Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Character List

Ares IV crew

Alannah James: commander & mechanical engineer & pilot

Marianne Jeffries: doctor & chemist

Taylor Michaels: pilot & orbital dynamics

Pat Aarends - mechanical engineer & EVA specialist

Lawrence Jensen - computer scientist & systems engineer

Jack Harrison: geologist & EVA specialist

December 1st, 2040

Mark mumbled to himself as he dug through the large closet in the combination rec room/mess. He slid boxes and tubs from one side of the closet to the other, picked things up, and put them back down. Finally, he sighed and began to move the boxes out into the main rooms, stacking them carefully against a wall out of the way.

“Mark?” Marianne said. “What are you doing?”

Mark kept moving boxes, seeming not to have heard the doctor.

“Mark,” she repeated a bit louder.

“What’s going on?” Taylor asked as she stepped into the room from the ladder.

Jack followed her, took a look at Mark, and shook his head. “Doc, is he okay?" Jack whispered to Marianne.

“I have no idea. I don’t think he heard me. He’s really focused on whatever it is he’s doing.”

Taylor stepped closer to the closet and the stack of boxes. “Mark?”

He didn’t respond. 

“Mark,” Taylor said loudly, stepping into the doorway of the closet in front of him.

“Huh? What?” He blinked as if coming out of a trance.

“What are you doing?” She asked, gesturing to the stack of boxes.

“Looking for the Christmas tree. I know it’s in here somewhere, but I haven’t found it yet,” he explained. “Why aren’t any of these boxes labeled?”

“They’re numbered,” Taylor said.

“Then where is the inventory list that shows what’s in each box?” he asked.

“I think it’s on the computer,” Jack replied. “I can look it up after lunch.”

“I’ll just keep looking,” Mark said.

“Suit yourself,” the geologist said with a shrug.

Marianne pursed her lips and considered the Ares III astronaut for a moment. “Why don’t you come have lunch, and we’ll all look together afterward?” she suggested.

“Not hungry; besides, I have to get the tree out, set it up, and get all of the decorations off,” Mark answered.

“Um, why are you gonna take all of the decorations off?” Taylor wanted to know.

“So, we can decorate it together,” he responded, as if the answer were obvious.

“But it’s already decorated,” Jack said.

“Yep, and we should do it together. That’s part of the Christmas fun,” Mark responded.

Jack shook his head. 

“I think it’s a wonderful idea,” Alannah said as she entered the room. “I love decorating the tree. It’s a great team morale builder as well. Excellent idea, Mark.”

“Thanks, Commander. Now, where is the tree?”

“It should be in there,” Alannah replied.

“Mark, come have lunch, and I’ll help you look,” Marianne urged.

“Then I’ll help you undecorate it,” Taylor said.

“We’ll have dinner together tonight, then decorate again,” Alannah added. “I’ll have Lawrence cue up the Christmas playlist to listen to while we do it.”

“Ok, then we can talk about what we’re doing the rest of the month, too,” Mark said.

“What about the rest of the month?” Jack asked.

“What we’re going to do to celebrate Christmas.”

Jack shook his head. ”We have dinner on Christmas Day just like on Thanksgiving, and we open presents then. Christmas is not a multi-day holiday.”

“It is for me. Which reminds me, Hanukkah started a few days ago. I looked it up. Should we get the menorah out? We have one, don’t we?”

“We do,” Alannah replied, “and no, no one on the crew celebrates Hanukkah.”

“But if we’re recording videos or taking pictures, wouldn’t it be good to have on display?” he asked.

“I wonder if that would come across as performative,” Jack said.

“Maybe,” the commander responded. “Let me contact NASA and see what they say.”

Mark nodded. “Sounds good. Do we need to decorate or plan for any other holidays?”

“No, but thank you for asking.”

“Mark, come eat,” Taylor said as she set a tray at his usual spot at the table. “I made you sweet and sour chicken.”

“You really want to celebrate all month long?” Jack asked.

“Of course,” Mark replied as he sat down.

Marianne shot Jack a glare. “I think it sounds like an excellent idea.”

“So do I,” Alannah agreed.

“I’m up for it,” Taylor said. “We’re almost home. That alone makes me feel like celebrating.”

Jack shook his head. “Whatever.”

“What’s the deal, Jack? Why do you hate Christmas?” Mark asked between bites.

“I don’t hate Christmas. I think I just have Christmas fatigue. My mother would decorate for Christmas on November 1st every year. Halloween decorations came down, and Christmas went up. She didn’t take it all down until after New Year’s. Usually, a week or two later. We watched every single show and movie ever made. The music played nonstop in the house. As a kid, I loved it. In my early teens, I started to get annoyed and, honestly, embarrassed. It was kind of a relief to go away to college and get a break from all of it. Honestly, since I was home for a few days for Thanksgiving and then not again until after finals, two weeks into December, it was easier to deal with,” Jack explained as he cleaned up from his lunch. “It was best when I moved out on my own, into my own apartment. I was finally able to enjoy Christmas again by doing it my way. So, I’ll help decorate, and I’ll be here on Christmas Day, but don’t expect me to participate in something every day.”

“Understood,” Mark replied. “I wouldn’t tell anyone they have to do what I want to do every day, but you are welcome whenever you want to join in.”

“Thanks,” Jack said.

No one else spoke until the geologist had made his way back up the ladder.

“So, I assume you have plans for every day this month,” Taylor commented.

“Not every day, though I’d love it if we could do something every day,” Mark replied.

“Why don’t you type up your ideas on a calendar and share them with me?” Alannah suggested.

Mark nodded. “As soon as we finish digging the tree out, setting it up, and clearing it off, I’ll share.”

Alannah chuckled. “Of course, you already have it typed up. I should have expected it.”

“Well, NASA did want me to start planning my future after all,” he said with a wink. “Just ask the doctor there.”

Marianne shook her head and smiled. “It’s true. Though I’m pretty sure they were thinking about beyond your time on Hermes, you know, when you’re back home and released from medical care.”

“I’ve done some of that planning as well,” he reassured her.

“Good, well, then I have things to do in the lab,” the doctor said. “So, I’ll see you all this evening.”

“Are you two okay getting the tree set up?” the commander asked.

“Yep,” Taylor replied. “It is only a tabletop tree after all.”

"Well, then, I will also see you this evening.”

“See you then, commander,” Mark said. “Ok, time to find the tree.”

“It has to be there,” Taylor commented. “We set it up last year on the way to Mars.”

“Who put it away?” he asked.

“Not me,” she answered.

“Well, what kind of help are you then?” Mark smirked at her and winked.

“I could just leave you to find it on your own,” she suggested.

“You wouldn’t do that to me. You like me too much.”

“Says who?”

“Ok, you feel sorry for me for the four Christmases I had to spend alone on the surface of Mars with no tree or presents.”

Taylor laughed. “Damn, you’re gonna use that for life, aren’t you? Every time you get the chance, you’re gonna whip out ‘while I was stranded on a deserted planet’ like some old person talking about walking miles to school uphill in the snow, both ways.”

“Why not?” 

She laughed. “Absolutely no reason you shouldn’t. You really should use it whenever you get the chance. I mean, absolutely no one I’ve ever known could top that story. Now, let me take a turn looking for the tree.”

“Go for it,” he replied, gesturing to the closet as well as the tubs and boxes he’d already moved out into the room.

“It’s probably at the back,” she said. “That’s what always happens; as each holiday is decorated for, the boxes for the others get pushed further and further back.”

“Not at my house,” Mark said.

“Oh?”

“My mother had my dad build shelves in the storage area of the basement. She labeled them for each holiday, and we always had to put the boxes back on the right shelf.”

“Hmm, that’s a good idea. Maybe we should do that here. You’ve already moved most of the stuff out. We can move the rest out, then label the floor and shelves with tape and a marker. We just have to make sure it fits tightly enough that things don’t escape when there’s no spin or that we can use the straps to hold them in place.”

“Good idea. I’ll go get the tape and marker while you keep looking for the tree.”

Taylor chuckled. “You just don’t want to keep moving boxes.”

“Hey, I’ll move them back in.”

“You’d better, since you started all of this anyway.”

“I promise.”

“Ok.”

Mark crossed the room to the ladder and moved quickly to his lab, where he found duct tape and a Sharpie. When he returned to the mess, he saw that Taylor had indeed found the tree and placed it on the table.

“I suggest we do the closet first, then undecorate the tree, and then we can have a snack,” Taylor said.

Mark nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

A little while later, as they were removing the decorations from the tree, Mark paused, cocked his head to the side, and said, “There are no lights on this tree, are there?”

“Um, no,” Taylor replied.

“That whole avoiding fire in space thing, huh?”

“I’d assume.”

“NASA nannies,” Mark grumbled. “Come on, we have to have safe lighting options. It’s not like we’re going to leave them lit 24/7 until Christmas.”

“You can look, but I doubt you’ll find anything.”

“I’m so getting the biggest tree I can fit wherever I’m living next year at this time and absolutely covering it in lights. I may have to cover the house with lights, too. I should probably email my parents now and ask them to go to all the stores the day after Christmas and buy out all the lights left. Well, maybe just Dad. I’m not sure Mom would go for that. Martinez would, though. I could ask him. Maybe I should ask all of the crew. They could clear out all the stores in the greater Houston area.”

“You really love Christmas, don’t you?” Taylor noted.

“I do, which is probably why the last few years have been hard.”

“I can’t imagine.”

“Last year was actually probably the hardest. You all were so close, but I was still celebrating alone,” Mark said as he tucked ornaments into a box. “I tried to create a tree out of a sample stake and the green flags. I tore up old clothes and tied them into balls and made ‘ribbons’ out of the leftover pieces and hung them, the best I could, on the ‘tree.’ I spiral-cut a few T-shirts into long strips and sewed them together. Then I cut along the edges to kind of fray it to make a garland. I didn’t have any lights there either. I ended up setting one of the laptops behind it with some crazy screensaver of changing colors. It worked. We could do that here.”

“Please tell me you took pictures of that.”

“I think there may be pictures in my logs. If not, I know I took a video. I don’t know if I remembered to send it to Annie, though. Oops,” Mark grimaced. “Oh well, what she doesn’t know won’t end up hurting me. I can always send it out next year, a “throwback Thursday” kind of post.”

“We should probably record everyone decorating the tree tonight,” Taylor commented.

Mark nodded. “We should. Are we close enough to livestream? What’s the time delay?”

“You’d have to ask Lawrence. I’ve lost track. I know we’re under five minutes, but I don’t know by how much. Would Annie want us to livestream?”

“I don’t know. She hates it when she can’t control the media going out. Maybe we’d better just record it. I can take pictures too. If we’re not close enough for me to post them to social media, I’ll send them to her, and she’ll do it. I know she’s been begging for more pictures of me.”

“You’ve been avoiding the camera,” she noted.

Again, Mark nodded. “Yeah. I know I look better now than I did when you all picked me up, and I wasn’t even as bad off as I could have been because I had plenty of food. It was the low gravity that was the biggest issue.”

“You look almost like you did when you first launched.”

Mark just looked at her with a single raised eyebrow.

“Ok, maybe not, but you look healthy.”

“Yeah,” he acknowledged.

“So, I’ll take pictures too; that way, we can make sure you’re in several of them.”

“Sounds good.”

“Ok, well, with the tree bare, I should head to the bridge and check navigation. I’ll see you later.”

