her eyes but couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity.

‘Are you still at that stage? I moved onto elephants years ago!’ Margo was quite proud of how quickly she managed to match Molly’s humor. Taking a deep breath, she buzzed her in. Once Molly had entered the apartment and closed the door behind her, she looked at Margo with an intensity that suggested she meant business.

‘You asked what I was doing here…’ Molly said as she walked towards her. Margo’s eyes widened as Molly began to unbutton her shirt, in a way that was clearly intended to evoke arousal in someone who enjoyed the slow reveal of an attractive chest. It seemed Margo was one of those people.

‘Yes…’ said Margo slowly, heartbeat increasing as her body whirred into action. Her mouth watered as she observed breasts contained in a quality sports bra, creating a cleavage that was not in any way a contrast to the strength of the rest of her. And then Molly’s mouth was on hers, surfacing only to say…

‘I want you to screw me. Hard.’ Oh god. She really meant business. Or rather, pleasure.

‘Oh god…’ Margo said aloud, not able to keep her instinctive reaction to herself. She was certain that had she not been in the mood for this, Molly would have respected that. But it was exciting, to have her so sure of what she wanted and of how to ask for it. Difficult to resist.

Suddenly bold, Margo pushed Molly backwards towards her desk. Molly wasn’t the only one who could play at that game. Along for the ride, Molly leaned back on the table and they resumed furious kissing, Margo’s hands finding their way to the attractive chest.

‘I want this off!’ said Margo assertively, hurriedly reaching to unclasp her bra at the back and pulling the straps down. At this, Molly’s already heavy breathing sounded like it was about to reach fever pitch.

‘Yeah? You want my tits?’ she said as Margo eyed them lustfully, throwing the bra aside. She caught herself feeling guilty, as though she should have neatly folded it instead.

‘Yes, I want them,’ Margo replied, feeling proud of herself for refocusing on what mattered. ‘Do you want the bed?’

‘No, here.’ This was a new side to Molly. Before, it had always been about what Margo wanted, what Margo was ready for. Now, it was as if Margo knew what to do and all Molly had to do was ask. Unsure that this was true, she cast her mind back to find something unexpected that Molly had done to her that she could reciprocate.

‘Alright, but turn around,’ she said, feeling a thrill at the spontaneity. With a groan of anticipation, Molly did so, leaning her hands on the desk. This revealed that Molly had something stuck to her pants. Mortified and amused in equal measure, Margo realized it was a tootsie roll wrapper. ‘I have a problem,’ she thought to herself, briefly closing her eyes in a moment of self-awareness and reproach.

Under the guise of appreciating Molly’s backside, she removed the wrapper by brushing it onto the floor as she cupped her with both hands. Then pulling everything below the waist down, she saw Molly arch her back impatiently – Margo decided she wouldn’t be taking the time to remove her own clothes. Molly groaned as Margo slid into her – quite roughly, considering she hadn’t done it from that angle before.

Margo too groaned as she felt Molly clamp around her fingers, as if she’d been aching for something in there for some time. With her other hand, she grabbed onto a breast as she curved her body around Molly’s and began to experiment with ways to exert forces that might constitute “hard”.