“See you.”

~~~~~

“Lawrence, cue up the music,” Alannah said as everyone finished eating.

“Just don’t play anything from the 70s,” Mark warned. “I’ll make sure you get nothing but coal in your stocking.”

“I don’t think he’s joking,” Taylor commented. “Look at his face, and I wouldn’t put it past Martinez to have sneaked some coal in Mark’s stuff just so he could do it.”

“While you’re at it, could you please make sure there aren’t any versions of ‘Last Christmas’ on that playlist?” Jack asked. “That song is awful, no matter who sings it.”

Lawrence nodded. “I already checked for that one.”

“What do you have against that song?” Marianne asked.

“It’s just dumb,” Jack replied.

“He’s right, it is,” Mark agreed as ‘White Christmas’ began to play over the speakers. “Though if I had to choose a version, I can just barely stand the Jimmy Eat World one. Now, let’s start decorating.”

“Does anyone have any idea where the ornaments came from?” Taylor asked. “Were they NASA-provided or what?”

“Some of them are,” Alannah replied. “The mission ornaments are from NASA. They’re the same ones sold online and in the various NASA gift shops. Others were brought on board by previous astronauts who wanted something from home while they were in flight. They didn’t always take them back home. I think even some of the rehab crews decorated for Christmas and hung their own ornaments as well.”

“That feels like something we should write up and post online with pictures,” Mark observed, laying the ornaments out on the table. “It’s just the kind of human interest stuff Annie loves. We could find out who brought each ornament aboard and post a picture of the ornament with the story behind it.”

“You’re right, she would,” Alannah agreed. “So, that’s your job tomorrow.”

“Hey,” Mark protested, then sighed, “I thought changing crews would mean that’s someone else’s job.”

“It technically is; it’s mine,” Lawrence admitted, “but you’re better at the media aspect.”

“The best in the Ares program,” Taylor said.

“As long as it’s not my job,” Jack commented.

Pat Arends, the Ares IV mechanical engineer, laughed. “No one would ever ask you to talk about anything but rocks, Jack. I promise you.”

“What am I missing?” Mark wanted to know as the rest of the crew laughed, and Jack shook his head.

“You and Jack are polar opposites when it comes to the media,” Marianne explained. “You excel…”

“And I suck,” Jack said.

“I wouldn’t put it that way,” Alannah replied gently, while three others said “yes” emphatically. The group again laughed.

Jack shook his head. “It’s okay, commander. We all have our strengths, and dealing with media in any form is not mine.”

“Come on. Let’s get these ornaments hung,” Mark prompted.

“Do we all hang them at once?” Taylor asked. “It is kind of a tiny tree. We could take turns.”

“It’s not as small as the tree on ISS2,” Lawrence noted. “I think that one may be two feet tall. This one is at least three feet.”

“I think the Ares I ornament should go first, and then each of the other missions in turn,” Marianne suggested.

“That’s as good a place as any to start,” the commander agreed.

“Yeah, but who goes first?” Jack asked.

Mark shook his head and sighed. “Doesn’t matter; someone just do it.”

“Well, Mark should do III, and Alannah should hang ours for IV,” Marianne replied.

“I’ll do the first one,” Taylor volunteered, and she did just that. Pat hung the Ares II ornament.

Mark held the Ares III ornament up to look at it. The ornament was a metal version of their mission patch. He ran his hand over the names circling the image. “See you soon, guys, and next Christmas we’re doing this together,” he whispered.

Taylor put a hand on his shoulder when he stepped back as Alannah hung the Ares IV ornament.

Everyone crowded around the table and began to hang ornaments. It didn’t take long for the small tree to be filled.

“What is this?” Jack asked, holding up a sparkly, long, bumpy green ornament.

“There it is!” Mark exclaimed, taking the ornament from the geologist. “The Christmas pickle!”

“Christmas pickle?” Pat looked bewildered. “What on Earth, or on Hermes, for that matter, is the Christmas pickle?

“You’ve never heard of it?” Mark asked.

“No,” Pat replied.

“Me neither,” Jack said.

Mark looked around at the crew. Only Lawrence nodded. “I can’t believe none of you have heard of the Christmas pickle.”

“Are you going to stand there in disbelief or explain it to us?” Pat asked.

“The Christmas pickle goes on the tree,” Mark began.

“Obviously,” Taylor said.

Mark rolled his eyes at her and continued. “It goes on the tree. Only the person who hangs it is supposed to know where it is. The best idea is to hang it on Christmas Eve or first thing Christmas morning. Then on Christmas morning, everyone else looks for it. The first person to find the pickle either gets an extra present from Santa Claus...”

“Or they get a year of good fortune,” Lawrence added. “So, Mark, are you going to hang it, or should I?”

“Why not someone else?” Jack inquired.

“We both know the story, so that means we’ve both had chances in the past to look for the pickle. It’s only fair that the rest of you get a chance to experience it,” Lawrence explained.

“This is Mark’s first Christmas with others in years,” Marianne commented. “We should let him decide if he’d rather hide it or look for it.”

Mark pursed his lips for a moment. “I’ll hide it. I’ve never had the chance to do it.”

“Well, then you should put it away for now,” Alannah told him.

“Will do,” Mark replied and crossed the room to the ladder.

“Wait,” the commander called, “where are you going?”

“To put it away. I’ll find a safe spot for it in my room.”

“You could leave it here,” she suggested.

He nodded. “I could, but I’m not going to.”

The crew alternately shook their heads and laughed.

“Well, this Christmas is definitely going to be different,” Pat commented.

“I think that’s a good thing,” Taylor said.

“I agree,” Marianne put in. ”Now, it’s getting late. I’m heading to bed. I’ll see you all in the morning.”

The crew members began to clean the room, then each left for their quarters until only Taylor was left when Mark returned. 

“Everybody’s gone,” he said.

“Yeah,” Taylor replied. “They decided to turn in.”

“You’re not tired?”

“I am, but I didn’t want you to come back to an empty room.”

“Well, thanks for that. We probably should turn in, though. There’s still more work to do tomorrow, no matter how close we are to Earth. No rest for us space people.”

She laughed lightly. “Gotta maximize all of our time; make it worth the cost of us being here.”

“I’m not sure I can ever make it worth the cost of my mission,” Mark commented. 

“Don’t worry about that,” Taylor said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t, at least not most of the time,” he said with a slight smile. “Just thinking about it a bit more as we get closer to home. Anyway, gotta go to bed so we can get up tomorrow and do more Christmas stuff.”

“What are we doing tomorrow?” 

“You have to wait and see.”

“Well, then,” Taylor stretched and yawned. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Night.”

Chapter Text

December 2, 2040

“Hey, Commander,” Mark said as she entered his lab. “Can I help you?”

“I just wanted to check in with you on the plans for today,” she said. “The calendar you sent me said stockings. Are you planning on asking everyone to bring in a sock?”

Mark shook his head. “I thought about it, but then I had another idea.”

“Dare I ask?”

“Nothing that will get us in trouble with NASA,” he reassured her. “At least I don’t think so, not this close to the end of the mission anyway.”

It was Alannah’s turn to shake her head. She drew a stool up closer to his lab table and sat down. “You’d better tell me.”

He frowned. “But if I do, then you don’t have plausible deniability.”

“Now, I really need to know,” she insisted.

“Fine,” Mark sighed. “It’s really nothing big. We all have old sweatshirts that we’ve tossed into the pile to be ejected in the old supply ship to burn up in the atmosphere before we return to Earth. I took a few of them out and cut stocking shapes from them. Then I used the needle and thread we have to fix small tears and stitched them together to make bigger stockings. I figure everyone can use Sharpies to write their own names on them. Nothing too big, but something kind of fun. We can hang them outside our rooms or in the mess. I thought I’d ask everyone what they wanted to do.”

“If we were earlier in the mission, using that much thread might have been a problem with NASA, but at this point, you’re right, they won’t care. Excellent thinking to reuse the old sweatshirts, but…”

“I took shorter showers for a few days and washed them all.”

She smiled. “Ok then, there’s not much else I can say. We’ll put the Christmas music on after dinner again and hang stockings. Do you have plans to fill them?

“I have a few ideas,” he said with a smile.

“Mind if I put things in as well?”

“It’s your ship, commander,” Mark answered.

“Well, then, I have some planning on my own to do. I’ll see you later.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“What is all of that?” Jack asked, gesturing to the pile of seemingly random objects sitting in the middle of the table.

“The activity for the day, I’d assume,” Marianne replied.

“Don’t worry, Jack,” Mark said. “You don’t have to do it, and if you do, you can get it done pretty fast.”

“But what is it?” the geologist asked.

“Patience, Jack,” the commander said as she stepped into the room. “Mark will tell us all about it after dinner.”

“Fine, I’m starving anyway. I’m going to get started.” 

Mark turned from the cabinets of food. “What do you want to eat, Jack?”

“I can get it.”

“I know, but I’m getting mine; might as well get yours too. You all have done so much for me for months; let me do something nice for you,” Watney argued.

“Fine, honestly. I don’t care. Just whatever you’re having will be fine.”

Mark nodded and exchanged a glance with the commander as Jack walked across the room and looked out.

Marianne pulled a packet out of the cabinet and handed it to Mark, nodding back to the geologist. “It’s his favorite,” she whispered.

Mark nodded, checked the package, saw that it was spaghetti bolognese, and took out a second one for himself. Once heated, he brought them to the table and called over to the other man. “Dinner’s ready.”

“Thanks,” Jack replied. Sitting down at the table, he removed the cover from the tray, took a deep breath, picked up his fork, and took a bite. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be a grinch. I’m just not in a good mood.”

“What’s going on?” Mark asked as he sat down across from the other man and dug into his own dinner. The rest of the crew moved around, heating their meals and getting drinks.

“Analysis just isn’t moving as quickly as I’d like. When we get back, everything gets handed over to the geology department. I’ll be stuck in debriefings for at least a week and won’t get to work with the samples. I was hoping I could have more done before we land. This is the whole reason I’m here.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Mark asked, then continued with a grin. “I have plenty of time. It’s not like my work takes much time. As Martinez reminds me as frequently as he can, it’s not like it’s real science.”

He paused and waited for a response. Receiving none, he said, “Seriously though, the plants really don’t require that much attention, especially at this point. I check their moisture levels and height each day, and that’s about it. I’m almost done writing up the comprehensive reports of my potato plants growing on Mars for publishing. The reports on all of the mechanical engineering work I did on Mars are done and already sent off as a thesis submission. I have plenty of time. If I wouldn’t be in your way, I’m more than willing to help out however you need. All you have to do is tell me what to do.”

“I’ll think about it. Thank you.”

“Now that that’s sorted,” Alannah said. “How about you tell everyone about your plan for today,  Mark?”

“It’s pretty simple,” he started. “Everyone is going to decorate their stockings.”

“Stockings?” Taylor squealed. “We have stockings? How did you arrange that?”

“I didn’t arrange it,” he replied.

“He made them,” Alannah added.

“You made stockings for us?” Lawrence said. “Really?

“Well, I looked through the boxes and didn’t find any,” Mark responded with a shrug. “It seemed like the thing to do. I mean, what’s Christmas without stockings?” He went on to explain how he’d made the stockings.

“That was really smart,” Taylor commented.

Pat nodded his head. “Yeah, definitely a better use of the old clothes than just letting them burn up in the atmosphere, and they should be small enough to roll up and stick in our boxes to take back to Earth. Even if we never use them again, they’ll be a great souvenir of our time on Hermes.”

Mark shrugged. “It just came to me. I haven’t had a stocking in years. Well, I did hang up a sock on Mars in the Hab, but it was just me, so I had to fill it myself, and that’s just not the same. For Ares III, I’d packed tiny little stockings in my stuff. They wouldn’t have fit more than one of those tiny candy canes. I looked through my personal items, but they didn’t get sent back on this trip. I was so busy on Mars when Hermes was being packed this time, I didn’t think to mention them to anyone. I’m not sure I would have even remembered Christmas presents if Lewis hadn’t mentioned them in an email.”

“Mentioned?” Alannah chuckled. “Why do I have a feeling she asked you if you wanted her to do the shopping for you because Martinez had already suggested he’d do it?”

“She told you, or you read that email,” he accused with a laugh. “That’s exactly what her email said.”

“No, but I got to know Melissa and the rest of your first crew fairly well in the time between finding out you were alive and our launch.”

“Doesn’t take much to get to know Rick,” Pat commented. 

“Yeah, I’m not sure there’s anyone at NASA or JPL who doesn’t know him at this point,” Jack noted. “It’s no wonder you two get along so well.”

“Lewis actually threatened to let Martinez do the shopping if I didn’t get her a list and fast. Naturally, I came up with one. I love the guy, but I don’t trust him to do my Christmas shopping. His wife would have been ok, but not him.”

“We all saw the boxers he picked out for you,” Taylor noted.

Mark's cheeks flushed. “Thanks for the reminder.”

“You two are so similar,” Jack noted. “I bet he wouldn’t let you do his Christmas shopping either.”

“Nope, no way,” Mark laughed. 

“So, how does this work?” Jack wanted to know.

“I thought about making the stockings all the same color,” Mark began, “but there just weren’t enough clothes of the same color. I decided to mix it up and make them all different. Everyone gets to choose their favorite. Then I collected every color Sharpie and duct tape I could find on board. I had no idea we had so many colors of duct tape by the way. I wish I’d had all of these colors on Mars. You all have a much better selection than Ares III did. Anyway, all you have to do is put your name on the top, but if anyone wants to decorate more than that, feel free.”

“I want mine to be plaid,” Taylor announced. “Can I have the white stocking?”

Mark pulled the white one from the pile and passed it to the pilot, and then proceeded to pass the color of choice to each of the other crew members. Alannah took the dark green.

Marianne chose the two-tone blue. “I love that you used two different colors for the front and back. Now, I just have to decide which one I want to be the front.”

“I was just trying to use up the material I had in the best way I could.”

Jack and Pat each took a dark blue stocking, while Lawrence chose the red.

“Where’s yours, Mark?” Alanna asked.

“Right here.” He pulled it from his back pocket and held it up. The stocking was a patchwork of all of the other colors.

“You hid that one on purpose,” Taylor scolded playfully. “Now, I have to work even harder to make mine as good as yours.”

“Why is everything a competition with you, Michaels?” Pat teased. 

“Gotta have the best stocking, that’s all,” she replied.

Marianne stood up and considered the supplies on the table. “Mark, were there any more scraps of material left?”

“Just little bits and pieces. Why?”

“I’m thinking about making holly leaves and berries for the top of my stocking next to my name,” she answered.

“I’ll go get them.”

“Thank you.”

“Jack, Hermes to Jack,” Lawrence called. “You’re just staring at your stocking. Aren’t you at least going to write your name on it?”

“I’m going to,” the geologist said. “I’m just trying to decide what else to put on it.”

“You’re actually going to decorate it? The Christmas bug must have bitten you,” Taylor mused.

“Well, I can’t let you have the best stocking,” he chided in return.

Alannah rolled her eyes, shook her head, and chuckled at the childish sparring between the crew members. Quickly finishing her own stocking, she sat back and observed the rest of them.

Just before turning in for the night, she returned to the rec/mess and stood looking at the stockings where they had been mounted on the wall. They were as varied as the crew members themselves.

Her stocking stood out against the white wall, simplicity in itself, with nothing more than her name for decoration.  Marianne’s was a statement in Christmas class with her name in sweeping cursive at the top and the cloth holly and berries sewn to the corner. The pilot had managed to make hers appear to be in plaid with the use of a few colors of duct tape in large and small strips crisscrossing the whole sock. Her name was in large block letters. The geologist had made what he called Christmas rocks of different colors from the same tape Taylor had used. His name was also in block letters, though smaller than the pilot’s. Lawrence’s name was nearly illegible except for his large L. He’d chosen to use the tape to create an ornament over the main body of his stocking. Pat had created a tree on his and filled the top with large all-capital block letters. Finally, Mark’s stocking, the patchwork of everyone else’s, hung at the end with nothing more than his name as decoration.

She heard someone slide down the ladder and turned to see Mark step into the room.

“Sorry, commander,” he said. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“No intrusion. I was just taking a last stroll around the ship before bed.”

“Do you do that often?” Mark inquired.

Alannah shook her head. “Not really, but tonight it seemed like a good idea. Plus, I’m enjoying this room more now with the decorations.”

“Me too.”

“Thank you for everything you’re doing,” she said.

“It’s nothing.” He waved a hand as if to wave away the gratitude. “It’s mostly selfish anyway. I haven’t had a good Christmas in four years, after all. The first two, when no one knew I was still alive and I couldn’t communicate with anyone, were the worst, but the others weren’t much better. Once I could watch the movies and not just tell the stories to Soju and my plants, that helped.”

Alannah tilted her head to one side, considering before she spoke. “I can’t begin to imagine how alone you were, but there is something inherently cute about the image of you sitting in the Hab, telling the rover and your plants the story of A Christmas Carol or Charlie Brown Christmas. If you don’t want to tell that story over and over, I’d suggest you not let Annie know.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s in my logs somewhere,” he shrugged.

“She won’t have access to those; only the doctors will,” the commander reassured him. “You know, I think we become so used to everything being public knowledge, we forget about how intrusive it is that the flight surgeons have access to our private logs as well. It’s rather unsettling.”

“It would be interesting to see how many of us really use the personal logs and how in-depth our logs are,” Mark commented. “I know I was more careful with what I logged before I was stranded and had nothing to do but talk to the computer. The logs are supposed to allow us to blow off steam or record things we don’t want others on the crew to know we’re feeling, but they’re not truly private.”

“In other words, how many things are still being bottled up rather than dealt with in even the most basic form through typing it out? Well, that’s definitely something worth bringing up at the debriefing. By the way, in a similar vein, it was really nice of you to offer to help Jack. He has to be struggling more than he shared. It’s unusual for him to share even as much as he did.”

Again, Mark shrugged. “I know what it is to be alone and to be overwhelmed. Besides, I thought it might also be a way to get him out of his Christmas funk and help him find the fun again. It’s just better when we’re all involved.”

“Ah ha!” Alannah pointed at him. “I should have known you had an ulterior motive. You’re right, though. It is better when we’re all involved. Tomorrow’s activity should have everyone excited. It was such a great idea. I’d ask you where it came from, but it’s getting late, and the whole crew will want to know, so I’ll wait until then to find out with everyone else. Good night, Mark.”

“Good night, Commander.” He waited until he heard her cross the floor, then glanced over his shoulder to be sure she was gone before crossing to the closet and pulling out a box he’d hidden from Taylor by mislabeling it as they’d rearranged. Smiling to himself, he went to work.

Chapter Text

December 3rd, 2040

“How did you do it? Where did it come from?” Taylor nearly pounced on Mark as he descended into the rec/mess module. 

“What are you talking about?” he asked, feigning bewilderment.

She smacked him lightly on the arm. “Like you don’t know. The ‘fireplace’ on the wall under the stockings. It had to be you.”

“Nah,” he replied, rubbing his arm and pouting. “Must have been Santa.”

“Cut it out,” she said, this time poking him in the other arm. “Santa is much too busy right now.”

“Not to mention this is too far for the man in the red suit to be flying at this time of year,” Pat put in.

“And I’m not sure that reindeer could fly in space without spacesuits,” added Lawrence.

“According to NORAD, they fly to the ISS2 every year, just like they used to go to the ISS,” Mark pointed out, rubbing his other arm. “The reindeer can fly after all. They’re magical animals. Who knows what they can do?”

“Good point,” Lawrence acknowledged. “But if you don’t tell Taylor, she’s going to keep poking bruises into your arms and annoying the rest of us.”

Taylor scoffed, “I didn’t even poke him that hard, but I will do it again.” She held up her pointer finger and moved in Mark’s direction.

“Fine, fine!” He held up his hands in surrender. “Why won’t you just leave it as the magic of Christmas? I don’t understand, but geez, stop hurting me, or there won’t be anything in your stocking but coal.”

“I’d say no way,” Taylor started, “but at this point I wouldn’t put it past you to have found a way to get coal or some other black rock on board just for this. Martinez being your partner in crime after all.”

“You said that two days ago when I told Lawrence not to play Last Christmas.”

“Huh,” she said. “I guess I did. So where did the fireplace backdrop come from?”

“I honestly don’t know where it came from,” he told her. “Though I have my suspicions. I found it in the closet when we were rearranging.”

“I didn’t see it,” she frowned. “How did I miss it?”

“I hid it,” Mark replied simply, then bit his lip as Pat and Lawrence began to chuckle.

“What is that?” Jack asked, pointing at the wall where the stockings were displayed.

“A fireplace,” Taylor exclaimed. “Isn’t it great?”

“It’s much too early in the morning for that much cheerfulness,” he replied.

“Mark was just telling us where it came from,” she went on as she crossed the room, took out a few packets of drinks, and moved to the hot water dispenser.

“I don’t know for sure,” Mark said. 

“But you have your suspicions,” Pat said.

“Yes, we had one just like that when I was a kid. Well, not just like that; it was textured to be more like real bricks. My dad always made sure it went up on the wall until we moved to a house with a real fireplace. This is nearly the same, though, with the bricks and fire. Considering it’s onboard, it has to have been made with flame-retardant paper. It might have been onboard for Ares III and still be here, or it may have been added for your flight. Who knows? I saw it and couldn’t resist putting it up, but I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“So you did it after we all went to our quarters for the night,” Alannah observed. “You'd better have gotten plenty of sleep yourself.”

“I got enough,” he replied. “I can always nap later if Jack doesn’t need me.”

“You were serious about that?” the geologist asked.

“Absolutely,” Mark replied, accepting a cup of coffee from Taylor, who also set one down in front of Jack, who nodded his thank you before she began sipping on her hot chocolate.

“You really don’t have work of your own to do?”

“I can always find something to do, but I don’t have anything super pressing. Most of my work is coming to an end as we get closer to home. I’m not exactly thrilled with everyone doing my work back there either, but I’m trying to deal with it because I’m pretty sure I’ll be away from the lab even longer than you will be.”

Jack grimaced. “Yeah, your debriefing is bound to take much longer than the rest of us.”

“You can still say no. I don’t want to get in your way.”

“Oh, I’m not letting you touch the actual rocks…”

“Hey, I collected those,” Mark retorted. “Well, most of them anyway.”

“Yes, you did, and I, along with every planetary geologist on Earth, am eternally grateful. You did the hard part; now we can do the analysis. Be honest, grinding up rocks and running the ChemCam or other equipment will just bore you. You already did so much of that on Mars.”

“I did, you’re right.” Mark nodded, then continued, “And yeah, that stuff just isn’t my strong suit. If I’m not helping with rocks, then what can I do for you?” 

Jack stood, washed out his empty cup, and grabbed a granola bar. “After you eat, come see me, and I’ll tell you.”

“Will do. But before you go.”

“The Christmas activity of the day?” Jack asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Listen, Scrooge,” Taylor started.

“I am not Scrooge,” he argued.

“Children,” the commander intoned. 

“Children are exactly what today is all about,” Mark said. “Thanks for the segue, Commander. I don’t know about you all, but I haven’t done any Christmas shopping, except in my dreams, for years. I did consult with Lewis and my parents on gifts for everyone this year, here and at home. I haven’t actually gotten to shop in a store or even online, however. We’re close enough to Earth now that we can access the internet with minimal wait, right, Lawrence?”

“Yes.”

“So, I thought maybe we could do some shopping for the kids who will be stuck at Texas Children’s Hospital over Christmas. NASA owes me so much back pay that I have plenty to spend, but when I brought this up to Annie, she took it to the director. The director took it to the president, and President Young said he would personally cover the cost of whatever we buy. After dinner, I thought we could do some shopping.”

Jack smiled softly. “That is a truly wonderful idea and one Christmas activity I’m completely on board for.” He paused and held up a hand. “No, no jokes about already being on board, please, and thank you.

“Aw, come on, man. You can’t put that out there and not expect me to make the joke. That just hurts,” Mark grumbled while everyone else laughed.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Jack, are you in here?” Mark called as he stepped into the geology lab.

“Right here,” Jack said from the end of the room next to the ChemCam.

“Are you ready for me?”

Jack turned and gestured to the table in the center of the lab that was currently covered in sample bags. “Right there.”

Mark stepped up to the table and looked at the array of bags. “These are the samples from my drive to Ares I. What happened to them?”

“What do you mean?” 

“Why are they like this?” Mark swept his arm above the table. “I could have sworn I put them in better order than this. Then again, it was a crazy drive. Anyway, what do you need me to do with them?”

“Well, putting them back in order would be the first thing,” Jack said. “They were better organized, but I have been looking at them. I’ve picked and chosen specimens that look really interesting and begun testing on those. So, now they need to go back in order for the trip to Earth and for NASA for the other geologists.”

“Gotcha. I’ll start there. Mind if I plug into my laptop and listen to some music while I work?”

Jack shrugged. “As long as you don’t sing along.”

“I’ll do my best.”

The two worked at their own tasks for a while. Mark occasionally began to hum but would catch himself and stop. He held up a sample bag and looked at the rock within.

“What are you thinking?” Jack asked. When Mark didn’t respond, he tapped the other man on the shoulder and asked again.

“I think I remember picking up this rock. Do we have a map of my path?”

“NASA does for sure,” the geologist replied. “You might email Mindy.”

“Of course, Mindy, my personal savior. When I get done shopping for the kids this evening, I should look for something special for her. I’ll email her now, then finish up getting these in order.”

“When you’re done, if you do remember anything about where or why you chose them. It would be good to have that information.”

“I took pictures of each rock in its place and the area around it. I can make a master list and match it to the sample bag numbers, if that would be helpful,” Mark offered.

“Helpful?” Jack’s eyes opened wide. “Absolutely! I don’t know why we didn’t think of this before. We definitely want to see each rock in its natural habitat, for lack of a better term. Wait, it just came to me, in situ. I have no idea how I could have forgotten that. I use it regularly in my work. I just went blank there for a minute. Anyway, it would be excellent if you could make that list.”

“I’ll get to work on that. It might take a few days,” Mark warned the geologist, “but I promise I’ll get it done.”

“That would be amazing. I know the team back on Earth will love it too.”

Mark nodded and turned to his computer. A few minutes later, he looked up at the other man. “Jack?”

“Yes?”

“Would it help if I sent you the Christmas calendar I made? Sorry for the change of subject, but I was just thinking you might like it better if you knew ahead of time what the activities are that I’ve planned for each day. That way, you can decide ahead of time if you want to participate; you don’t have to wait until I tell everyone else.”

“That’s nice of you, but it’s really not a big deal,” Jack said. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, but thanks. If I change my mind, I’ll let you know. In the meantime, we should keep working and think about what toys to get for those kids.”

“Yes, boss,” Mark replied with a wink.

~~~~~~~~~~

“So, how do we do this?” Marianne asked. “Do we all create our own lists of toys and things and then compile them into one list, or do we use the big screen and shop together?”

“Why not both?” Mark suggested. “We can start individually, and then in, say, thirty minutes, we work together.

“Is there any particular age range of kids we’re buying gifts for?” Marianne asked,

“That’s a good question,” Alannah noted. “Do we have a list of the children who will be in the hospital over Christmas?”

“There are kids, who the doctors and nurses are sure will be there. Others may be released, and still more may be admitted,” Mark answered. “At least that’s what Annie was told when she inquired. She said the hospital administrator suggested we buy a variety of gifts for kids from two to eighteen.”

“I’ll take the toddlers,” Pat announced. “I love buying toys for my siblings’ kids.”

“You can have them. I wouldn’t know where to start with two-year-olds,” Jack commented. “I’ll take the teenage boys.”

“Let’s split them,” Lawrence suggested. “You want the 13-15 or 16-18 year olds?”

“I’ll take the older kids,” the geologist said.

“I’ll take the same-age girls,” Taylor volunteered.

“Then I’ll take the younger teen girls,’ Marianne said.

Alannah chuckled, “Well, Mark, I guess that leaves us with the elementary school crowd.”

“Works for me,” he responded. “No gift cards, anyone.”

“Not even for the upper teenagers?” Jack asked.

“No, not even for them,” Mark responded. “I know they may enjoy choosing their own gifts, but chances are that’s all their parents will be able to buy for them this year.”

“Good point,” the other man conceded.

“Make a master list with links on a document that we can combine into one final list,” Mark advised. 

Taylor put a hand up. “Do we have any idea how many gifts we should be buying?”

“Did you just…” Mark began to laugh. “You raised your hand to get my attention.” 

“Hey,” she retorted. “It worked.”

“Uh-huh,” he chuckled. “No, we don’t have a number. If we overbuy, Annie will find somewhere else to donate them.”

“Perhaps to families living in shelters,” Marianne suggested. “There are always families in shelters that can’t afford gifts, especially mothers in battered women’s shelters with their children.”

“Excellent idea,” Mark replied. “I’ll pass that idea on to Annie. Now, get shopping.”

The next half hour passed in near silence.

Mark stood and stretched. “How’s it going? Everyone done?”

“Not even close,” Taylor said. She was followed by a chorus of “me neithers.”

“Ok, then, I’m making hot chocolate,” Mark announced. “Who wants one?”

He counted hands, made the hot chocolate, and passed it out, then leaned back against the counter, drinking his own and smiling at the heads bent over computer screens.

“I had a thought,” Marianne said a bit later.

“What?”

“We’re not buying for the babies, and I understand that. They won’t be old enough to appreciate it, but what about the parents? I know you said no gift cards. How about gift cards for the parents with babies in the NICU or PICU? They probably could use some food or other supplies, especially those who are in Houston but don’t live there. I know the Ronald McDonald House has rooms and food, but it still might be nice for them to have a gift card to go out to eat or order food in, or maybe gift cards to buy presents for their other children.”

“Outstanding thinking,” Alannah acknowledged.

“I wish I’d thought of it,” Mark said. “As wonderful as this is, I’m pretty tired. I’m going to head to bed. If you all send me your lists. I’ll combine them into one and send it on to Annie tomorrow.”

“Thanks for this, Mark. I’d forgotten how good it feels to give to others,” Lawrence commented. “It’s been a few years since I’ve done it; I’ve just been too busy with the mission prep and the mission itself.”

“Thanks, Mark!” The others chimed in.

He waved a hand and headed for the ladder.

“Is there anything we can do to make this holiday even better for him?” Taylor wondered aloud. 

“He’s doing so much for himself and for us.”

“I think the best thing we can do is just keep participating in his activities,” the commander responded.

“I can do that,” Taylor said.

“Even I can do that,” Jack replied and ducked his head when the others turned to look at him. “Just don’t tell Mark; I think he’s getting a kick out of trying to appease me.”

“And you’re enjoying him trying,” Pat accused with a laugh. 

“Maybe,” came the chuckled response.

Chapter Text

December 4, 2040

“So what are we doing today?” Taylor asked Mark at breakfast.

“And when?” Jack wanted to know.

“Umm, coffee,” Mark replied sleepily, pointing to his still full mug.

Jack grimaced. “What does that mean?”

“It means, don’t talk to him until he’s finished his coffee,” Taylor sighed. “No use asking again, we’ll get the same answer, and he’ll just get grumpier if we keep bothering him.”

“Ok then. Guess I’ll just wait until later to find out,” Jack replied. “I need to get to the lab.”

“You really can’t wait just a few minutes?” the pilot questioned.

“I could, but I do want to maximize the time I have left. He can always tell me when he joins me, unless he’s waiting for later, like dinner.”

At that, Mark grunted and pointed to the geologist.

“Dinner?” Taylor asked.

Mark grunted again.

“That answers that,” Jack said. “See you later.”

“Guess I have to wait until dinner to find out what we’re doing,” Taylor noted with a small frown.

Mark just nodded his head and took a drink from his mug, hiding a smirk at his crewmates’ frustration.

~~~~~~~~~~

Dinner time arrived. Taylor sat down at the table with her food, looking at Mark with barely concealed expectation. He ignored her and continued eating. She rolled her eyes and began eating.

Watney waited until everyone was seated and eating before he spoke. “Would you rather be Santa for a day or the Grinch for a day?”

“Santa, of course,” Taylor answered first.

“Naturally,” Marianne agreed. “Why would anyone want to be the Grinch?”

“It could be fun,” Jack argued. 

“Fun?” Pat said in disbelief. “How would that be fun?”

“Think about it,” Jack prodded. “You can be nice all the time. You can be like Santa every day, but you can’t be grumpy and grinchy all of the time. That’s just not ok. Still, to be like Jim Carrey’s Grinch and not just be grumpy, but to play pranks on people and just be all around ridiculous for one day, with permission. I think it would be a blast.”

“You would,” Taylor scoffed.

“I don’t know,” Lawrence put in. “I think he has a point.”

“Naturally,” the pilot’s eyes rolled as she responded.

“Commander, what about you?” Mark asked.

“Santa, it has to be Santa, sorry gentlemen. I think seeing the joy on kids' faces as you give them presents. Just imagining the smiles on kids’ faces as we went through and made the list of gifts yesterday made me happy. Actually, being Santa for a day would be so amazing,” Alannah replied.

“But imagine the letdown,” Jack said, “when you don’t get to keep doing it.”

“But you get to remember the good feelings for a lifetime,” Marianne rebutted.

“Ok, time for another one,” Mark interrupted, “or we’ll never get through the list I have.”

“How many of these do you have?” Pat asked.

“Only 13.”

“13? We’re gonna be here a while,” Jack said.

“No one has to stay for all 13,” Mark declared. “Leave whenever you want. No big deal.”

“Ok, next,” Taylor prompted.

“Would you rather be one of Santa’s elves or one of Santa’s reindeer?”

“I mean, being able to fly would be awesome,” Pat said, “but do we only get to do that one day a year, and they do have to fly through all kinds of weather. I don’t know. This isn’t an easy choice.”

“But the elves work like every day of the year building toys,” Alannah pointed out. “I’m a workaholic, and I’m the first to admit it, but that’s too much. We don’t even know if they get weekends. Do they get a break after Christmas, or do they start immediately on the 26th for the next year? We see the party they throw after midnight in The Polar Express, and the party in Prep and Landing, but do they go right to work the next day?”

“Yeah,” Lawrence chimed in. “In Nightmare Before Christmas, the Mayor and Jack have to start planning for the next Halloween on November 1st. It’s probably the same in Christmas town.”

“Are we just assuming that Jack Skellington and the Halloweentown gang really exist and are in the same world as Santa Claus?” Pat wondered.

“Why not?” Jack answered. “If we can believe Santa is real, why not Jack and the gang? I vote reindeer, for what it’s worth. I think I’d rather fly and travel the world, no matter the weather, than make toys and sing all the time.”

“Yeah, I guess me too,” Pat said.

Heads around the table nodded. 

Mark smiled. “I’m with you all on that one, and since I didn’t answer the first one, Santa. It has to be Santa.”

“That is pretty much what you’re doing with all of these activities for us,” Marianne pointed out.

“True,” he nodded. “Ok, so, would you rather get one big gift or ten small gifts?”

“I like opening things, so small gifts for me,” Taylor proclaimed.

Jack and Pat spoke at the same time. “One big gift.”

“Yeah, I think one big gift,” Alannah agreed.

Lawrence considered for a moment before he said, “I’m with Taylor. Half the fun for me is the opening, so the ten small gifts would be more fun.”

“Big gift for me too,” Marianne answered.

“I changed my mind, if you had the right person giving the gifts,” Alannah began to explain, “they could take the parts of one big gift and wrap it in ten small boxes so you get the big and small both.”

“Commander wins that question, and I’m with her,” Mark declared.

“Wait, is this a competition for the best answer?” Lawrence asked.

Mark shrugged. “Not really, but you have to admit that was a good answer.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“Now, would you rather cook Christmas dinner by yourself or clean up the kitchen afterward by yourself?”

“Ugh, neither. I’ll just stay home,” Lawrence jumped in immediately. “I hate cooking, and I hate cleaning. That’s why I eat out so often when I’m home alone.”

Taylor shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Of course. Why does this not surprise me? I mean, I’m always cleaning up your trash here.”

“And I greatly appreciate it,” he said sweetly.

“Whatever. I’d rather clean,” Taylor went on to say. “I usually get overstimulated by all the people. I don’t mind helping to cook, but I don’t want to do it all by myself. I will help other people. I’m also not a great cook, so it’s better if somebody tells me what to do and I just follow their directions. It’s easier that way and better for everyone, taste-wise. But cleaning can be done while I’m listening to music or listening to the chatter from the other room. I’m alone with my thoughts, and I can kind of recollect myself before going back and interacting with everyone.”

“I would never have known that about you,” Alannah commented. “You’re always so outgoing here with us and at the NASA events before the mission.”

“Yeah, but as soon as those were over,” the pilot explained, “I was going home and staring at a blank screen for a while. I just turned on the TV and stared. And here it’s just the seven of us—that’s different. My family gets together for Christmas, and there are like 30 or 40 people, and I’m really not exaggerating. I promise you my parents each have like five or six siblings—I don’t know right now, I can’t remember—but yeah. So we get all of them and all my cousins, and it’s just a lot of people in one house and a lot of noise, and… it’s too much.”

“Honestly,” Marianne said, “mine is almost the opposite. I like the people. I like spending time. I hate cleaning. I like cooking. Cooking is almost like meditation to me, so doing that alone would be fine. The cooking part. Somebody else has to serve it, right? They have to put it on the table—I’m assuming that anyway—so I could do that alone, and then I’d be prepared to go and enjoy the craziness of all the other people as we sit and we eat. And then I wouldn’t have to clean because I did one, so I didn’t do the other. And in my house, that’s the way it always worked: whoever cooked didn’t clean, and whoever cleaned didn’t cook. So, you know, keeping things fair and all that.”

Pat grumbled, “I don’t want to do either. But if I have to choose… I really don’t know. I like to cook, but it’s one thing to cook for just me or for me and a date. To cook for 15–20 people like my family? That’s a lot of work. I mean, if I can cheat and order in some of the stuff and just make, like, the turkey or whatever else, the main dishes, that’s one thing. I actually like cleaning less than cooking. So… I guess I have to go with cooking.”

“Add me to the list of cooks,” Alannah said. “I enjoy cooking, and I’d rather do that than clean. I want to just sit, relax, and digest after a big meal.”

“I don’t think I’d get a choice,” Jack responded. “My mother does the cooking. My mother has always done the cooking for every holiday—always. Or at least as long as I can remember. She took over from my grandmother when I was pretty young. My grandma used to do it; there are pictures of us during the holidays at her house when I was little. But Mom’s done it for years and years and years. She barely even lets her sisters and sisters-in-law help. So I’d have to say I’d clean, just by default. It’s kind of what I’ve done anyway. Usually, I snag one or two cousins, and we do it. So I’m not totally alone, but… mostly alone. So it wouldn’t be that big a difference.”

“My answer is kind of similar,” Mark said, “except my dad did all of the cooking at our house. Mom has always joked that she could burn water. So, Dad did all of the holiday cooking, or, you know, usually people brought things. We almost always had a potluck holiday meal. Christmas, Thanksgiving, and Easter. The only time we didn’t was Mother’s Day, and then we went out to eat at a restaurant. My dad even barbecued for Father’s Day. So I did a lot of the cleaning. I can do that. I can cook. I used to cook a lot more than the ex, but it’s not my favorite thing to do. I do it because, you know, food means living. Which I know now more than anyone else, huh? So yeah. Next: Would you rather go on a sleigh ride or go ice skating?”

“Well, both of them require you to be outdoors in the cold,” Taylor said. “I love looking at the snow, and I don’t mind running out for a few minutes and making a snowman. But I’m afraid I’d break something if I were ice skating. And I don’t know… a sleigh ride? I mean, unless you’re actually going somewhere. I know there were a couple of light displays when I was a kid where you got in the sleigh, and you could ride—except that they always seemed to go really fast, like they passed the cars. It was always better to ride in the car, ’cause you got more time to look at the lights. You’re going to force me to pick one, though, aren’t you? I can’t just say none.”

“Well, I mean, that is the idea,” Mark replied. “It is ‘would you rather’—one or the other, you know.”

“Ugh, fine. Ice skating. I’d just have to wear knee pads and have help. You know, one of those little kid things that they slide around, skate around with, the thing in front of them they hold on to like a walker.”

The rest of the crew giggled and chuckled.

“When we get back, and we’re cleared,” Alannah told Taylor, “I’ll take you and teach you. I can make sure you’re safe. I love ice skating, especially on an outdoor rink in the winter. You see the stars. If it’s one of the decorated ones for Christmas, even better.”

Marianne grimaced. “The injuries from ice skating, the sheer number of injuries from ice skating. People who have to be taken care of at the hospital. With the number of broken bones? No, no. I’m going on a sleigh ride.”

Jack shrugged. “Don’t think I have a preference on this one. Really, I don’t think I do. A coin toss for me. Sure, ice skating. Why not? I’ll go with the group.”

“It kind of depends on how long we have to do either activity,” Pat clarified. “I’ll ice skate, just not for very long. I want to be able to sit and watch other people who are better at it, have some hot chocolate, and maybe sit by a fire. I’m all for that.”

“All right, Lawrence, that leaves you,” Mark pointed out.

“I guess… ice skating. I’ll go along with everyone. Sure, why not?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m not going to be allowed on ice skates for a long time,” Mark said. “Not until the doctors are absolutely sure that I won’t break every bone in my body. So I guess I’ll go with the sleigh ride, and it can end at the rink where I get to watch you all skate. And I’ll sit with Pat when he’s done and have that hot chocolate. Sounds good to me. So now we’re halfway through the list, cause this is number seven. Would you rather make a snow angel or have a snowball fight?”

Almost as one, the entire crew said, “Snowball fight!”

“Okay, well, that one was easy. Would you rather have pointy ears like an elf or a red nose like Rudolph?”

“Again, there was almost no hesitation.” The crew responded nearly as one. “Ears.”

“It’s just easier,” Taylor said. “I can hide them with my hair.”

“Or with a hat,” Pat added.

“And think about the options for conventions,” Taylor continued. “It could be a Vulcan, or an elf from Lord of the Rings, or any of the other fantasy properties.”

“You might be better off being a Hobbit,” Mark told the pilot.

She stuck her tongue out at him and rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

“All right then, number nine.”

“Wait,” Marianne called. The doctor continued, “You haven’t answered the last two. If we’re doing this, Mark, you have to do it too. Just ’cause it’s your idea doesn’t mean you get out of all the answering.”

“I just kind of figured my answers would be obvious,” he replied.

“Well, yeah, there’s no question you’re going for a snowball fight,” Jack said. “Maybe the first one to throw?”

Mark grinned. “Of course. And I’m actually with you all with the ears. Taylor kind of read my mind there. I’ll join her at the conventions just for the fun of it.”

“Okay, so now you can read number nine.”

“Thanks for the permission, Doc,” he intoned.

“Anytime.” She smiled.

Mark bit back a chuckle and continued, “Would you rather spend Christmas alone or spend Christmas with a stranger?”

“That one’s tougher,” Taylor replied.

“Yeah,” Jack agreed. “I don’t necessarily like being with tons of people or strangers, but I also don’t necessarily like being alone. And the thought of being alone on Christmas—oh.” he grimaced. “Sorry, Mark.”

He shrugged. “I’m not alone anymore. And yes, it was tough. The first two years were the worst, when I had no contact with anyone back here—home, I mean. Once I had contact, it was easier because at least I had videos and I could email. I was still technically alone, but it wasn’t as bad. Last Christmas, you guys were almost there, so we could talk almost in real time, and that made it easier too. And honestly, for me, even though we knew each other, we didn’t know each other well. So that really kind of was like spending Christmas with strangers. No offense.”

“None taken,” the commander replied. “We were strangers. You’re right. As for me, I don’t know… I think it has to be strangers as well, just because I don’t want to be alone on a holiday.”

“Me either,” Taylor finally said. “As long as it’s only a few strangers and not a lot of them. Like, if it’s just a couple two to three I could deal with that. That’ll probably be better. It might be kind of fun. You never know.”

The other crew members all nodded in agreement.

“Oh, this one’s bound to stir up some controversy. Can’t wait for the arguments here,” Mark chuckled. “Eggnog or hot chocolate?”

“Hot chocolate!” Taylor yelled before anyone else had a chance to respond. “Eggnog is gross!”

“There truly is something wrong with you,” Jack noted. “Eggnog is amazing, especially with rum.”

“I’ll drink eggnog,” Lawrence said, “but if given the choice, I do prefer hot chocolate, also with rum or Irish cream.”

“Homemade eggnog is the best,” Marianne insisted. “I have an excellent recipe. I’ll make it for all of you next Christmas. Maybe we can change Taylor’s mind.”

“You’ll have to change mine too,” Pat put in, “because I also don’t like it. I’m not a big hot chocolate drinker either. I prefer my coffee, but if I have to choose, it’ll be the cocoa.”

“I’m breaking the rules,” Alannah said, “and I don’t care. I’m claiming the rights of the commander to supersede the rules of the game. I’m making hot chocolate and using eggnog fresh from the fridge to cool it down to a drinkable level.”

“That’s absolutely breaking the rules,” Mark replied, “but I’m going to allow it because it’s also an excellent idea, and I’m stealing it for my answer too. Now, would you rather live in a giant gingerbread house or ride on the Polar Express?”

“Is it only one trip on the Polar Express?” Jack wanted to know. “My answer depends on whether or not it’s a nonstop ride like that old movie and show. What was it called, snow something?”

“Snowpiercer,” Alannah said. “It was interesting.”

“Yeah, so is it one trip or ongoing?” Jack asked again.

“It doesn’t say,” Mark returned. 

“Well, we have to decide on an answer, because Jack’s right,” Lawrence asserted. “The answer will be different if it’s one ride versus a nonstop ride.”

Marianne pursed her lips and added. “The question does seem lopsided if it’s a single ride versus living in a giant gingerbread house. Living means long-term, whereas ‘ride on the Polar Express’ could mean just once.”

“Yeah, I mean, you’d really have to either love gingerbread or hate trains to not choose the Polar Express,” Pat observed. “And even if you love gingerbread, I’d think you’d still get tired of living in it all the time.”

“I do love gingerbread,” the commander said, “and I think I’d get tired of it.”

“I know you didn’t make this list, Mark,” Jack commented. “There’s no way you made a question this bad.”

“And what if I did?” Watney queried.

“You didn’t,” Jack insisted.

“What if I did?” Mark reiterated.

“Did you?” Taylor challenged.

Mark didn’t respond for several seconds. Finally, he gave in. “No. You’re right, it is a dumb question. I didn’t even think about it when I found the list. We can skip this one or rephrase it if you want.”

“Let’s rephrase,” Alannah suggested. “Live in a giant gingerbread house for Christmas or ride on the Polar Express, because making it a non-stop ride or a permanent home just sounds miserable all around.”

“Fair enough,” Mark nodded. “What the commander said.”

“Polar Express,” Lawrence answered, “it would be cool to go to the North Pole.”

“As long as I don’t have to be in the car with the know-it-all kid, I’ll take the ride,” Jack said.

“Gingerbread house for me,” Alannah replied. “Bonus, it would already be decorated, one less holiday chore.”

“You’ve convinced me,” Pat said with a nod. “I’ll go with the gingerbread house, too.”

“Taylor, what about you? Mark said, “and Doc, I haven't heard your answer yet either.”

The pilot sighed. “I don't know. I like gingerbread. I don't know if I like it enough to live in it, though. I do like the idea of not having to do all the decorating. I do enjoy decorating.” She paused. “I also like the idea of the Polar Express train ride. It looks like a lot of fun, well, except for that whole crossing the ice thing. That looks really terrifying, even in the car, not on the front of the train like they are in the movie. I don't think I want to do that part. If it is just a regular ride to the North Pole and we get the cool waiters singing and dancing, and the hot chocolate, and we get to see the First Gift of Christmas and the elves dancing and singing. Yes, I'll go with the Polar Express ride.”

“Doc?”

“I think I'm in for the train ride too. What about you, Mark?”

“Yeah, I think I'm in for the train ride, but not because I don't like gingerbread. I like it a lot. I think I would be the problem. I think I'd probably start eating the house, and then maybe I wouldn't have a house left. It is awfully cold in the winter, even in Houston, but especially if I'm living in Chicago. I really don't want to lose the heat in the house that is not totally there. Would you rather shop for one thousand gifts or wrap one thousand gifts?”

Five voices immediately said, “Shop.”

“Yesterday was a lot of fun,” Alana sighed, “in part because I know I don't have to wrap those presents. Somebody else is going to. Actually, I do feel a little bit bad about that. I love the idea that the kids who may not get gifts because parents are so busy or so concerned with paying hospital bills will be able to give them a gift. But a part of me does feel just a little bit of guilt that somebody else has to wrap all those presents.”

“Okay, Lawrence, you want to wrap? I mean, I'm guessing anyway,” Mark commented. “You didn't answer.”

“One thousand is a lot, yes, but I enjoy wrapping. It is kind of a mindless chore that I can do. Put on the TV movies, and then I can just wrap. I don't have to necessarily pay tons of attention. I can already have a tag written out; just slap it on as I go. I like the nice, precise corners on the boxes at the end, making them look totally neat and orderly and professional. And I am really good at it. I had a job as a present wrapper when I was in high school.”

Mark nodded and started to laugh.

“You're trying to picture that, aren't you?” Lawrence shook his head. “Somewhere at home, my mom might actually have a picture of me wrapping presents. I know she has pictures of the presents I wrapped because she liked them so much, especially compared to my dad's wrapping and my brother's. What is next?”

“What is last, you mean?” Mark said. “This is it: number thirteen. On Christmas, would you rather be accidentally locked in at the mall or be stuck at the airport?”

“Stuck at the airport means I'm trying to get somewhere, and I cannot be with my family or friends or on vacation or whatever I'm trying to do,” Jack considered. “Whereas being stuck at the mall means I didn't finish my shopping on time. I don't know about which I’d rather do, but let's be honest, I am probably more likely to be stuck at the mall, because I am definitely a last-minute shopper.”

“Ugh, this goes back to the strangers thing,” Taylor said. “Either place is going to be packed. I'm not going to find a lot of space to be alone to decompress. Both places have food. Now wait.” She stopped, tilted her head to the side, and continued. “If I'm accidentally locked in the mall, then it probably isn't crowded, but that takes me back to being alone. I know I should probably consider these just one at a time instead of connected, but he already asked the other one, so I have to keep that in mind. I don't want to be alone, but if I accidentally get locked in, chances are pretty high that somebody else did, too. I'm going with the mall.”

“People locked in at the mall might be slightly less grumpy than those locked in or stuck at the airport,” Pat said. “Then again, being stuck at the airport doesn't necessarily mean for as long. The plane is still going to leave eventually. You're stuck at the mall, locked in. It is not going to be open on Christmas Day. You're there until at least the twenty-sixth. Give me the airport.”

“I could be of more use at the airport,” Marianne observed. “I could help people who need it. You never know what is going to happen when you have that many people in a crowd. And yes, I would still get where I'm going eventually. It doesn't say ‘stuck forever’, so airport.”

Lawrence stood up and stretched. “The mall means fewer people. Straight up, it means more room to walk around. It means not dealing with other grumpy people. I mean, I could go hang out at Santa's Village, where Santa usually takes pictures with the kids. Throw my own little Christmas party. I'm going with the mall.”

“That just leaves you, Commander,” Mark prompted.

“I have to go to the airport on the chance that I get to go ahead and get on a plane and go where I'm going.

“You know, a couple of years ago, I might have said the mall,” Mark admitted, “and I might get overwhelmed with all the people at the airport. You all know it took me a while to get used to having just the six of you around. And I would be lying if I said I'm not anxious about returning to Earth and being surrounded by people, even the people I know and love, like my parents and my crew, and you guys. But I think I would still rather be with people than risk being alone.”

“This was really fun, Mark,” Taylor said. “Thanks.”

He shrugged in response, then nodded as the others also thanked him. A sly grin crossed his face as Jack seemed to sneak out of the rec room and up the ladder. He would get rid of that humbug spirit one day at a time.

Chapter Text

December 5, 2040 

As lunch ended, Alannah spoke to her crew. “I know we don’t usually all have the same lunch, and I asked you to be here together. There is a reason for that. We have cleared the next hour for the activity for today, but that means you have all evening to yourself, and you can have dinner whenever you want. This will count as our meal together for the day.”

She waited, but as expected, her crew was professional, and there was no grumbling. “Mark, would you care to explain?”

“NASA is hosting a big food drive. There are always food drives at Thanksgiving. Scouting for America always does a big one in November. People donate, and it is wonderful, but those food bank shelves then empty out at that time, and there is not always much left for Christmas. We addressed gifts for kids specifically for the children's hospital. Toys for Tots also takes care of so many kids with toys, but we do not want families to be hungry on Christmas either. So NASA is hosting a food drive. Our job, our goal today, is to create a video to convince people to dig into their pockets and donate some cans and other things.”

“What other things?” Pat asked.

“Things like can openers,” Marianne guessed. “Bottled water, powdered milk. Things that you do not normally think of. Utensils would be good, maybe plates.”

“You have done this before,” Mark observed. The doctor just nodded. “Doc is exactly right. Everyone thinks about the food. Nobody thinks about how people who need food might eat that food. The other thing that can be helpful is a hot pot to boil water in. You can make macaroni and cheese without butter if you use powdered milk and water, but you have to have a place to boil the water, and not everyone does.”

“Oh, so something like those sandwich makers, right? They just plug in, and you put the bread and the ingredients in to make a grilled sandwich? I had one of those in college,” Jack said. “I used that thing all the time.”

“Yes, that would be good, or a standalone single electric burner to plug in that would allow them to cook. But definitely plates, knives, forks, and spoons. If they have a way to cook, great, but they may not have that. Can openers to open the cans for the soup, maybe. They can take the peanut butter and bread, but they need a way to spread it, or they need a place to eat it, so they are not getting crumbs everywhere. Anyway, we are going to share a list. Well, NASA will. But we want to encourage people.”

“Was this your idea?” Lawrence asked. 

Mark shot the other man a short glare, then shrugged and shook his head. “No, I wish I could say it was. It was all Annie and Mindy. I think the food drive is Mindy’s idea. Our making the video was Annie’s idea, because, of course, she thinks I’m perfect to be the campaign spokesperson. She’s going with the obvious. I know what it was to be hungry. However, I was able to grow my own food, which is the other thing. Not at this time of year necessarily, but to remind people that in the spring, pots and dirt and seeds are good. People can grow their own food if they have the place for it, and those are things that have a longer shelf life.”

“So you are actually the star of this video. We’re just here as backup,” Jack observed.

“I mean, kind of,” Mark acknowledged, “but you are supposed to talk too. It really is not supposed to be just me.”

“Right,” Alannah halted the conversation. “So take a few minutes. Everybody, think about what you might want to say. We will put it all together, and then we will record it and send it off to Annie, and we are done.”

The crew spread out around the rec room with their laptops, and each began to consider and type. Thirty minutes later, Alannah called them back together and asked them to share what they had come up with. After a few more minutes of negotiating and brainstorming, they each had a script. Lawrence set up the computer with the camera and aimed it at the couch. Mark sat front and center, Alannah to his left, and Taylor to his right. The other four crew members aligned themselves standing behind the couch.

“Hey, Earthlings,” Mark began, “it’s your favorite Martian here, Mark Watney. The Ares IV crew and I would like to talk to you about an opportunity. NASA has a way to show the Christmas spirit to your neighbors.”

Alannah continued, “This holiday season, every NASA campus across the United States is hosting a food drive for the food banks in their city and those close to them.”

“We know many of you just donated food last month for Thanksgiving,” Marianne acknowledged, “and that is wonderful. We appreciate it, as do those suffering from food insecurity. But food banks are reporting the supplies on their shelves are rapidly dwindling.”

“So we are asking you, next time you go to the grocery store, buy a can or two, and maybe a can opener. You have to have a way to open those cans of beans, after all. Pork and beans were always my favorite,” Pat said with a smile. “Loved them as a kid. Couldn’t open them on my own. I didn’t know how, but my mom could do it for me with our can opener.”

“So grab a can or two, or some boxed food items. Do not forget the water. Powdered milk is really helpful too,” Lawrence added. “Every little thing that you can donate will make someone’s Christmas better, because children will go to bed with full stomachs.”

“Let us help everyone have a happy holiday season,” Jack urged. “You do not have to feed the world. Just one other family, or maybe a single person. One can of beans, one box of mac and cheese, or one ready-made meal may mean the difference between going to bed hungry of going to bed satisfied for a family.”

“And do not forget the babies,” Taylor pleaded. “Cans of formula, we know, are expensive, but they could make the difference for a hungry baby. Some jars of canned baby food, those little baby snacks, and do not forget those cute little baby spoons.”

“Those of you who don’t live near a NASA campus can donate money through a link online instead,” Alannah said. 

“We appreciate anything you can give. Those of you donating at a NASA campus just might be surprised at who you find there. Retired, active, and apprentice astronauts will be there to collect and thank you in person,” Mark announced. “Let’s make this a warm and happy December for everyone, and maybe a happy January, too.”

They all stayed in place for a few seconds until Lawrence ducked around behind the rest of the crew and stopped the recording.

“Excellent job, everyone. Thank you, and have a relaxing evening,” Alannah said.

“And no worries about tomorrow,” Mark declared. “I have it all taken care of; none of you has to do anything except show up to dinner.”

“Well, that’s certainly mysterious,” Marianne mused. 

“It’s Mark,” Pat said with a chuckle. “I think it’s what we all expect by now.”

Chapter Text

December 6, 2040

Mark woke up, rubbed his eyes, pushed the button on his watch to turn off the alarm, and moved across his room to grab the small bag he’d gotten ready before lying down for the night. He tiptoed down the hallway, though at 4:30 in the morning, there was no reason for anyone else to be in the lab module. Holding the bag between his teeth, he climbed the ladder to the central hub, pausing for just a moment to enjoy the floating before turning and making his way down the ladder into the rec/mess module.

Landing softly at the bottom, he looked around to be sure he was alone before crossing to the stockings hung on the wall. He began removing items from the bag he’d carried and placed a few in each stocking. Realizing he was never going to get back to sleep, he grabbed a bag of instant coffee, injected hot water, and took it with him to the cupola. He floated there, drinking his coffee, looking out for the small disk in the distance that was the moon. It was comforting to see. The growing moon each day was just further proof that he was almost home. 

The day he had first been able to see the moon with his eyes rather than with a scope, he had taken up residence in this very cupola and stayed all day, eyes watering as he stared. No one had been able to get him to budge from his place, though each member of the crew had tried. Alannah had finally told them all to just leave him, to let him be, to let him enjoy the view. She knew he’d come back to join them when he was ready, and he had.

Taylor had brought his dinner and stayed there floating next to him.

At least once a day, Mark found himself in the cupola checking to see how much larger the moon was and looking at the Earth beyond it. 

“Mark,” Taylor said softly. “You weren’t at breakfast.”

“No,” he replied. “I woke up early, so I decided to spend some time here. As much as I want to go home, I also know this will all be over soon. I want to enjoy it while I can.”

“Me too,” she said. “It’s easier for me, though, since most of my work is completed on the bridge; I get to see this all the time. I’m going to miss the view when I’m back on Earth.”

“What time is it?” Mark asked.

“After 8,” Taylor responded.

“I should get to work,” he said. “I have a lot to do today.”

“Really?” she asked skeptically. “I thought you had almost nothing to do. Wasn’t that what you told Jack when you volunteered to help him out?”

“Today is different,” Mark said.

“Why?”

“Because it is?”

“Why?” she pushed.

“It’s December 6th, that’s why,” he replied simply.

Taylor shook her head. “Oh yeah, that makes it all clear.”

Mark chuckled and floated away. 

~~~~~~~~~~

“Has anyone seen Mark?” Marianne asked as they all sat down at the table for dinner.

“Not since this morning,” Taylor replied.

“I passed him in the hallway a few hours ago,” Pat said.

“Same,” Lawrence chimed in. “It was just for a second. He was in a hurry, but I have no idea where he was going or why he was in a hurry.”

“What would you need to hurry to do here?” Jack wondered. 

Marianne considered. “He was feeling okay, wasn’t he?”

“Mark is fine,” Alannah assured them all as she joined them. “He’ll be here shortly. His to-do list today was a bit longer than usual.”

“I wondered why he didn’t come to my lab. He’s been with me the past few days working on the sample master list,” Jack said. “But what was he doing?

“I was running the monthly maintenance checklist for everyone,” Mark said.

“You were doing what?” Pat asked, shocked. “Why would you do that?

“It’s December sixth.”

“That is what you said this morning when I asked you why you were so busy,” Taylor commented. 

He nodded.

“Mark, what?” Taylor asked. “What does it mean that it is December sixth? Why is that important for you, being busy and doing the checklist?”

Mark shook his head. “Do none of you really know what December sixth is?”

“It is a day of December. The sixth day, to be exact,” Jack replied sarcastically.

Everyone else just stared.

Again, Mark shook his head. “Have you all never heard of Saint Nicholas Day?”

“Isn’t Saint Nicholas who Santa Claus is based on?” Lawrence asked. “He has a day of his own. What is that about?”

Mark sat down, accepting the tray that Taylor passed him. “I do not know the whole story. Saint Nicholas was a priest.”

“So this is something Catholic,” Pat said. “Well, no wonder I don’t know it.” 

Marianne said. “Me neither.”

“I am not Catholic either,” Mark said, “but I do know it. Do not ask why. I think it was just something my mom decided to do for fun when I was a kid.”

“Finish the story, Mark,” Alana urged.

“Yes, commander. Anyway,” he said, “Saint Nicholas was a priest. I could not even tell you where he was, wherever he was assigned, like what country specifically. The story goes that there was a family that needed money for dowries so the daughters could get married. They had no funds, no money at all. The dad was poor. He could barely afford to feed his four daughters, I think it was. Since they had no money for dowries, they couldn’t get married. Supposedly, Saint Nicholas gave them money; somehow, he left it in their shoes.”

“Their shoes?” Taylor asked.

“Their shoes,” Mark confirmed. “Like I said, I don’t know the whole story. I just know that my mom used to make me leave my shoes out on the night of the fifth, and when I got up on the sixth, there was candy in my shoes and sometimes a small toy. She always told me Saint Nicholas had been there. It didn’t make sense because, like I said, we’re not Catholic. I don’t know. But it was just kind of fun as a kid.”

“Okay,” Taylor said, “but there was no candy in my shoes. It also still doesn’t explain why you needed to do the checklist for all of us.”

Mark chuckled. “Well, I wasn’t going to go into every room and take your shoes out. If things had gone according to plan and I had been on Hermes with Ares III, I totally would have. I knew them well enough to sneak into their rooms and take their shoes. It wouldn’t have been a big deal. And as well as I have gotten to know you all over the last year, it’s just not the same. I am not barging into your rooms. The Ares III crew are more like my siblings for the most part, while you all are friends but not quite family yet. That doesn’t mean I didn’t leave you candy, though.”

“You did; I didn’t see it,” Lawrence said. “Where is it?”

“Well, I didn’t use your shoes. So where else might I have put candy for you to find?” Mark asked.

Taylor shrieked, jumped up from the table, and ran across the room. “The stockings! Here it is! Here it is! Here it is!”

“Yes. I figured stockings were the next best thing to shoes,” Mark said. “Besides, I think that is actually where the stockings came from. The idea is based on Saint Nicholas and the shoes. Again, I could be wrong. It has been a long time since I’ve heard the story or looked any of it up. I just thought it would be fun.”

“What is this?” Taylor asked, pulling out a folded piece of paper.

“You will have to read that later,” Mark said. “I thought you wanted to know why I was so busy doing the checklist today.”

“Oh yeah.” She bounced back across the room and sat again.

“One of the other ways to celebrate Saint Nicholas Day,” Mark explained, “is to do random acts of kindness. There’s not a lot I can do that is random here, but I thought I would do something nice for you. So I talked to the commander, and we contacted NASA, and they set it up for me to do the monthly maintenance checks, change out all the filters, and things. One less thing you all have to worry about.”

“Now that is really sweet,” Taylor said, jumping up again and giving Mark a hug.

“It was really nice, dude,” Pat said.

“Yeah, thanks,” Jack added. “Appreciate it. That gives me more time with the rocks.”

“I know. Thought it would,” Mark replied.

“So is that it for today then?” Lawrence asked.

“Yeah,” Mark said. “You can get your candy and stuff out of your stocking whenever you want. Or leave the candy there and take it out later when you want; it doesn’t matter.”

“But what is this?” Taylor asked again, holding up the folded piece of paper.

“Just read it. It is a little note,” Mark said.

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Not a big deal,” he insisted. “Just letting you know. That’s all.”

Taylor looked down at it, smiled, and tucked it into a pocket. “Is dinner wrapped up?”

Dinner wrapped up, the crew each went and emptied their stocking and headed off to their own places in the ship.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack made his way back to his lab, where he set the note down on a lab table. He tried to focus on the ChemCam, but he kept finding his attention drawn back to that folded sheet of paper. Finally, he gave up, walked back across the room, sat down on the stool, and picked up the note.

Jack
Thank you for being part of the group that rescued me. I don’t know what I would do without all of you. I know I don’t know you as well as the others, and I try to get to know everyone really well. You are a hard nut to crack. That is why I keep poking at you so much. Seriously, man, if I’m getting on your nerves, just tell me to shut up and go away. I understand. You won’t hurt my feelings.

I have enjoyed the few times we have talked, and I hope I have made your time in the lab easier with the rocks. Here's hoping you have a wonderful Christmas and that we stay in contact once we are back on Earth and done with all this NASA stuff.

Mark

~~~~~~~~~~~

Marianne had returned to her quarters, where she sat down and curled up with her legs under her on her bed. Opening the paper, she prepared herself for whatever ridiculousness might come.

Marianne
I don’t know how to thank you enough. I would not be here if it weren’t for you. Your help is why I am healthy. It is why I’m going to be able to walk when we land on Earth. It is why I’m going to be able to see my family and hug them and hold them. Your help is why I am able to talk about the problems that I faced and the issues I have had.

Seriously, anything you need when we get back to Earth, I owe you big. I will never be able to say thank you enough for taking care of me. But thank you.

Mark

~~~~~~~~~~

Lawrence settled down in the rec room with the computer ready to watch a show or two. First, he thought he would go ahead and read the note from Mark just to see what he had to say.

Lawrence
Larry, my man. Sorry. Had to. I know you don’t like the name. I won’t do it again. Well, I can’t promise I won’t do it again, but I will try not to. I’m going to come up with a nickname that you will let me use. I’m still pushing for Law-man.

I have really enjoyed getting to know you over the last almost a year. You have to come out to the bar with Beck and Martinez, and me. You are going to fit right in and have a blast. Thanks for all the times you helped me try and pull Jack out of his shell. One of these days, we will succeed. Maybe we can get him to the bar, too. I bet if we get a few beers into him, he’ll relax.

Mark

~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t that Pat didn’t trust Mark and his work; he just needed to see for himself that the monthly maintenance had been done correctly. He knew Mark could do it after all; Mark had been his predecessor as mechanical engineer on Hermes. For his own peace of mind, however, he needed to check, as it was officially his job now. Once he was done, Pat leaned against the wall, took Mark’s note from his pocket, and began to read.

Pat,

Now that you’ve double-checked my work… Hey, no worries, I’d do the exact same thing in your place.

Thank you for sharing your job with me for this trip home. I know how hard it is to give up any control over your duties. I also know you probably came behind me and redid everything, or at least double-checked it. Thank you for never pointing out any mistakes and letting me continue to try as I refamiliarized myself with the ship and just being human again. 

It was great to talk to someone who was truly interested in the things beyond botany that I did to survive while on Mars. Thank you for proofreading my thesis for my M.E. doctorate. I promise to give you credit when they print and bind it. Let me know when you get your thesis written, and I’ll return the favor. In the meantime, when we get back to Earth, I owe you a beer as soon as I’m cleared to drink.

Mark

~~~~~~~~~~

 Alannah completed all of her work for the evening and prepared for the following day before finally settling in the chair at the desk in her quarters and picking up the note from Mark 

Commander 

Thank you. It is simple and as complicated as that. Thank you. I know you didn’t really have a choice in coming to save me; it was part of your mission. But I do know that you added all of that work to your mission to make it successful. I’ve heard from Lewis and the rest of my crew just how much you and yours did to bring me home.

I’m still not sure it was worth it to save me; I’m just one person, and that was a ridiculous amount of money. Yes, I did a lot of science. Yes, we have a lot of rocks from areas we didn’t plan on exploring for ages. Now we can come back and learn more about Mars. But is it still worth the millions?

I’m meandering in a letter that’s supposed to just be a thank-you. Thank you for taking me in and making me part of your crew—not just someone to take care of, but someone who helped take care of everyone and everything else.

I remember meeting you back when we were training for Ares III. You all were our backups. I remember thinking you were pretty cool, but we didn’t spend much time together; obviously, you spent most of yours with Lewis and your crew. Still, I always knew that if something happened to Lewis, you would be able to step in and get us to Mars safely. I knew I could trust you.

It made it much easier when you were the one to come and get me and bring me home. I guarantee that as soon as my mother is done hugging the daylights out of me, she’s going to hug the stuffing out of you and the rest of the crew. But you are the commander, so you’ll be first. Again—thank you.

Mark 

~~~~~~~~~~

Taylor floated in the cupola, looking out at the moon. Mark’s note floated in front of her. Every time it drifted away, she grabbed it and centered it back up. She hadn’t opened it yet. She was the biggest sap on the crew; everyone knew it. She knew she was liable to cry, because she also knew, as much as Mark tried to hide it and cover it with jokes, that he was also a sap.

Taylor,

I was raised as an only child. I always wanted siblings. I know I asked my parents for them. I've never asked them why it didn't work out. Never seemed to matter, and once I was old enough to understand just how that would have happened, I didn't want to ask. 

And somehow, with all my time in NASA, I've collected several siblings, and now the sisters outnumber the brothers three to two. You know, I've talked to you about the fact that Johansson is like a little sister to me, and Karen Rhodes is a big sister. Well, now I have an additional little sister in you. 

I think I would have spent the majority of this trip back home alone if it hadn't been for you constantly badgering me and pulling me out of my shell the way I've been so desperately trying to do with Jack for the last few months. You're the one I could count on to have fun with, to be silly with, to just sit with me when I need someone to just sit with me. I know the others would do that too, but it's different with you. You and I very much have the same relationship I have with Beth. I can tease you like I can tease her, and you can tease me back. You can't stay mad at me, and not that you've ever made me mad, but I can't imagine staying mad at you. 

All this to say, when we get back to Earth, you better not disappear, cuz I plan on having family dinners regularly and I expect you to be part of them. Someday, if you decide to get married and have kids, bring them along. I'll be Uncle Mark. It's unlikely I'll ever be a dad unless I adopt, and with my chances of cancer, I'm not sure anybody would let me adopt. So, let me be Uncle Mark. Don't worry, you're not the only one I'm nagging about that. Beck and Johansson are getting the same prodding. 

Thank you, little sis, for literally being the one to get me off Mars and for being the one to bring me back to life as a human, as an Earthling, and not a Martian.

Love you,

Mark

Taylor sniffed and wiped her eyes. A moment later, she felt Mark's arms around her. She let him hug her for just a moment before she pulled away, turned around, and smacked him on the arm 

“You jerk,” she sniffed again. “Why'd you have to go and be all sweet and emotional and stuff? And you knew I'd cry, that's why you're here, right? You did it on purpose.” 

“And I meant every word,” he said, for once not even a hint of a joke or laughter in his voice. “I didn't need another sister, but now I have one. I'm also serious that you’d better not go disappearing on me. From what I know of all my friends who have siblings, they get along with their chosen siblings much better than their birth siblings.” 

“You have more than three siblings, you know, I mean sisters,” Taylor corrected herself. 

“Who else are you counting?” he asked. 

“Well, Lewis, for starters,” she replied. “Isn't she like a big sister? It's not like she's your mom.” 

Mark nodded. “Yeah, I guess you're right.” 

“And isn't Mindy living at your parents’ house and watching over you all the time and taking care of you? That sounds like a sister, too.” 

“Geez, everyone around me just wants to be my sister or my friend. I'm never going to get a date again, am I?” he whined. 

Again, she smacked him on the arm. “Of course you are, you dummy. Your bigger problem is going to be who wants to date you for you and who wants to date you to date the Martian.” 

“Damn, that's a depressing thought.”

“No worries,” she smiled. “You’ve got all these sisters to watch out for you. That'll be our job. You know that's the job of siblings and friends anyway. You’ve probably done it for others yourself. So you just need to bring by whomever you want to date, and we’ll approve them for you.” 

“But you’ll also do one of two things: either send them running, screaming for the hills, cuz y'all could be terrifying, in a good way,” he said quickly, “or they'll be so fascinated with the whole astronaut famous thing that they’ll want to stick around for you all, too.” 

“Nah, those we can scare away, too. We'll find the genuine ones for you. We could even make a dating profile if you want,” she offered.

“Okay, now you're going too far, and I don't think so. If I don't find someone, I don't find someone. It's not the end of the world. I tried being married once, and it didn't work out. I'm honestly not in a rush to do it again.” 

“Whatever you say, big brother,” she grinned and hugged him. “Merry Christmas, a little early.” 

He hugged her back. “Happy Saint Nicholas Day.”

Chapter Text

December 7, 2040 

“So, my original plan for today had to be scrapped,” Mark announced.

“What was it?” Marianne asked as she heated her breakfast. 

“I’d like to know, too, since you didn’t change the calendar you shared with me,” Alannah commented as she looked around the room to see all seven members of the crew. Over the past week, the crew had begun coming together for breakfast as well as dinner and often lunch, all thanks to Mark and his daily activity announcements. They never knew when he was going to make the announcement for sure, and no one wanted to miss it.

“Sorry about that, Commander,” Mark winced. “I went to check last night and realized there just wasn’t enough left to do what I planned.”

“And what did you plan?” Marianne asked again.

“Well, I thought we’d have more clothes in the pile to be incinerated, and I thought we could use them to make other decorations, like garland or wreaths. There’s just not enough left,” he explained.

“I’ve got a few things I planned on adding to the pile right before we head back to Earth,” Pat said. “I could throw them in now.”

“Me too,” Taylor piped in. “I was just holding on to a few things until the bitter end.”

“I do, too,” Lawrence said, “but only because I’ve been too lazy to take them down and add them.”

Mark twisted his lips and shook his head. “Nah, I mean if you all want to do that, you can, but I like my new idea better anyway. We’re going to have an ugly sweater competition. Use whatever sweatshirt or t-shirt you want, and use whatever supplies you can find to add to it. Wear them to dinner. We’ll all judge each other after.”

“You’ve already started yours, haven’t you?” Jack accused the other man.

“No, I have not, but I have thought about it,” he admitted. “I’ve done no actual planning, however. I was too busy at first just trying to come up with the replacement activity.”

“You could have asked me,” Alannah told him. “I would have helped you.”

“I know, but honestly, it was kind of late when I thought to go look.”

“Are there any rules we need to know?” Pat asked.

Jack looked at the mechanical engineer, suddenly suspicious. “Just what are you planning, Arends?”

“I didn’t come up with any rules,” Mark replied. “I was just thinking ugly sweater, and you make it yourself, man. Unless you happen to have one on board that you brought for some reason, in which case you could just wear that. I mean, if somebody else wants to come up with rules, then go ahead.”

“I propose,” Marianne began, “that everyone be allowed to use communal supplies like the duct tape and the markers and any other clothing they're willing to part with. Other than that, stick with what's available in your area.”

“But there isn’t much on the bridge,” Taylor argued. “I don't have a lab I work in, so I don't have access to stuff like that. Can I use the leftover supplies from Mars? We brought back the sample tags and things, right? Could those things be used?”

“Let's stick with everyone using communal supplies,” Alana decreed, settling the matter. “Then there's no unfair advantage for those who don't have a lab full of things they can access. Of course, that means if you have duct tape and Sharpies in your lab, you are allowed to use them.”

“Seems fair to me,” Mark nodded. “Okay then. Can't wait to see what everyone comes up with. See y'all at dinner.”

“Wait. Are we wearing them to dinner, or should we bring them in and hide them?” Taylor suggested. “And then we'll put them on after dinner so we're not distracted during dinner. Make it kind of a fashion show. We can even play music while we show them off.”

“I am not strutting on a catwalk,” Jack scowled. “I will put it on because I will make one because I’m as competitive as the rest of you, but I am not walking a catwalk.”

“Oh come on, it could be fun,” Lawrence prodded the other man. “I wonder if there's a version of I'm Too Sexy for Christmas. If not, someone should write one.”

“Mark, don't you dare go get any ideas,” Jack threatened.

“Like I'm going to have time to do that,” Mark said. “I'm going to be too busy making my cool sweater that you guys aren't going to be able to resist choosing as the best ugly sweater ever. Quick question, Commander.”

“Yes, Mark?”

“Communal supplies and clothes. So can we use any of our clothes?”

“Any that you’re willing to sacrifice,” she replied.

Mark simply nodded, smirked, and headed for the ladder.

“I don’t like the look he just gave us,” Taylor said. “He’s up to something.”

“Isn’t he always?” Jack observed.

~~~~~~~~~~

“How do we do this?” Pat asked. “Do we draw straws or something to see who goes first? See who volunteers?”

“How about alphabetical order?” Lawrence suggested.

“By last name,” Watney said.

“You just want to go last so we forget everyone else’s,” Jack accused.

“Hey,” Mark held his hands up. “I was actually going to suggest everyone turn around, put theirs on, then turn back around all at once. We could go ahead and dance around to music and check out each other’s sweaters that way.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” the geologist intoned. “Everyone who believes that, stand on your head.”

“I have an idea,” Taylor announced. “As long as someone is willing to help me.”

“I will,” Mark volunteered. “What are we doing?”

“First, we turn the sofa so it’s perpendicular to where it is now, then we line up the chairs across from the sofa,” she explained.

Jack sighed, shook his head, and rolled his eyes. “I told you I’m not walking a catwalk,” he insisted. 

“So just stand there,” Lawrence replied as he helped Mark reposition the couch, while Taylor, Marianne, and Alannah moved the chairs. “This works out great,” he added. “I did a little something extra this afternoon.”

This time, Jack groaned. “Tell me, please tell me that you did not create a Christmas version of I’m Too Sexy,” he pleaded.

“Not exactly, but you’ll see,” the computer scientist replied with a smile. 

"Okay, who's first?" Mark asked.

"Well, if we're going in alphabetical order by last name, I guess it's me," Pat said. "So, everybody sit down, and I'll get ready."

They all did exactly as he suggested, taking seats on the sofa and the chairs. Lawrence grabbed the laptop and said, "Okay, tell me when you're ready."

"Just a second," Pat said. From his back, they could see he had pulled out the navy-blue sweatshirt he’d chosen to work with as his base.

"Okay, go ahead," Pat told Lawrence a moment later.

The sound of two overlapping songs began to play.

"Wait a minute, wait a minute," Jack groaned before Pat could move. "Is that ‘I’m Too Sexy’ and ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas’ overlapped?"

Lawrence laughed. "Yeah. It wasn’t the best. I’ve tried it with several songs. Just wait—everybody gets their own."

"If I’d known you were doing that," Mark added, "I would’ve made a suggestion—or rather, a request."

"Me too," Taylor said.

Marianne chuckled, and Alannah shook her head. "All right, Pat, come on, let’s go."

He turned around. His dark blue sweatshirt had a green duct tape tree down the center, each layer of the tree alternating greens between dark and light. There were also several small yellow duct tape stars around it. Somehow, he had wired a light through the top of the tree, which shone bright yellow.

"I call cheating," Taylor said. "Are lights really part of the common supplies?"

"I just wish I'd thought of it," Mark said.

"Yeah, and it’s not really ugly," Marianne commented. "I think it’s actually quite nice."

"It’s not easy to make an ugly sweater," Pat argued. “Especially not with what we have on board.”

"Next!" Mark called out. "It’s your turn, Jack."

"Fine," the geologist replied, "but the music has to stop. None of that stupid ‘I’m Too Sexy.’ However, if you insist, I will walk if you play ‘Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree.’"

"Oh, really?" Lawrence said. "Just a second."

Jack stepped away from the group, put on his sweatshirt, and waited. When the strains of the song began, he turned and quite literally strutted down the pathway between the seats, stopped at the end, posed, turned again, and started back.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!" Mark shouted, jumping from his seat, and shaking his head. "Where did that come from?"

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," Jack said and shrugged, feigning innocence.

“That walk," Taylor replied. "What was that?"

"What do you mean?" Jack asked.

"You were so absolutely insistent that you were not going to walk a catwalk, and you just strutted like you’ve walked every catwalk between here and—well, everywhere," she answered.

"Just comes naturally," he said.

"No way," Pat argued. "Nobody walks or struts that naturally, except John Travolta."

"Walking is natural to almost everyone," Jack said. "Are we going to judge my sweater or what?"

"Sorry, I didn’t even notice it," Mark stuttered. "I was so busy watching your catwalk, and I still want to know how you know how to do it like that."

"And I think you all could do it too, if you tried," the geologist insisted.

"Yeah, well, we’ll get our chance. I want to see that again," Mark said.

"Me too," Taylor replied.

"Yeah, me too, or three, or whatever," Pat added.

Jack sighed, shook his head, rolled his eyes, and repeated the whole walk.

"Okay, now that we’ve all had a second chance to see that amazing strut, you have to stand still so we can actually look at the sweater," Marianne said.

"And then you have to explain this ability none of us knew you had," Mark demanded. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Alannah sitting, looking like she was biting back a smile and trying desperately not to laugh. "Commander, what do you know?"

"Alannah, can you explain this?" Marianne asked.

Jack’s eyes grew. "You know?" he asked the commander.

She nodded.

"I didn’t think anybody knew," he said.

"Annie does," she told him.

"Oh, shit," was his only response as his head dropped to his chest.

"Sweater," Lawrence reminded them. "We have to judge the—whatever that is—what is that you’re wearing?"

"Well, it is a sweatshirt, but since we’re calling them ugly sweaters, I thought I’d just call it a sweater," Jack replied sarcastically.

The sweater he was wearing was a base of red, and over it he had taken duct tape in multiple colors and created what appeared to be plaid, much like Taylor’s stocking on the wall—except that he had used garish neon green and yellow. Somehow, over it all in black, he had put the words “Merry Xmas.”

"Well, it’s definitely uglier than Pat’s," Marianne said.

"I have an idea," Mark said.

"I think we have enough of your ideas. We’re still working through this one," Lawrence pointed out. "Which one’s in the lead?"

"Okay, fine. So take off your sweatshirt when you’re done and bring it to me."

He proceeded to take both Pat’s and Jack’s sweatshirts over to the table, where he used mugs and dishware to hold them so they would hang just over the edge, so you could see the front. Jack’s was at the end of the table with Pat’s next to it.

"We’ll just keep adjusting as we go," he explained. "If someone’s is worse than Jack’s, then his moves over."

"We could start with Pat’s at the other end," Marianne suggested. "His is actually a nice sweater after all—and not ugly at all."

"Ok, I can do that," Mark replied, and did exactly that. Now the table had one sweater at either end.

"Alannah, you’re next," Marianne said.

"Wait," Mark insisted, "we still don’t know why Jack was able to walk the catwalk like he was born to do it."

Jack sighed again. "You said Annie knows?"

Alannah nodded.

"Then she probably already has plans," he grumbled. "Fine, I modeled on the side in college to pay for school. It wasn’t a big deal."

The commander raised an eyebrow. "Wasn’t a big deal, huh? Weren’t you offered a contract with a major modeling agency?"

"You were?" Taylor shrieked.

"Why didn’t I know this?" Mark asked, flabbergasted. "Why didn’t any of us know this except the commander?"

"What I want to know," Lawrence said, "is how the internet sleuths and tabloids didn’t find out when you were named to the crew."

"I don’t know," Jack replied. "Honestly, I expected it to come out then. Annie probably had something to do with it. I did model under a different name, though, so maybe that helped."

"What name did you use?" Pat asked.

"Nothing special," Jack replied. "I was Harry Smith."

“Harry Smith?” Mark began to laugh. “Are you serious? You couldn’t come up with a better name than that?”

“I did it on purpose. I wanted it to be average and ordinary, and I didn’t want to use a name that would stand out and draw more attention to me.”

"Weren’t you tempted to continue modeling?" Marianne wanted to know. "Even in the slightest?"

"There was a small part of me that considered it. The actual walking was fun; photo shoots were a drag, and all the prep work to be sure I was in perfect condition for each show was a royal pain in the ass. It just wasn’t right for me. Besides, I wanted to be a geologist for years. I’ve always loved looking at rocks."

"Are you ready for me?" the commander asked, redirecting them back to the ugly sweater fashion show. She stood at the end of the walkway now with a red duct tape ball nose, brown duct tape antlers, and a brown sweatshirt.

"Umm, one second," Lawrence responded, eyes back on his computer.

It wasn’t long before everyone was singing along with Burl Ives about Rudolph and his red nose as the normally straight-laced commander pranced down the walkway, leading to everyone laughing, some nearly falling out of their chairs.

"Another cheater," Mark commented. "I mean, I love it, Commander, but you so cheated. You didn’t do anything to that sweatshirt."

"Yes, she did," Taylor argued. "Look at the back."

Alannah turned around and shook her rear a bit so that everyone could see the tail she’d added to the back.

"Okay, I take it back," Mark demurred. "Not cheating, but also not ugly."

“The whole look is cute,” Marianne commented. “If this were a costume contest, I’d vote for it.”

“But it’s not,” the commander acknowledged. “It’s not ugly, I know, but I couldn’t resist after I found the antler headband. I’ll put it next to Pat’s; sound good?”

“Sounds good,” the others agreed.

“I guess that means it’s my turn,” the doctor said and stood up. She turned to Lawrence and asked, “You got Santa Baby on that thing?”

“Really?” he said.

“Really, it’s always been my favorite Christmas song.”

“Ok then, I’ll pull it up.”

“Excellent, oh, but make it the Madonna version if you’ve got it. I normally prefer the original, but for this, the Madonna one will work better,” she told him.

He raised an eyebrow but nodded and began searching.  Meanwhile, Marianne moved to the end of the path they had been using as the catwalk and put on a hot pink sweatshirt.

When she turned, they could see she had cut the collar off the sweatshirt so that it hung off one shoulder. Much like Pat, she had used green duct tape to make a tree on the front. However, she’d chosen the neon green that stood out so badly on Jack’s. The tree was covered in ornaments made from balls of all the colors of duct tape she could find. She’d also twisted red and dark green tape together to make a garland for the tree, and below the tree were presents made from more tape as wrapping and ribbons. She proceeded to dance and sashay down the temporary catwalk to the hoots, hollers, and whistles of the crew.

“That beats Jack,” Taylor said. 

Pat stopped whistling long enough to agree.

“Damn it, you beat me fair and square,” Jack admitted. “Even your walk was excellent. You’re not also hiding a secret job in your past, are you?”

“No, but I did spend a lot of time out at the clubs as soon as I could and nearly put my application to med school at risk because my grades dropped.”

“I am shocked, Doc,” Mark said. “Party queen, ok, well, when the guys and I go out after we get back, you are definitely invited. I can never get any of them on the dance floor with me. I can’t dance for shit, but I love doing it anyway.” 

“Buy me a glass of wine, and you're on,” she responded as she handed him her sweatshirt to add to the lineup.

Lawrence handed his laptop to Taylor and grabbed his sweatshirt from its hiding place. “All you have to do is hit play,” he said.

She did exactly that, and he turned in his gray sweatshirt so that they could all see the computer he’d drawn on it in Sharpie. The screen said “Merry X-mas” and the computer was wearing a Santa hat.

“Another fail at ugly,” Mark commented as the computer scientist walked down and back. “You could market that design. At least that means less competition for me.”

“Sorry, couldn’t bring myself to make anything truly ugly,” Lawrence said.

“Uh-huh, sure, you’re not sorry.”

“No, not really,” the other man grinned. “I’m okay with that. This I may take back and wear next Christmas. You’re up, Michaels.”

Taylor handed the computer back and took her spot at the end of the walkway. 

“Got a preference?” Lawrence asked her.

“Nah, if it’s Christmas music, I’m good with it,” she answered.

“Gotcha, I’ll just play whatever is next then.”

“Okay.” She slid her sweatshirt over her head. It was black and had been split into four sections. The top left had a highlighter yellow snowman with a purple top hat and lime green scarf. The top right was an orange tree with decorations of every color. A large oblong ornament with a point filled the bottom right square. The ornament was striped in orange and purple. The final square on the bottom right appeared to be Santa in a hot pink suit with green trim and a yellow toy bag.

“That is truly ugly,” Jack commented. “It’s hurting my eyes to look at it, literally.”

“Agreed,” Lawrence said.

“I need to see it next to Marianne’s,” Pat said. “I need to be able to make the comparison more directly.”

Taylor took the sweatshirt off and held it down next to the doctor’s, where it hung off the table.

“I don’t know,” Alannah commented. “They’re both really hard to look at. Why did we have so many neon colors of duct tape, and why so much?”

“It stands out against the red surface of Mars when you use it,” Mark explained. “No one needs as much as NASA sent, so we had plenty left.”

“Good point.”

“Why don’t you wait to decide until you see mine?” he suggested.

“Watney, you cheated too, didn't you?” Jack accused. 

“Actually, no. Normally, I would have, but for this, I didn’t need to. Lawrence, how about something from the Nutcracker?”

“You didn’t!” Taylor said. “You couldn’t have. They didn’t send those, did they?”

“The nutcracker boxers.” Pat shook his head. “I thought those were a no.”

“Oh, they came in the supplies,” Mark replied as he slipped on his sweatshirt. “I would never desecrate them to win a contest. Ok, I did consider it, but I just couldn’t bring myself to cut them up. I did go with the theme, though.”

He turned around, and sure enough, on the front of his sweatshirt were the body and legs of a nutcracker in every garish color of tape imaginable, with details drawn on in Sharpie. His head took the place of the Nutcracker’s. “You can judge the sweater as it is, but I did make a hat because I had to.” He took out what appeared to be a round tub he’d covered in black fabric, placed it on his head, and tucked a strap under his chin. He then marched down the aisle.

“Ok, you win,” Marianne conceded.

“I think we all win,” Alannah commented. “This was a lot of fun. We should get a picture of everyone in their sweaters for Annie to turn into our crew Christmas card.”

“Excellent idea, Commander,” Mark said. 

Everyone put their sweatshirts back on and lined up next to each other while Lawrence fiddled with the computer, making sure they could all be seen. He set the time and ran to stand at the end.

“Say Nutcracker,” he instructed.

“Nutcracker,” they chorused and grinned.

Chapter Text

December 8, 2040 

“Why haven’t we watched any Christmas shows or movies yet?” Taylor asked as they sat down to dinner.

“Speak for yourself,” Marianne replied. “I’ve watched several, starting right after Thanksgiving.”

“But we haven’t watched any together,” the pilot complained. “I thought we’d do that at least a few times during the month.”

“Your timing couldn’t have been more perfect,” Mark commented, pulling out his laptop. “This is exactly what I was planning on talking about tonight. I thought we could each list our favorite Christmas show and movie, and then I’ll make a schedule, pulling movies and shows randomly. When the schedule is made, I’ll send it to everyone and put it up in here on the wall by the screen. Anyone who wants to watch can hang out here each night after dinner. If you’re not interested in the evening’s offering, you can do your own thing.”

“Great!” Taylor cheered. “We have to watch Charlie Brown Christmas and Home Alone.”

“Ugh, really?” Pat shook his head. “Home Alone? I suppose it could be worse; you could have said Elf.”

“What’s wrong with Elf?” Taylor asked with a frown. “I love that movie.”

“I’ve never seen it,” Marianne admitted. 

“You haven’t seen it?” Taylor was shocked.

“I’ve seen clips and none of them caught my interest enough to make me want to watch it,” the doctor said.

“I don’t think you’re missing anything,” Pat told her. “I don’t like it. I just don’t like it. I don’t find Will Ferrell funny. I know some people love it, but not me. I like the premise, but the execution just isn’t… I don’t know. Don’t bother asking about Home Alone; the whole thing is utterly ridiculous. Really, the parents are so bad they miss a complete child; they didn’t count the kids at any point, and then they know absolutely no one they could call to send to check on Kevin?”

“And here I thought I was the humbug,” Jack chuckled. “Man, you have to go with suspension of disbelief and just enjoy watching him beat up the bad guys. It’s fun and funny, and Elf is a sweet story. You want to talk about bad Christmas movies? I nominate Christmas Vacation.”

“Hey!” Lawrence objected. “I love that one. What’s your problem with it?”

“Every character gets on my last nerve in that movie,” Jack explained, “and I love the other Vacation movies, so it makes no sense, but it’s how I feel. The only thing I enjoy is the lighting up of the house scene.”

“Well, at least you like the others,” the computer scientist sighed.

“Let’s focus on the movies we love,” Alannah suggested. “As Mark said, you don’t have to watch any you don’t want.”

“Fine, then I vote for Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer as my show, and yes, I know the Santa in it is awful,” Lawrence started. “You can count on me to call him out on it as we watch, but it’s a classic. Someday, if I have kids, I’ll show them, and we’ll have a discussion because it’s a great allegory for prejudice.”

“I’ve never thought about it that way, but I’ve got it on my list now,” Mark replied. “And your movie?”

“Well, I do love Christmas Vacation, but if I only get to pick one, it has to be A Christmas Story,” the other man said.

“Excellent choices,” Pat said. “I vote for Frosty the Snowman, and for a movie, huh, I might have to think about that one a bit longer.”

“Santa Claus is Coming to Town and White Christmas for me,” Marianne declared.

“Got it, Doc,” Mark nodded as he typed. “Jack, do you want Elf as your movie choice?”

“Nah, let’s go with the original Miracle on 34th Street, the black and white, not the colorized version.”

“Ok, and your show?”

“I’m not sure if we’ll have this one; it’s old and odd,” Jack said.

“Odd?” Pat echoed. “What Christmas show is odd?”

“Life and Adventures of Santa Claus,” the geologist answered. “It’s a Rankin and Bass claymation show based on the book of the same name by L. Frank Baum.”

“The guy who wrote The Wizard of Oz?” Taylor asked.

“A whole series of Oz books, actually,” Marianne told her. “I read them all as a child. I didn’t know he’d written a Christmas book, though. I wonder if we have the book in our files.”

“If not, it’s a pretty short book,” Jack said. “I think it’s actually a novella. You might be able to get someone to find a digital copy and send it.”

“Not a bad idea,” she responded with a nod. “I read A Christmas Carol every year, and I’ve read The Nutcracker and the Mouse King several times. I’d love to add another story to my list of yearly Christmas reads.”

“Speaking of A Christmas Carol,” Alannah started.

“I’m gonna interrupt you there, Commander,” Mark said with an apologetic smile. “After everyone picks a show and a movie, they can pick their favorite version of A Christmas Carol. There are about a million of them after all.”

“Nice use of hyperbole there, Mark,” the commander chuckled. “Ok then, I’m putting in my vote for Twas the Night Before Christmas and It’s a Wonderful Life.”

“Pat, we still need a movie from you,” Mark informed them. “After you pick, I’ll make my choices, and then we can talk about Christmas Carol versions.”

“Argh, ok, first remind me which movies have been chosen so far,” Pat said.

“Home Alone, A Christmas Story, White Christmas, Miracle on 34th Street, and It’s a Wonderful Life,” Mark listed. “Also mentioned but not chosen were Elf and National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.”

“That still leaves so many to choose from,” Pat sighed. “I don’t know.”

“What is the one movie you have to watch every year?” Mark asked. “The one movie that makes it feel most like Christmas, that’s the one you should choose.”

“The Polar Express,” Pat replied. “It has to be The Polar Express.”

“All right, then I’ll add my own choices to the list. Garfield Christmas for the show,” Mark said.

Taylor chuckled. “We should have seen that one coming. You insisted on the Halloween and Thanksgiving Garfield specials in those seasons.”

“If you haven’t seen it, you’ll love it,” he insisted. “For the movie, How the Grinch Saved Christmas.”

“Oh man,” Jack smacked his forehead. “How did I forget the Grinch?”

“We can watch the show and the movie on the same night,” Mark suggested.

“The Jim Carrey version, not the Benedict Cumberbatch one, right?” Lawrence asked. “I mean, the Benedict one is ok. It’s cute, but it’s not as good. His Grinch isn’t really grinchy. He’s more just grumpy.”

“Yes, the Jim Carrey version,” Mark reassured the other man. ”

“Now for the Christmas Carol conversation. I know there are about a million versions out there, so everyone pick one and I’ll add it to the schedule. I’ve already looked in the computer files, and the oldest version we have is the one from 1938. I’m pretty sure there was an older version called Scrooge,” Mark told the others.

“There are at least two older versions named Scrooge, but they’re really hard to come by,” Marianne explained. “I think I’ve watched every version of A Christmas Carol that exists over the years, at least prior to any that were released since we left Earth. The 1938 is a really good version.”

“I figured we’d watch that one on Christmas Eve because it is the oldest one we have,” Mark said. “So, everyone, tell me what other version you want, and as long as we have it, I’ll add it to the list. If not, I’ll let you know, and you can pick another version or try and get it sent with a data package in the next few days.”

“Mickey, we have to watch Mickey,” Pat insisted. “It has to be the first version most people have seen.”

“Scrooged,” Jack added. “It’s irreverent and hysterical.”

“George C. Scott, from 1984,” Alannah said. “That’s the version my family watched every year.”

“Ok, I’ve got all of those down,” Mark noted. “Lawrence, Doc, what’ll it be for you two?”

“Lawrence, you go first,” Marianne suggested.

The computer scientist thought for a moment. “It’s not exactly A Christmas Carol, but I think it should count: The Man Who Invented Christmas.”

“That definitely counts,” Marianne agreed. “Well, that leaves me, and there are two that I watch each year, guess I have to pick one, though. Forced to pick, it has to be the best adaptation ever: The Muppet Christmas Carol. Now, what about you, Mark? What’s your choice?”

“There is an animated musical version with Tim Curry, Whoopi Goldberg, and Ed Asner. It’s ridiculous, but I really enjoy it,” he responded. “Out of curiosity, what is the other version you always watch, Doc?”

“So, it’s more than one, actually,” she said, blushing a bit. “I do love the Disney animated version with Jim Carrey. I also watch the 1999 version with Sir Patrick Stewart every year. It’s another version that stays fairly true to the original, and I love Patrick Stewart.”

“Just how many versions do you watch every year, Marianne?” Alannah asked.

“Anywhere from five to ten,” the doctor responded. “I think the most in one year was twelve. I do watch other Christmas movies and shows, I swear. A Christmas Carol just happens to be my favorite, and I enjoy watching new versions and remaking my top ten list each year.”

“You’ll have to share the list with us for the future,” the commander said.

“I can do that.”

“Ok, the list is made,” Mark told the group. “I’ll put them all in a randomizer and get the schedule ready for tomorrow. I’ll email it to everyone and post it here.”

“This should be fun,” Taylor commented, “but it really makes me wish we had popcorn.”

“Stop!” Mark interjected. “Don’t tease me with things we don’t have.”

“Sorry. We’ll snack on something else,” she replied contritely.

“Or just drink hot chocolate,” he suggested. “See whoever wants to watch whatever is first here tomorrow after dinner.”

NOTE: So what are your favorite Christmas shows and/or movies? And yes, what is your favorite version of A Christmas Carol? My personal fave is the Muppets, but we do watch the 1938 every year on Christmas Eve. As a family, we watch at least five versions of it each year, so I’m always on the lookout for other versions in case anyone has any suggestions.

Chapter Text

December 9, 2040

Mark dug through the box labeled "Christmas" in the closet. Smiling, he pulled out a headband with antlers. The antlers had bells sewn on. This was perfect. He tucked it into his pocket, deadening the sound of the bells, and headed to his lab.

Reaching the room, he quickly checked all his plants, made notes on his laptop, and crossed to his room. He changed into a sweatshirt he’d made to match the commander’s reindeer “ugly” sweater, grabbed a handheld camera, held it up, and pushed the button to turn it on.

“Hello Earthlings! Merry Christmas! Well, Merry Christmas season,” he started, then paused, pursed his lips, and dropped the camera to his side. Shaking his head, he reviewed the short recording and then deleted it. 

He returned to the mess/rec room and stood next to the Christmas tree. Once again, he held up the camera, but before speaking, he instead set it on the table and took the headband out of his pocket. After placing the headband on his head, he picked up the camera, turned it on, and began to speak.

“Hello Earthlings! Former Martian, soon-to-be Earthling, and current Hermes resident, Mark Watney here. If you’ve been watching NASA social media, you know the Ares IV crew and I have begun our Christmas celebration. I’m making the most out of celebrating with other people for a change, and I had an idea. I’ve never been caroling. I’m not sure I ever wanted to go, but I’ve been thinking about it. I’m going to give it a shot today, and I thought I’d take you with me. First, we’re going to go sing for Taylor Michaels, our pilot; she’s the one most likely to join me on my caroling adventure. I don’t know who brought this headband aboard,” he paused and tapped it with his other hand so that the bells jingled, “but thanks, this is perfect. Off we go. We’re going to start by leaving the mess, as in the mess hall, where we eat, it’s also the recreation module. As we climb the ladder, the artificial gravity created by the centrifugal force of the spinning modules will diminish until we are floating. We’ll find Taylor on the bridge, where she goes every day to check our flight path and all of the instrumentation. Let’s go.”

He turned the camera slowly to aim away from himself and crossed the room. Reaching the ladder, he considered for a moment, then said. “I won’t be talking until we reach the center, just so you know. Thank your lucky stars that I have a gyroscopic camera mount. If you haven’t heard of that before, it’s a camera on a mechanical mount, which means we always get a smooth picture.  It keeps the camera steady.” 

With that, he put the arm of the camera mount in his mouth, clamped down with his teeth, and began to climb. As the gravity diminished, he began to pull himself up in bigger leaps until he reached the center hub. He put a hand out for the rail at the side to steady himself, took the camera out of his mouth, and pushed off towards the bridge.

He floated up behind Taylor and shook his head so the bells rang. She jumped but didn’t fly away thanks to her seat belt.

“What are you doing here? And what is that thing on your head?” She laughed.

“I’m here to carol for you,” he announced. “Are you ready?”

The pilot grinned. “Sing away, reindeer guy.”

He did exactly that:

Dashing thro' the snow, In a one-horse open sleigh,

O'er the hills we go, Laughing all the way;

Bells on bobtail ring, Making spirits bright,

Oh what sport to ride and sing a sleighing song tonight.

Jingle bells, Jingle bells, Jingle all the way;

Oh! What joy it is to ride in a one-horse open sleigh.

Jingle bells, Jingle bells, Jingle all the way;

Oh! What joy it is to ride in a one-horse open sleigh.

Piano Chorus

A day or two ago, I thought I'd take a ride,

And soon Miss Fannie Bright was seated by my side,

The horse was lean and lank; Misfortune seemed his lot,

He got into a drifted bank, And we, we got upsot.

Jingle bells, Jingle bells, Jingle all the way;

Oh! What joy it is to ride in a one-horse open sleigh.

Jingle bells, Jingle bells, Jingle all the way;

Oh! What joy it is to ride in a one-horse open sleigh.

A day or two ago, The story I must tell,

I went out on the snow, And on my back I fell;

A gent was riding by, In a one-horse open sleigh,

He laughed as I lie sprawling there,

But quickly drove away.

Jingle bells, Jingle bells, Jingle all the way;

Oh! What fun it is to ride in a one-horse open sleigh.

Jingle bells, Jingle bells, Jingle all the way;

Oh! What fun it is to ride in a one-horse open sleigh.

Now the ground is white, Go it while you're young,

Take the girls tonight, And sing this sleighing song;

Just get a bob-tailed bay, Two forty as his speed.

Hitch him to an open sleigh, And crack, you'll take the lead.

Taylor joined him on the final chorus.

Jingle bells, Jingle bells, Jingle all the way;

Oh! What fun it is to ride in a one-horse open sleigh.

Jingle bells, Jingle bells, Jingle all the way;

Oh! What fun it is to ride in a one-horse open sleigh.

“I can’t believe you sang the whole thing? How did you even know there are four verses?”

“I looked it up just for you,” he admitted. “I did change a line in the third verse, though, because it was really awkward, and I kept tripping over the words in the order they’re supposed to be. Seriously, who says ‘he laughed as there I sprawling lie’ other than the person who wrote the song? It doesn’t even need to be in that order to rhyme or anything.”

“It was perfect,” she smiled as she unbuckled her belt and floated over to give him a hug.

“Wanna join me then? Marianne is next on my list,” Mark said.

“Can you wait for me to go get my sweatshirt?” She asked.

He nodded. “Tell you what, I’ll meet you in the mess; I think there’s still a Santa hat in the closet you can wear.”

“Excellent! Wait, have you been recording this whole time?”

“Yep,” he turned the camera towards himself. ”Whatcha think, Earthlings, did I do ok?”

“Next time, warn me,” she shook her head and pushed off down the center towards the module entrance.

Mark spoke to the camera again. “It’ll take her a minute or two, so let’s pop up into the cupola, and I can show you our view right now.”

He floated up into the cupola that was just at the back of the bridge. 

“When we look in this direction,” he said, “if you know what you’re looking for, you can see Mars. It’s just a speck in the distance now, and I like it that way. When we turn the other way, we can see the Moon with Earth just beyond it. You all are right there.” A hand came into view, pointing to the blue and green ball that appeared to be hanging in the sky. 

“I’m going to make this easy and pause the recording for now. Taylor and I will catch you when we go sing for the Doc, that would be Dr. Marianne Jeffries, our flight surgeon.”

He pushed a button on the camera and met Taylor at the hub to go down into the mess. 

“Hang out here for a second,” he said. “I’ll go get the hat and bring it back since I know where it is. You hold the camera.”

“Do I have to?”

“It’s not on,” he laughed. “Just hold it.”

“Fine.”

A few minutes later, Mark rejoined her in the hub with the hat in hand. “Here, I’ll trade you,” he said.

Taylor handed over the camera and took the hat, which she proceeded to pull down on her head tightly to make sure it wouldn’t float away. “So, what are we singing to Marianne?”

“I thought We Wish You a Merry Christmas. You know the words, right?” 

She nodded. “Let’s go.”

They took off towards the sick bay. Landing gently on the floor, they tiptoed up to the doorway. Taylor looked back at Mark. He nodded just barely and hit the button on the camera. They stepped through the door singing:

We wish you a Merry Christmas,

We wish you a Merry Christmas,

We wish you a Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year!

Good tidings we bring to you and your kin,

We wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

So bring us some figgy pudding,

So bring us some figgy pudding,

So bring us some figgy pudding, and a cup of good cheer!

Good tidings we bring to you and your kin,

We wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

We won't go until we've got some,

We won't go until we've got some,

We won't go until we've got some, so bring some out here!

Good tidings we bring to you and your kin,

We wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

We wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Marianne smiled and clapped. “Well, that was quite festive. I especially love your antlers there, Mark. Sorry, I don’t have any figgy pudding for you, but may I join your caroling party?”

“Absolutely,” Taylor said. “Do you want to get your ugly sweater?”

“I just happen to have it right here,” the doctor responded. “Sometimes I get cold in there, and I always keep an extra sweater or sweatshirt nearby. I thought it seemed perfect to keep this one here for the month.”

She slipped it over her head and said. “Now, where to?”

“Lawrence,” Mark replied, “and I thought we’d sing Deck the Halls.”

“Lead the way.”

They found Lawrence in front of the computer in the systems control room and launched into singing.

Deck the halls with boughs of holly, Fa la la la la, la la la la.

Tis the season to be jolly, Fa la la la la, la la la la.

Don we now our gay apparel, Fa la la la la, la la la la.

Troll the ancient Yuletide carol, Fa la la la la, la la la la.

See the blazing Yule before us, Fa la la la la, la la la la.

Strike the harp and join the chorus. Fa la la la la, la la la la.

Follow me in merry measure, Fa la la la la, la la la la.

While I tell of Yuletide treasure, Fa la la la la, la la la la.

Fast away the old year passes, Fa la la la la, la la la la.

Hail the new, ye lads and lasses, Fa la la la la, la la la la.

Sing we joyous, all together, Fa la la la la, la la la la.

Heedless of the wind and weather, Fa la la la la, la la la la.

“I suppose this is the activity for today,” he observed.

“Yep, wanna join us?” Mark asked.

Lawrence looked at his computer screen and considered. “Only three people left?”

“Uh-huh,” Taylor confirmed.

“What the heck, I can come back to this after. I’m not going to go get my sweatshirt, though, sorry.”

“Not required,” Mark said. “Off to the commander.”

“Please tell me we’re doing Rudolph,” Taylor pleaded.

“That’s the plan,” Mark said with a grin. 

They stepped out of the control room and down the hall to the commander’s office. As they stepped in the door, they began singing, then stopped when they saw that she was prepared for them in her full Rudolph best. Once the laughter subsided, they again began singing: 

You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen

Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen

But do you recall

The most famous reindeer of all?

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer

Had a very shiny nose

And if you ever saw it

You would even say it glows

All of the other reindeer

Used to laugh and call him names

They never let poor Rudolph

Join in any reindeer games

Then one foggy Christmas Eve

Santa came to say

"Rudolph, with your nose so bright

Won't you guide my sleigh tonight?"

Then how the reindeer loved him

As they shouted out with glee

"Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer

You'll go down in history"

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer

Had a very shiny nose

And if you ever saw it

You would even say it glows

All of the other reindeer

Used to laugh and call him names

They never let poor Rudolph

Join in any reindeer games

Then one foggy Christmas Eve

Santa came to say

"Rudolph, with your nose so bright

Won't you guide my sleigh tonight?"

Then how the reindeer loved him

As they shouted out with glee

"Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer

You'll go down in history."

“Pat next, and Jack last,” Mark told the others.

“Jack last, huh?” Marianne raised an eyebrow. 

“He’s usually in the gym this time of day,” Mark explained, then hit the pause button on the camera. “This way, he wouldn’t overhear and know what’s coming and hide.”

“Evil genius,” Lawrence commented. “Vogel was right, you are a villain, but a good one.”

“Nah, just smart,” Mark argued. “That’s all. Ok, so we’re doing Sleigh Ride for Pat, at least as much of it as you know.”

“Hold on a second,” Lawrence said. “Just let me grab something.” He flew off and returned a few moments later with a small handheld device. 

“What is that?” Alannah asked.

“It’s an mp3 player,” the computer scientist replied. “Back before smartphones were a thing, these were popular. My parents gave me one when I was bugging them for a phone. It still works, and I have a ton of music on it. I’ll just attach it to this speaker, and we can sing along with the song.” He held up his other hand with a small portable speaker.

“Time to go, or we won’t be able to get Pat done before Jack is done working out,” Mark urged.

Pat looked up to his door as he heard the music, stood, and stepped into the hall to see the five crewmates in a line and listened to them sing, laughing as Mark shook his head vigorously at the end of each line to jingle the bells on his headband:

Just hear those sleigh bells jingling, ring tingle tingling too (ring-a-ling-a ding-dong-ding!)

Come on, it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you (ring-a-ling-a ding-dong-ding!)

Outside the snow is falling and friends are calling "yoo hoo!" (ring-a-ling-a ding-dong-ding!)

Come on, it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you (ring-a-ling-a ding-dong-ding!)

Our cheeks are nice and rosy and comfy and cozy are we (ring-a-ling-a ding-dong-ding!)

We're snuggled up together like two birds of a feather would be (ring-a-ling-a ding-dong-ding!)

Let's take the road before us and sing a chorus or two (ring-a-ling-a ding-dong-ding!)

Come on, it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you (ring-a-ling-a ding-dong-ding!)

Our cheeks are nice and rosy and comfy and cozy are we (ring-a-ling-a ding-dong-ding!)

We're snuggled up together like two birds of a feather would be (ring-a-ling-a ding-dong-ding!)

Let's take the road before us and sing a chorus or two (ring-a-ling-a ding-dong-ding!)

Come on, it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with you (ring-a-ling-a ding-dong-ding!)

“I assume Jack is last,” the mechanical engineer observed. “Count me in. What are we singing?”

“How about Frosty the Snowman?” Mark suggested. “Grab your sweatshirt if you want it. He’s in the gym. It’ll take us a minute to all get down there anyway.”

One by one, they landed in the gym and stepped in quietly. The geologist was on the treadmill, looking out at space beyond. They crossed to stand behind him. When he spotted their reflection in the glass, Jack jumped up on the edges of the treadmill, hit the stop button, and turned to look at them while taking out his earbuds.

“What is this, some kind of Christmas intervention?” he queried.

“Nothing as sinister as that,” Marianne replied.

“On three,” Mark prompted. “One, two, three.”

Frosty the snowman was a jolly happy soul

With a corncob pipe and a button nose

And two eyes made out of coal

Frosty the snowman is a fairy tale, they say

He was made of snow, but the children know

How he came to life one day

There must have been some magic in

That old silk hat they found

For when they placed it on his head

He began to dance around

Oh, Frosty the snowman

Was alive as he could be

And the children say he could laugh and play

Just the same as you and me

Thumpety-thump-thump

Thumpety-thump-thump

Look at Frosty go

Thumpety-thump-thump

Thumpety-thump-thump

Over the hills of snow

Ooh Frosty the snowman

Knew the sun was hot that day

So he said, "Let's run and we'll have some fun

Now before I melt away."

Down to the village

With a broomstick in his hand

Running here and there all around the square

Saying, "Catch me if you can!"

He led them down the streets of town

Right to the traffic cop

And he only paused a moment when

He heard him holler, "Stop!"

Oh, Frosty the snowman

Had to hurry on his way

But he waved goodbye, saying

"Don't you cry, I'll be back again someday."

“Well, since I’m last, does that mean I don’t have to sing?” he asked hopefully.

“You don’t have to,” Mark replied, “but I thought we’d do one more just for everyone back home.”

He moved to set the camera down so that everyone would be in view.

“I know I already sang Jingle Bells for Taylor, so everyone at home will have heard it, but I thought we could sing either that or We Wish You a Merry Christmas.”

“The second one,” Jack said quickly. “It’s shorter, and it is more fitting as a message.”

“Good point.” Mark acknowledged. “Get over there with everyone. Ok, Earthlings, this one’s for you.”

The crew sang a rousing chorus of We Wish You a Merry Christmas, then each went off their own way, humming or singing Christmas carols under their breath.

Chapter Text

December 10, 2040

“For anyone who wants to participate,” Mark announced at breakfast. “We’re going to do a gingerbread house decorating competition after dinner, before the movie. We’ll post pictures on the Hermes social media accounts for people to vote on the best one.”

“Um, Mark,” Pat started skeptically. “What are we using to build? We only have so many food supplies, and I know we have more than we need, but I doubt NASA will approve of us using them for decoration. Sorry, I hate to be a spoilsport.”

“No worries,” Mark replied. “No food will be used or harmed in the making of the houses. Bring along your laptop.”

“Ah,” Lawrence said with a knowing look. “Digital gingerbread houses—excellent idea. I presume we’re all going to use the same program.”

“You’ll get more details after dinner,” the former King of Mars declared. “You all have to wait until then.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“So, this is pretty simple,” Mark began after the dinner table had been cleared. “I thought about using small containers and other items on board to make these. I even considered printing out blank gingerbread houses and having everyone just color them, but as Pat pointed out this morning, NASA wouldn’t be happy with the misuse of supplies. I don’t think even I could get away with it at this point. It’s not a life and death situation after all. This is my backup, and it will work just as well. By the way, any complaints about how the program runs go to Johanssen, as she created it. This also means any compliments go to her as well. If you open your emails, she’s sent the information to access the program.”

“So, that’s what the file was I had to dispatch to everyone’s laptops,” Lawrence realized. “I almost didn’t do it because there wasn’t any explanation, but I figured if it was coming from NASA, it had to be approved.”

“I was waiting for you to open it and come asking me about it,” Mark said.

“I tried,” the computer specialist admitted. “I think it was set not to activate until a specific time.”

Mark smiled. “Of course she did. I should have known. Well, I’m pretty sure the email she sent also includes instructions on using the program. So, Lawrence, how about you cue up some instrumental Christmas music, something that won’t be distracting, and we can all get started. There is a thirty-minute time limit. When time is up, we can show them off, and everyone takes a screenshot to send to me. We’ll post them without our names attached and let the people vote.”

“What does the winner get?” Jack wanted to know.

“Besides bragging rights?” Mark replied.

“Yeah, besides that.”

Watney shrugged. “I don’t have anything now. It’ll have to wait until we get back to Earth.”

“Just don’t forget,” the geologist advised.

“Are you assuming you’re going to win?” Pat asked the other man.

“Naturally.”

“Can we just get started?” Taylor asked.

“Yes, just one second,” Mark replied. “Ok, now.”

Thirty minutes passed in near quiet, with only the sound of music, occasional mouse clicking, and even more occasional exasperated sighs.

“Time’s up!” Mark called. “Laptops down, or to be more precise, everyone bring your laptop to the table. Set it where everyone can see, step back, and turn around away from the table.”

Each astronaut did as he instructed. As soon as everyone had turned their back, he switched laptops around. Other than a name on the underside, where no one could see it. There were no identifiers visible. NASA employees were not allowed to personalize their work computers. Now, each person would only know which was their own gingerbread house.

“Go ahead and look,” Mark told them.

They all turned and began looking at everyone else’s gingerbread houses and commenting, overlapping each other with their words.

“Ok, who made a castle? It has turrets and everything. It even looks like it was made from gingerbread bricks.”

“And a freaking drawbridge!”

“Isn’t that breaking the rules?”

“Is this a gingerbread beach cabana? Seriously?”

“I love that it’s up on stilts, with the sand and simulated waves underneath.”

“Not to mention the palm trees.”

“Who made a whole village?”

“How many tiny little houses are in that village?”

“And they’re all different, not like someone did a copy-and-paste job.”

“Am I really the only one who made a classic gingerbread house? We needed rules before we did this.”

“A gingerbread birdhouse? While I love it, please don’t ever make one for real and put it outside.”

“How did you make a hole for the door?”

“I love that it’s the color of a bluebird.”

“And are those little birds made from gumdrops?”

“Is that a store? How cute. I wouldn’t have thought to create a big window like that, and look at the red, white, and green awning.”

“How many floors is that castle?”

“Lawrence, you didn’t hack Johanssen’s code, did you?”

“NO!”

“I could never build a real gingerbread house like this.”

“This one has to be Mark’s. It’s the Hab,” Jack said.

The rest of the Ares IV crew moved to stand behind him and looked at the screen.

“Wow, that’s impressive,” Alannah remarked. “How long have you been planning this?”

“Not very long,” Mark responded. “I will admit that I asked Beth to be sure there were a variety of shapes of gingerbread we could work with once I thought of it. I’m more impressed with the rest of you who didn’t have any advanced planning time, beyond the day that is.”

“So now do we reveal which ones we made?” Marianne asked.

“Sure, we’re not voting,” Mark answered.

“The castle is mine,” Lawrence said. “I had fun with this. Johanssen did a great job with the programming. It’s similar to CAD software I used when I thought I wanted to be an architect.”

“The plain one is mine,” Taylor said with a grimace. “You all showed me up.”

“Nonsense, yours is lovely,” Marianne insisted. “Absolutely nothing wrong with a classic house. Mine was the birdhouse. The idea just kind of came to me. I want to know who made the whole village.”

“That was me,” Jack said a bit sheepishly. “It didn’t start that way. I was trying to be ridiculous and make a tiny house. Once I made one, I just couldn’t stop.”

“Well, it’s still ridiculous, just in a different way. I made the store,” the commander said. “After we did the shopping the other day, I got to thinking about how different times are now that we can shop without setting foot in a store. Then I started thinking about the small town general stores that used to exist. I guess it was still on my mind when we started today.”

“That means Pat built the cabana,” Mark said. “Where did that come from?”

“My first stop after we get back and are done with debriefing will be an island paradise. I was thinking ahead,” the other man replied.

“Well, everyone email me a screenshot, and I’ll forward it on to Annie. She sent me an email today asking to be the one to post. I think she may be linking the program so people at home can build their own too.”

“She should run a contest for others to enter. We could send NASA ornaments or something. All the active astronauts can vote on winners,” Alannah suggested.

“Yeah, there could even be age groups to keep it fair,” Marianne added.

“And categories, like classic or not,” Taylor said with a slight grumble.

Mark chuckled. “I’ll send those suggestions to her.”

Chapter Text

December 11, 2040

Dinner had concluded. The table was cleared, and the crew looked expectantly at Mark as he stood with his hands behind his back. He smiled and exchanged a glance with the commander, who stood across the table from him with her hands also behind her back. She nodded with a matching grin.

“Snowball fight,” Mark yelled. He and Alannah immediately began throwing baseball-sized puffy white balls at the crew.

Chaos erupted as the others picked up the balls and began to return fire. Mark took cover behind the sofa with one ball left in his hand. 

“You chicken!” Taylor called out when she found him and proceeded to hit him in the head with the snowball she threw.

“Not chicken, just strategy. See, you came to me,” Mark chuckled. He threw the one in his hand and immediately hit her. It bounced off and flew behind.

“But now we’re both out of ammo,” she pointed out.

“Just wait a minute,” he said. “Something’s bound to come flying our way. See there?” He pointed to one on the ground, just as it was followed rapidly by a second.

They each picked one up. “You’re just afraid I’ll beat you otherwise,” she replied.

“Whatever,” Mark said. “Scott, come on! It’ll be more fun if it’s the two of us against all of them.”

Taylor considered for only a moment before nodding and ducking down behind the sofa with him.

“I saw that!” Lawrence yelled. “See, you two teaming up—think I didn’t notice?”

“Wait, we’re allowed to team up?” Marianne said. “Come on, Commander!” she called.

“What am I, chopped liver?” Lawrence said.  

“No, you can join us too,” Marianne shouted. 

She moved around to the other side of the table, where the commander called out, “Pause! Time out!”

“I think we need to set some rules,” she explained. “If we’re going to work in teams, that is. If we want to keep going free-for-all, then rules aren’t necessary.”

“Are you thinking of making it like dodgeball rules?” Mark asked. “If you’re hit, you’re out, but if you catch it, the other person is out?”

“No! No rules!” Jack complained. “That’s the fun of a snowball fight—it’s just every person for themselves until everyone is worn out.”

“He’s right, you know,” Pat pointed out.

“Ok then,” Alannah said. “Game back on!”

The chaos continued for several more minutes with the snowballs flying through the air, people shouting at one another, and growls of frustration when a direct hit was taken. Finally, they began one by one to declare they were out of the game and found a seat to catch their breath.

Mark was left the last one standing, and even he was bent over in half, catching his breath.

“That was so much fun. I haven’t been in a snowball fight since I was a kid,” Lawrence said.

“I don’t think I was ever in one, even as a kid,” Marianne admitted. “We built forts and snowmen, but my mother didn’t want anyone getting a snowball to the eye. Then again, if we’d had these, maybe we could have.”

“Where did they come from, anyway?” Taylor asked.

“Let me guess,” Pat said. “Martinez?”

“Yeah.” Mark nodded. “In his last email, he asked if I’d found his surprise yet. He hid them in my slippers, which I never wear, so I don’t know why he did that except to have one up on me when I didn’t find them.”

“Well, we should probably thank him,” Pat responded. “Or not. Whatever you want.”

“No matter what, we should put them in the closet for future crews to have fun with,” Alannah suggested.

“Yeah, but we shouldn’t tell anyone they’re there. Let each crew discover it for themselves,” Taylor suggested.

“Sounds good,” Mark nodded. “I’m not putting them away until we take down the rest of Christmas, though.”

“Fair enough,” she replied. “That didn’t take much time. Got any other games we can play?”

“Well, the caroling the other day got me thinking. We could play a game of finish that lyric with Christmas songs,” he said.

“Let’s do it!” Marianne said enthusiastically.

“Give me a second. I don’t have a list for this. I’m gonna make it up as we go along.”

“If you’re going to do that, then the person who guesses correctly could do the next one,” Alannah suggested. “Then you don’t have to do all the work.”

“I’m good with that. First lyric: ‘in the meadow we can build a snowman; we’ll pretend that he is…’”

“Parson Brown. He’ll say, “Are you married?” We’ll say, “No man.” Marianne sang.

“But you can do the job when you’re in town,” the crew joined in and continued through the chorus.

“My turn then, hmm,” the doctor mused. “I know. ‘You’re as cuddly as a cactus…’”

“You’re as charming as an eel, Mr. Grinch. You’re a bad banana with a greasy black peel,” Pat bellowed while the others giggled. “Um, let me get to a part that isn’t an instant giveaway. ‘A day or two ago, I thought I’d take a ride…’”

“And soon Miss Fanny Bright was seated by my side,” Lawrence shouted just a syllable ahead of the commander. 

“Nice job,” she complimented him. “Give us a lyric.”

“Decorations of red on a green Christmas tree,” he sang.

“Won’t mean a thing if you’re not here with me,” Mark finished the line in his best Elvis impersonation. “‘Gee, if I could only have my two front teeth, then I could…’”

“Wish you Merry Christmas,” Taylor sang.

“Nope,” Jack argued. “It’s wish you merry Chrithmath, remember the kiddo doesn’t have the two front teeth yet.”

“I’m giving that one to Jack,” Mark ruled.

“Crap, I shouldn’t have said anything. Now, I have to come up with a song,” the geologist groused halfheartedly. “I have to do the same thing as Pat. ‘I gotta get to the middle of the song. Just a second. I got it. I can see me now on Christmas morning, creeping down the stairs.’”

He waited. His crewmates looked confused, looking around, thinking, biting their lips, but not responding.

“Ok, next line,” he said. “‘Oh what joy and what surprise, when I open up my eyes…’”

“I know, I know this one,” Marianne insisted. “I just can’t come up with it.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard it in my life,” Taylor commented.

“Me neither.” Pat shook his head.

“I’m with Marianne,” Alannah said. “It’s niggling right at the edge of my brain, but I can’t come up with it.”

Jack sighed and looked around, cocking his head to the side when he spotted Mark biting his lips. He pointed at the other man and accused. “You know it.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Mark replied. “I’ve never heard…” He broke off laughing. 

“You do know!” Taylor said, poking him in the arm.

“Yeah, it’s I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas,” he finally said.

“That’s it!” Marianne called out. “‘To see a hippo hero standing there.’”

“Why didn’t you sing it?” Jack asked Mark.

“I’ve already come up with two clues. I didn’t want to do another one.”

“Uh-huh, sure. I think you just wanted me to keep singing,” Jack argued.

“Well, that may have been a factor,” Watney admitted. “It’s the Doc’s turn to give a clue.”

“I’m ready for you this time,” she said. “‘There’s a tree in the Grand Hotel, one in the park as well…’”

“The sturdy kind that doesn’t mind the snow,” the commander sang. “I guess it’s my turn, but if we’re getting a movie in tonight, this should probably be the last one.”

“Make it a good one then,” Mark urged.

“Ok, let’s see if anyone knows this one. ‘The Baron made Snoopy fly to the Rhine, And forced him to land behind the enemy lines, Snoopy was certain that this was the end…’”

“When the Baron cried out, ‘Merry Christmas, mein friend!’” Jack and Mark both sang.

“Wow,” the commander chortled. “I thought I’d have to do more.”

“Sorry, Alannah,” Jack replied. “That song is one of my dad’s favorites.”

“My dad, too,” Mark said.

“I’m just glad others enjoy it,” she smiled. 

“Maybe we should do more caroling,” Mark suggested.

“Another time,” the commander replied. “Maybe next year.”

“I’m taking you up on that,” he promised.

“I wouldn’t expect any less.”

Chapter Text

December 12, 2040

“What’s on the agenda today, oh Christmas King?” Taylor asked.

“Christmas King? I like the sound of that,” Mark commented.

“Really,” Jack intoned sardonically, “he just finally stopped calling himself King of Mars, and you’re making him king of something else?”

“Well, he is the one planning all of our Christmas activities,” the pilot defended herself.

“Then he’s more like our Christmas cruise director,” Lawrence argued.

“Have you ever been on a cruise?” Pat asked.

“Sure, to Mars and back again,” Lawrence replied with a grin.

“Funny, very funny,” Pat rolled his eyes. “You’re not wrong, though, cruise director is a better comparison, because ‘king’ would mean he ranks above the commander, and that’s not happening.”

“She did have to approve all of the activities,” Mark acknowledged. “I’ll take the title of Christmas Cruise director; that sounds like more fun than being king anyway. Besides, I’m still King of Mars.”

“So what are we doing?” Taylor asked again.

“I thought we’d play a few rounds of Christmas Taboo.”

Marianne considered, “Isn’t that game supposed to be played in teams? How do we do that with an uneven number of people?”

“I had two solutions,” he answered. “I can be the scorekeeper while you all split into two teams, or we can just take turns giving clues, and whoever guesses correctly gets to keep the card.”

“The second option means you can participate. I think we should go with that,” Taylor said.

“Seconded,” Lawrence chimed in.

“All in favor,” Pat said with a chuckle.

A chorus of ayes went up.

“I’m not bothering to ask if there are any opposed,” he continued.

“So, a quick reminder of the rules,” Watney started. “You’ll draw a card from the deck. At the top is the word you’re trying to get everyone else to guess. Below the word is a list of ‘taboo’ words that you can not use when describing. You also can’t use an abbreviation of the word itself or any of the ‘taboo’ words, and this isn’t charades, so no gestures or sound effects. Normally, there is a time limit, and a team tries to guess as many words as possible in that time. Also, there’s normally a monitor that makes sure the ‘taboo’ words aren’t used. I think for this version, you just have to monitor yourself. We can still set a time limit for each person to describe, though. Make sense?”

Everyone agreed.

“I have the stack of cards here. I’ll go first, since it was my idea,” Mark volunteered. “How long are we going to allow for clues?”

“A normal round is sixty seconds, but that’s when you’re trying to get as many points as you can in teams, right?” Alannah said. 

Mark nodded.

“Then let’s go with thirty seconds to start. Lawrence, set the timer on the laptop. When you’re the clue giver, don’t look at the card until the timer starts.”

“Yes, commander.” He grabbed the computer, opened it up, and then pointed to Mark. “Go.”

Watney drew a card and read to himself: Rudolph, taboo words—red, nose, reindeer, sleigh, bright.

“Ok, um, leader, antlers,” he began.

“Rudolph,” the commander said.

He didn’t even reply; he just handed over the card.

“Next,” he said.

“I’ll go,” Taylor said and picked up the next card from the stack. Stocking: fireplace, chimney, hang, socks, small gifts.

“Ok, timer ready?”

“Yep.”

“Uh, ha- no can’t use that word, usually red, um, filled on Christmas Eve.”

“Stocking,” Marianne shouted a half beat before Jack.

“Damn, beat me,” Jack said. “Good job. I’ll go next.”

He read his card and nodded to Lawrence. “In the movie White Christmas, they sing a song on the train about making something; what is it they make?”

“Snowman,” Marianne snatched the card from his hand. “Really good description. What words couldn’t you use? Let’s see: cold, person, carrot nose, frosty, and building. I’ll take a turn since I have two now.”

“Here you go, Doc,” Mark said, sliding the small deck closer to her.

She picked up the top card, waited for Lawrence to signal her, and read. “Taylor’s favorite high-temperature liquid to imbibe.”

“Hot chocolate,” Mark declared.

“Not fair, how did you beat me to my favorite drink?” Taylor groused.

“Just faster, I guess,” he replied with a smirk.

“Whatever,” she smacked his arm.

“Pass me a card,” the commander said.

A card was grabbed from the pile and slid down the table; she picked it up and looked at it.

“You put it on the tree. It’s the shape of a shepherd’s hook.”

“Candy cane,” Jack said.

Alannah passed the card to him.

Mark frowned. “I thought this would be harder.”

“I think because we know the category is Christmas, it narrows it down a lot, compared to playing a regular game of Taboo,” Pat observed.

“Maybe we should change the rules,” Mark mused.

“Or change the game,” Lawrence suggested.

“To what?”

“Make it more like Headbandz,” the computer scientist answered. “We can each take a card or a few cards. We could just split up the remaining cards. Hold one up for everyone else to see and start asking yes or no questions. We can still use the timer, and you have a minute to get your card. Alternatively, I could use a stopwatch, and we could add up the total amount of time it takes to get all of your cards.”

Taylor spoke first, “I vote stopwatch.”

Mark nodded. “Works for me, but we have only twenty cards left and seven of us. So that’s only two per person.”

“We can mix all of the cards we’ve done already back in, and then each person chooses three,” Jack said.

“That works.”

Mark took the cards, stacked them all up, mixed them up, and then dealt out three to each person.

“One thing,” Marianne said. “Just to make things simpler, let’s have the person to the left of the guesser give the answers, and the rest of us can be backup in case there’s a question.”

“I’ll go first again,” he said and picked up his top card, holding it up to his forehead. “Taylor, you’re answering my questions. Can you read it?”

“Yeah, we’re not worried about the taboo words anymore, are we?”

“No.”

“Ok, start asking.”

“Is it a person?”

“No.”

“Is it an animal?”

“No.”

“So it’s a thing?”

“Yes.”

“Wait, is it a plant?”

“No.”

“Is it made from plants?”

“No.”

“Is it a decoration?”

“Yes.”

“Is it hung up?”

“Yes.”

“Does it hang by itself?”

“No.”

“So it's hung with other things?"

"Yes."

"On something else?"

"Yes."

"An ornament?"

"Yep, you got it."

Mark grabbed his next card. "Is it a person?"

"No."

"Is it a thing?"

"Yes."

"Is it a decoration now?" He paused and thought. "Is it food? Now what the heck," he muttered. 

"Is it a... no, it's a thing, not a place, sorry. Is it a place?"

"No."

"Okay, so it's definitely a thing. Does it have to do with... it's not food, it's not a decoration. Is it to do with presents?"

"No."

"Does it have to do with people?" Each question came slower and slower.

"Yes," she said with a smile. "A thing that has to do with people, but it's not a decoration and not a food."

"I... I don't know what else I can ask. Is it tangible, concrete, something you can touch?"

"No."

He wrinkled up his nose and began looking toward the ceiling. "I... I don't have any more questions."

Lawrence prompted him. "I don't even know a clue what else to ask," Mark said. "I really don't. But I'm probably going to kick myself when you tell me what it is, right?"

"Probably," the other man admitted.

"Fine, whatever. Just tell me." He looked at Taylor.

"Carols," she said.

"Oh holy crap. I would never have gotten that, and I know what was on the cards. You cheater," Taylor accused.

"Well, I mean, I read them. I didn't remember all of them, but I would never have gotten that."

"I have one more then, don't I? Is it a person?"

"No."

"A place?"

"No."

"Is it a thing?"

Taylor paused for a second and looked at the others. They all looked back.

"I think you could say it's a thing," Mary Ann replied. "Because it's not a person, it's not a place, and you're not sure it's a thing."

"Is it even a noun?" Mark asked.

"No," Taylor said quickly.

"So is it a verb?"

"Yes." She nodded vigorously.

"A verb that has to do with Christmas," he pondered. "Does it have to do with food?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe," he said. "I know yes or no is supposed to be the answer, but I don't... anybody else?"

Everyone pretty much said, "I think you have to say yes, because it could."

"All right, fine then, yes. Y'all aren't helping," Mark said. "Did I just get the worst ones in the stack or what? It's something people do at Christmas?"

"Yes." She hesitated again.

Mark sighed. "Is it something people do for Christmas, like to prepare for Christmas?"

"Yes," she said.

"And it doesn't have to do with food. Does it have to do with decorations?"

"Maybe."

Mark shook his head. "I'm not sure I like this version of the game either," he groused. "But I guess it's my own fault. So does it have to do with presents?"

"Definitely," she responded.

"Shopping," he said. "Oh my gosh, of course, shopping. Because you have to shop for food and presents and decorations. Okay, two out of three for me. 

“Does that mean I'm next?" Taylor asked.

"Sure, we can go that direction."

The game continued on until everyone had had a turn. Mark was the only one who had missed a word, but everyone agreed that that was probably the hardest word in the deck.

"Commander, I think before we play another game, I'm going to have you look at it and make sure it might work."

"Okay," she said, "but I thought this one would, so I'm not sure it'll help."

"Hey Mark, don't worry about it," Lawrence said. "We had fun no matter what."

"Thanks, man. Well, tomorrow will be more fun."

"What are we doing tomorrow?"

"You'll just have to wait and see."

Chapter Text

December 13, 2040

Each crew member who entered the mess and recreation module paused as they stepped down from the ladder and turned around. They looked quizzically at the space, but no one spoke. They knew Mark would explain sooner or later. They had all stopped to look because, other than the table on the mess side of the room, all other furniture had been moved to the edge, to the walls. The floor, which was never dirty, was so clean it shone, and there was a ring of what appeared to be clothing or towels on the floor, creating a big empty space in the center.

"After dinner," Jack said clearly as he pointed to the ring, "has something to do with our activity today. Do we get to guess, or are you just going to tell us?"

"You can guess if you want," Mark responded.

"Well, I'm going to guess it's some sort of activity or game," Jack started.

"Dude," Pat said, "they're all activities."

"Yeah, but they're not all games."

"Now that's true," Pat acknowledged. "Still, you could be a little more specific."

"Okay then, you guess, genius," Jack clapped back.

Looking at the floor and considering holiday activities that people like to participate in, Pat said, "I'm going to guess a variation on ice skating."

"Nailed it in one," Mark said. "You take off your shoes, get your slipperiest socks, and you should be able to slide or glide around the floor. I cleaned it as clean as I could get. I buffed it off several times with an extra towel, and I've already tested it. I mean, it's not going to be nearly as smooth as actual ice skating, but I figured we'd put on a little music and take turns skating," he said, in quotation marks, "around the rink. The Hermes ice rink. Everyone can do their best ice skating tricks."

"This is utterly ridiculous," Jack said. "Someone's going to hurt themselves."

Marianne piped up. "I'm right here. Got my kit ready to go.” 

“You knew." Taylor pointed a finger at her. 

"Well, Mark figured it would be a good idea to have the first aid kit just in case,” the doctor responded, “but honestly, no one should really get hurt. We're just sliding. You may bump a knee or an elbow, get a small abrasion, but unless you've done something really stupid, nobody should break anything."

"And," Alannah added, "I'm just about to head up and drop the spin speed down to just about Martian levels so that if you do jump or spin in the air, you get a little more lift out of it. Make it a little more fun."

"Excellent idea, Commander," Mark said in an awed voice. "I don't know why I didn't think of that. Well, even if I had, I don’t know that I would have asked about it. Has everyone been ice skating?"

“Never,” Taylor replied. “There wasn’t a rink or a frozen pond anywhere near where I grew up, and it wasn’t something my friends just went and did in college or later.”

"I think once when I was a kid," Lawrence put in, "but not since then. So I'll do my best, but somebody's probably going to have to show me how it's supposed to work."

"Well, if nothing else," Mark said to the two of them, "you could always pretend to be sliding on the ice. You know, the jog and slide like they do in so many of those A Christmas Carol versions."

"That I could do," he nodded.

“Even with a low risk of injury, we should probably limit the number of ‘skaters’ in the rink at one time,” Marianne suggested. “It is still a fairly small area after all.”

“Well, for now, everyone, find a seat while I drop the speed,” the commander told them. “No one gets back up until I return.”

“Yes, ma’am,” came a chorus of voices.

“So what do we do while we wait?” Lawrence asked.

“No idea,” Mark replied. “I didn’t know we’d have downtime between me telling you what the activity is and actually participating in it.”

“We don’t have to do anything,” Jack said. “We could just relax and enjoy the quiet.”

“When is it ever quiet?” Pat inquired.

Jack huffed a laugh, “Well, with Mark on board, just about never.”

“Hey, I resent that remark.”

“You mean you resemble that remark,” Jack teased. “I wasn’t really complaining, by the way; besides, Pat’s right, there is always noise. The systems running all make a variety of white noise in the background. Actually, I’m not sure I’ve ever been in complete silence except for those psych experiments when we were all applying to be astronauts.”

“Oh, that silent dark room,” Taylor piped in. “That one was the worst for me. I made it through, but I think the whole time I was counting in my head and trying to retell my favorite stories.”

“I fell asleep,” Pat told them. “Couldn’t help it, that was the longest I’d been able to sit down over the whole week. All of those tests wore me out.”

“I worked on mental to-do lists,” Marianne informed the others. “Though it did start to bother me that I couldn’t write them down.”

“I didn’t mind the dark, but the silence was a bit unnerving,” Lawrence frowned. “Think about it, even when you’re home alone at night with no heat or air conditioning on it’s never quite silent.”

Jack shook his head. “I loved it, and it’s crazy because I thought I’d hate it. I was able to just sit back and turn off my brain and kind of let go. It was so incredibly relaxing.”

“I fell asleep, too,” Mark said. “Of course, that was after I went through a list of every Marvel and DC character I could think of and what their powers are.”

“Naturally,” Jack intoned. “You are such a geek.”

“Yep, and proud of it. Have we slowed? I feel lighter. Does anyone else feel lighter?” Mark asked.

“I think so,” Pat replied. He picked up a fork from the table and dropped it. They all watched as the fork bounced up higher than usual. “Yeah, we’ve slowed down.”

“We are now at Martian gravity again for the duration of this experience,” Alannah announced as she landed back in the mess module.

“Just for that awesome idea,” Mark began. “I think you should go first, commander.”

“No, no, no, no, no,” she said quickly. “It was your idea. You have to go first.”

“Are you sure?”

“Come on, Watney,” Taylor urged. “Show us how it’s done.”

Mark stood and moved to the “rink.” He stepped in and began shuffling his feet, sliding a bit more with each shuffle. He spun up on his toes and wobbled, catching himself as he began to fall. “Whoops, well, that wasn’t very graceful. Who’s next?”

“Are your socks inside out?” Pat asked.

“Oh, yeah, did I forget to mention that? It helps you slide better. They should also be freshly clean socks or at least dry socks.” Mark answered and elaborated.

“Good to know,” the mechanical engineer said. “I’ll go next, just give me a second.” He pulled his socks off and turned them inside out, then stepped into the rink. Like Mark, he pushed off slowly at first and then a bit harder. He jumped once, then jumped and tried to spin, landing a bit off balance. He wobbled and threw his hands out to his sides. 

“Careful,” Marianne called. 

“I am,” Pat replied. “I want to try that again. I’d forgotten how different the gravity feels on Mars.”

“I spent four years in that gravity, and I’ve already forgotten,” Mark replied. “It makes me worry about how long I’ll remember the feel of microgravity.”

“You can always go swimming and get an approximation of that feeling,” Alannah said.

“True, but it’s still not going to be the same.”

“No, it’s not,” she acknowledged.

“I’ll probably still want a house with a pool, though,” he commented. “I can go out and float in it at night and look up at the stars and relive the experience as best I can.”

“That’s an excellent idea,” Lawrence said. “You gonna invite us over to relive it together?”

Mark thought for a moment. “Maybe, occasionally.”

“So whose turn is it to skate next?” Taylor asked.

“Why don't you take a turn?” Mark suggested.

“Do I really have to do it alone? I don't know if I want you all watching me. This is weird,” she commented.

“I'll attempt it at the same time if you want,” Lawrence told her. “Not like I'm going to be any good anyway.”

They both stepped into the rink and began pushing off. Lawrence, realizing it wasn't really working for him, decided to try exactly what Mark had suggested. He stepped back, took a few steps, and slid across the floor.

“That looks like fun,” Taylor said. “My turn.” And she repeated the process.

“I think you slid further than I did,” Lawrence commented.

“Why do I think that skating just went out the window?” the commander commented.

“What window? We can't open windows here,” Mark said with a wink. “But you're right. Maybe we should have a competition and see who can slide the farthest.”

“Okay, but if we're going to do that, we need a line, like a starting line.”

“Okay, but it can't be clothes or we'll trip over them,” Jack said.

“Yeah, you're right. I'm grabbing some tape. Is that okay, Commander?”

She thought for a moment and nodded. “Sure, why not. We're almost done at this point. They have to rehab the ship anyway. It's not going to be the end of the world if there's a little tape residue.”

“I'll clean it up, I promise,” Mark said.

“Okay.”

He moved rapidly to the supplies and grabbed tape while the rest of the crew picked up all of the clothes and towels he could use to create the edges of the rink.

“So we need enough room to take a couple of steps, so I'm going to mark the start line for that first. How far do you think?”

They debated back and forth until coming to an agreement, approximately measuring three feet, after the argument that everybody’s steps were slightly different, and someone with shorter legs might be able to get more steps in to slide.

“Oh, who cares that much?” Mark said. “This is for fun.”

“Yeah, you're right.”

They gave in, so he marked the beginning and where to begin sliding with the tape on the floor and said, “All right, whose first?”

“Well, I think,” Pat said, “since Taylor and Lawrence have already tried it, the rest of us should get a practice run.”

“Fair enough. Go for it.”

Each remaining crew member did exactly that, including Mark, jibing each other about how far each person had slid.

“How many tries are we going to take at this?” Taylor asked.

“Three,” Mark said. “No arguments. Three tries, that's it.”

“But how do we know how far each person went?”

“Hold on,” Marianne said. “I'm going to get a tape measure.”

She returned. They measured the start points and adjusted the tape accordingly, and then began. The competition lasted for a good twenty minutes, filled with ribbing and teasing and laughter.

When all was said and done, the commander had slid farther than anyone else, and everyone was beginning to be out of breath.

“Maybe we should do zero g races next,” Pat suggested.

“No,” Alannah said. “Not safe. I know we're all really good at flying back and forth, but racing requires at least two people at a time, and that changes things. So sorry, no.”

“Well damn,” Pat said. “All right, fine. What's up for tomorrow, Mark?”

Marianne wanted to know.

“You're just going to have to wait and see.”

Chapter Text

December 14, 2040

“My plan for today,” Mark began, “was for all of us to make Christmas cards for each other, but is it bad that I’m feeling the need for a break from all of the activities? Does anyone care if we just watch whatever was on the schedule for tonight?”

“Sounds good to me,” Marianne said, “and not in the least because it’s the night for The Muppet Christmas Carol.”

“I do love that one,” Taylor sighed.

“Do we really need to even make cards for each other?” Pat asked. 

“No,” Mark replied. “I guess you’ve all probably figured it out already, but I looked up a list of activities to do for Christmas and threw out anything we couldn’t do on Hermes.”

“It wasn’t a bad idea,” Pat assured the man. 

“Ah,” Mark shrugged, “it was a bit juvenile.”

“Nah,” Jack shook his head. “Plenty of adults still make their own cards. My mother did for years.”

“So, you would have participated?” Taylor raised an eyebrow.

“Probably not,” the geologist replied. “That might have been the first activity I skipped out on.”

“Does that mean you’re going to stay and watch the movie with us?” Mark asked.

“Of course, movies are easy to enjoy,” Jack replied.

“And this is the best,” Marianne insisted.

“The Muppets in general are the best,” Mark said.

“Which Muppets movie is the best?” Pat wanted to know.

“Well, obviously I'm going to say this one,” Marianne responded, “but that's just because I love A Christmas Carol in general. I don't know how many of the other Muppet movies I've seen anyway.”

“Honestly,” Lawrence thought for a second, “I don't know that I've seen any of them other than this one. I know they exist, but I haven't seen them.”

“I've always been partial to The Great Muppet Caper,” Alannah said. “Maybe because it's the first one I saw as a kid.”

“My parents had one of their movies on DVD. It was my dad's favorite,” Taylor said. “Not the first Muppet movie, or is it the one that's just The Muppets, right? Like it was when they brought them back after they'd been gone. But that one where they go, and they fix the theater, and they broadcast the telethon to save the theater. I think that's the first one I saw. I thought it was good. I haven't seen all of them either.”

“Jack, how many have you seen?”

“Honestly, I don't know. A couple, two, three, or four, maybe. I don't know. Can't remember. I haven’t seen any of them in years.” He shrugged. “I'll go with this one.”

“Mark,” Pat said, “the other best has to be Muppet Treasure Island, but I like all of them. 

“Okay, so why is that the best other than A Christmas Carol?” Lawrence asked.

“Because,” Mark said as if it were obvious, “in Muppet Christmas Carol, Michael Caine treats all the Muppets as if they're all Shakespearean actors, as if he's just in the middle of any other amazing movie production. And in Muppet Treasure Island, Tim Curry is a muppet in human form.”

Marianne nodded. “He's right, that's true. That is a really good movie. Probably one of the better versions of Treasure Island, too. They really should have made more Muppet adaptations of popular movies and books. I don't know why they never did.”

“I know. I saw the recommendation for people to make Beauty and the Beast and have all the characters be Muppets except the Beast, who would be human, who would then turn into a Muppet at the end. And there's a really good recommendation for Princess Bride to be a Muppets production.”

“Okay, that one doesn't need to be remade at all,” Alannah argued. “I mean, if it had to be, if somebody chose to, Muppets would probably be the only way it's acceptable. But come on, it's a near-perfect movie by itself. It doesn't need a remake.”

“Are we ready to actually watch?” Lawrence asked as he sat at the computer, ready to hit the play button.

“Sure.”

They all found their seats on the floor or the sofa and chairs they had dragged over in front of the large screen. The movie began. Lawrence dimmed the lights in the module and sat back to relax himself.

“Okay, I got to say, I love Gonzo as Charles Dickens,” was the first of the many comments that flew throughout the movie.

“Are there really fruits and vegetables there singing next to actual inanimate vegetables? That's a little weird.”

“Can he not hear them singing?”

“Well, maybe he can, considering the look on his face.”

“I find it very hard to believe that he would have that large a staff. He's so stingy. Would he really want to pay all those rats?”

“Maybe they don't have to be paid much. But a crime or two of something.”

“Yeah, but you know we got to get the rats in somewhere.”

“And a fun song. The clean-up song.”

“Look, see, they're skating on the ice, sliding on the ice, just like we did in here.”

“And Rizzo doubted the all-knowing Gonzo.”

“Don’t you mean Charles Dickens?”

“Gonzo Dickens.”

“That works.”

“See, Rizzo is so dumb.”

“And who eats jelly beans at Christmas time? Did they even have jelly beans in the 1800s?”

“Probably not. But it's the Muppets, of course, it's going to be anachronistic. Don't complain; it's awesome. Just enjoy.”

“Good point.”

“I've always loved this Ghost of Christmas Past. A little bit eerie and creepy, but not nearly as creepy as the Jim Carrey one. That one's disturbing.”

Marianne called out, “It’s Sam the Eagle. He was the absolute perfect choice for headmaster. Honestly, all of these are excellent choices. Well, probably Fozzywig, of course. It's just perfect, and he's just adorable. I love how they sneak Statler and Waldorf in every time.”

“Oh, you set it for the complete version. I love this song. I hate when it’s cut out, and then the song at the end of the movie doesn’t make any sense. You need it to help explain how quickly this version of Ebenezer changes.”

“This Ghost of Christmas Present is adorable.”

“He's cute.”

“How can he be adorable?”

“Are you saying a huge person can't be adorable?”

“No, I guess he can.”

“They look so cute, singing and dancing.”

“He's already changed. Did we really need to continue? I mean, did the ghosts need to continue for him?”

“Well, they’ve got to make sure he doesn't go back, so yeah, they have to continue.”

“Ever wonder how they make these? I mean these particular scenes with Kermit and Robin on his shoulder, in the, you know, strolling down the street thing? Obviously on some sort of wheel, right?”

“And of course the children are all pigs or frogs, not some sort of weird combination of the two.”

“Okay, we're not getting into the genetics there, thanks. That would be really weird.”

“Did I mention I love Scrooge’s nephew Fred in this version? He's just funny and irreverent and so passionate about Christmas.”

“And he's supposed to be.”

“Well, yeah, I know, but this one does a good job of it.”

“Not that I dislike the others, just better.”

“Okay, another effect I want to know how they do is the twinkling lights as the Ghost of Christmas Present fades away.”

“What a great Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. Tall and creepy, and now Gonzo and Rizzo are checking out. It’s weird that Gonzo is supposed to be Dickens, who wrote the story and is too scared to stick around.”

“They're not wrong, though. For little kids, this might be scary.”

“It terrified me as a kid, but not as much as Pete in Mickey's Christmas Carol terrified me. That was worse. Sending Scrooge down into the grave, which was actually burning. That was awful.”

“Come on, Scrooge. Everybody dies. The bigger problem is you're dying alone.”

“Look at all of these people. Really, working on Christmas? Was that accurate to the actual time frame?”

“I think so.”

“Okay, but now they have to cook that turkey because it's not cooked, and all these people just invited themselves.”

“Guess that's okay.”

“Sure it is.”

“I love this movie.”

“Me too.”

“Want to watch it again?”

“Not right now. Maybe in a couple of days, when we finish the other thing we're watching.”

“Thanks, everyone,” Mark said. “I think I'm kind of glad the cards were going to be too much for me today. This was fun. We should do it again sometime, like next year back on Earth.”

“I'm in.”

“Me too.”

“Me three.”

“Four.”

“Five.”

“Six.”

“Seven.”

Mark shook his head, chuckled, and smiled.

Chapter Text

December 15, 2040

“You know what I missed more than I thought I would while I was on Mars?” Mark asked. “About Christmas specifically.”

“Something you didn’t think you’d miss?” Jack asked for clarification.

“Yeah, it’s not that it wasn’t something I don’t enjoy,” he hesitated. “Did that make any sense?”

“So, it was something you enjoyed, but it wasn’t something you thought you’d miss,” Taylor attempted to decode his statement. ”

“Yeah, that, exactly,” Mark replied with a smile.

Alannah shook her head and chuckled. “It’s clear how much time you two spend talking. You’re obviously on the same wavelength. So, Mark, do you really want us to guess, or are you going to just tell us?”

“I could have you guess, but there are so many options we may never get to actually talking about it before it’s movie time,” he said. “Lights, Christmas lights. I missed going to see the Christmas lights. As a kid, I loved it; as a teen, I tolerated it. After I moved out of my parents’ house, I stopped going, but occasionally I would watch videos of light displays on YouTube; there are some great ones out there. By my third Christmas on Mars, I started thinking about lights. Obviously, I couldn’t see any, and I couldn’t hang any, though I tried.”

“You tried to what?” Pat asked. 

“Hang lights, well, not hang lights, but I set up all of the laptops with different colored screen savers. I also covered some of the lights with different-colored t-shirts to change the colors, but it’s just not the same. At one point, I started planning the light display I’d have in my own yard when I have a house. I always kind of wanted to do a light show to music, but I don’t have the skills. I did think about the lights I’d want and what I’d want them to do, and then I was going to bug Johanssen into doing it for me. Maybe you could help out, though, Lawrence. What do you say?”

The computer scientist raised an eyebrow. “I mean, I could,” he began, “but, and I’m loath to say this, Beth is a better programmer than I am.”

“What songs did you want in your show?” Marianne asked. “The lights set to music were always my favorite to see.”

“I think it would have to be a mix of classics and modern Christmas songs,” Mark considered. “Which ones exactly, I don’t know. I’ve got plenty of time to plan. I doubt I’ll have a house of my own by this time next year. Maybe in two years. I do know I want all of the lights I can find. It’ll be crazy, but I want multi-color tiny lights and the big ones, and the icicles, and trees, stars, snowflakes, basically anything I can find. I want all the inflatables I can find. Actually, if I can find all of the old plastic light-up characters, I’d do that.”

“You’re going to need a place with a huge yard,” Marianne pointed out.

“Well, I do kind of want to live out on the edge of things. I don’t want to be in a big city for long. It’ll probably be overwhelming, but I also don’t want to be in the middle of nowhere with no one around. I should be able to afford it pretty easily, considering all of my back pay for a year’s worth, and then, of course, there’s the fact that several movie companies are optioning to buy the story and make a movie out of it, and there are publishing companies for my logs to turn them into a book. So that’s going to require a whole negotiation with NASA too, because technically they’re NASA’s property, not mine, even though they’re my logs. I don’t know. But out of all of this, some good might come. And if I end up with a giant place and I’m buying up all the lights. You’ll be able to see me from ISS Two.”

“That might be a push, Mark. I mean, they see big cities and lights from space, but I don’t think they can see any particular displays. Though I guess we could radio them and ask,” Jack said.

“Does anyone else have any interest in putting up big light displays?” Mark asked.

“Don’t we all live in apartments?” Pat pointed out. “It’s not like you can put a lot of lights up there.”

“I do put them in my window,” he admitted.

“Yeah, and I put them on my balcony,” Taylor said. “Plus, I do want to actually buy a house. I’d like to have one to settle down in, even if I come back up to space. I’m not doing another trip like this. It’ll be a much shorter trip. Maybe I’ll do maintenance on Hermes, or I could just be one of the ISS Two crew members. Now that we have spacecraft that can go out and repair the various satellites, I could do that too. And then I only need somebody to watch my house for me while I’m up, because it won’t be for that long.”

“Pretty much exactly what I’ve been thinking,” the commander told them. “Though I’ll probably pay someone to put lights up for me. Don’t see me doing it myself.”

“I’ll do it for you,” Mark volunteered.

“No,” about three people said at once. “You are not climbing ladders and getting on roofs.”

“Come on, I’m fine. Or at least I will be by the time we all have houses to do this.”

“We’ll do it for you, or we’ll all do it together,” Lawrence volunteered. “And you know Martinez is not letting you get on a ladder.”

“Psh,” Mark breathed out. “Martinez won’t care. It’s Lewis who won’t let me up on a ladder. And Beck. Worrywart Beck. And if Beck says I can’t, then Beth won’t let me either. And Vogel will go along with it. Martinez might be the only one on my side.”

“Yeah, well, none of the rest of us are either.”

“You all suck,” Mark whined. “Not even if the doctor clears me?”

“You know what? We’d rather you be safe and be the contractor. You’re the one giving the directions,” Pat commented. “It’s safer that way.”

“Okay, so if you all can do light displays on houses, what do you want? What colors?”

“I always like the big classic lights, the C9 size,” Taylor said. “But I want them in red, white, and green. Or if I can get them in clear, red, and white, that would be even better. Just simple.”

“I like that. Multicolor for me,” Alana said. “Probably small, the twinkle lights.”

“I like all white,” Marianne said. “Kind of snow. And then I can leave them up into January and not feel guilty.”

“Good point,” Mark said. 

“I’m going to do lights,” Jack replied. They’re going to be the ones built into the overhang so that I can have them on whenever I want for any season.”

Mark paused. “I hadn’t thought of those. That’s a really good idea, because then they could be like orange and purple and green for Halloween, and green and orange for Saint Patrick’s Day, and red for Valentine’s. I think I need those too.”

“Good point, Mark. I hate to cut this conversation off,” Lawrence said, “but don’t we have another activity today? Or was it just this conversation? Because, I mean, that’s okay, but…”

“No, actually,” Mark said, “it leads to what we were going to do. Like I said, I missed lights. Going to see the lights more than anything. I remember as a kid, my mom got it in her head that we had to go to New York at Christmas time. Not for all of Christmas, but really in December. I think I even missed school, and I cannot believe my mother pulled me out of school for a week, but she did. And we went to New York, and we did all the things. We went ice skating at Rockefeller Center. We went to Radio City Music Hall and watched the Rockettes' Christmas show. We went to Macy’s and checked out all their decorations and the windows. But the one place my mom wanted to go more than anywhere else was Dyker Heights. Does anybody know of it?”

“I’ve been there,” Lawrence said. “I can see why you would miss that. It’s pretty amazing.”

“That’s the place in New York with all the decorations and all the houses,” Marianne commented. “I’ve watched their videos.”

“Okay, I feel like I’m missing out on something,” Taylor said.

“Well, not for long,” Mark told her, “because we are going to watch one of those videos tonight. This is where we went. We walked for hours. My mom took so many pictures. Honest to goodness, I think she filled a memory card, which I didn’t think was possible, but she took so many pictures. They’re amazing, though. And we got hot cocoa from a food truck on a corner. And I think we even ate dinner out of a food truck. I don’t know. It was crazy. But that was one of the memories that came to me there on Mars, and so I asked Mom, and she sent me a video, and I thought we could watch it tonight. See what you think.”

“That’s a cool idea. I will say, though, some of these are a little long. They go for an hour or more, so we might want to play it at like one point two five or one and a half speed. We’ll have to wait and see how it works. It depends somewhat on how much time they spend on each house they visit. I don’t know who it is we’re getting this one from. Mom just sent it to me, and I forwarded it to Lawrence. We can decide as we watch.”

“Well, we’ll start and see,” Lawrence said. “All right, come on over.”

They all moved from the table to the couch and the floor around the giant screen, where Lawrence queued up the video that Mark had shared.

Chapter Text

December 16, 2040

“Mark,” Pat started at breakfast.

“Not me today,” Watney responded. “The commander is in charge of today’s activity.”

“And it’s a directive from Annie,” she added.

“Uh-oh,” Jack muttered.

“Uh-oh? What, uh-oh? Why uh-oh?” Taylor asked in a rush.

Jack shook his head and explained. “If it’s coming from Annie, it has to be public relations related. Seeing as we’re still too far away for good quality ship-to-Earth calls, it means we have to make a video. I hate making videos.”

“But you did really well on the food drive video,” Marianne commented.

“You did,” Lawrence seconded.

“I only said like one line,” Jack shook his head, “and even that was wooden. Look, I can do active responses better than canned lines. I’ll do my best, but let’s keep what I have to say to a minimum, please.”

“The whole video only needs to be a few minutes,” the commander told them. “No one should need to speak for long.”

“What’s the reason for the video?” Pat asked.

“Christmas, of course,” Mark responded. “We have to make a Christmas video that Annie can post on social media.”

“And we have to do it now,” Jack groused. “Christmas is over a week away.”

“Do you really want to make the video on Christmas, though?” Pat asked. “I mean, come on, man. I’m not going to spend Christmas Day trying to perfect a video for people back home. It would be one thing if it were a quick call, but like you said, we’re not close enough to do that yet.”

Jack sighed. “I guess you’re right.”

Alannah shook her head. “Exactly why I planned it for today. We have Christmas off essentially. There are no duties; we basically get a holiday. But to have a holiday, we have to relax. We’re not doing this then, and I don’t want to stress about doing it on Christmas Eve either. This is not a big deal.”

“What exactly does Annie want?” Marinne asked. “I want to make sure that if I have to share something particular, I’m ready.”

“There’s not much to it,” the commander replied. “She really just wants a Christmas message. Basically, Merry Christmas, and while we’re at it, happy Hanukkah, happy Kwanzaa, happy whatever holiday you celebrate, have a great winter, I don’t know, you know what I mean.”

“So we don’t have to give a rundown on what we’re doing?” Lawrence asked.

“I hope not,” Taylor said. “I don’t really do much. For all the crap that Martinez gave Mark, honestly, we make sure we’re going in a straight direction. The pilot’s job is pretty easy right now. It’s a lot more complicated at Mars and at Earth. The trip in between, not a big deal. We don’t even handle most of the course adjustments. All that’s set from NASA. I don’t know what the heck I’d talk about.”

“Well, I’m sure Annie has suggestions in her email about this, right?” Pat said. “I can’t imagine she’d be leaving this up to chance.”

“Not with Mark on board,” Jack said with a wink.

“Hey,” Mark objected, then relented. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I am the one with the big mouth.”

Alannah shook her head. “Okay, we definitely need more direction than that.”

Mark commented, “Come on, we’re a bunch of children up here in space.”

“Speak for yourself,” Jack shot back.

“Okay, fine,” Mark said. “I’m a child, and I’m okay with that.”

Again, Alannah shook her head and sighed. “Seriously, I think we’ll just sit on the couch and behind, like we did for the food bank video, and each of us will go around and say Merry Christmas. Maybe list your favorite thing about Christmas on Hermes, or what’s fun about spending Christmas on Hermes, or maybe your favorite Christmas memory from Earth. Whatever. The biggest thing is just to send a happy message.”

“We can do that,” Taylor said. “No problem. When are we doing it?”

“I’ve cleared an hour in everyone’s schedules for this afternoon,” the commander told them.

“Is now going to be enough time?” Marianne wanted to know.

“It better be,” the commander replied.

“Yes, ma’am,” the men of the crew responded, Mark including a quick little salute.

“I’ll see you all back here at three,” Alannah said, then turned and left the mess module.

Three o’clock found the crew circled around the couch, attempting to decide who was going to sit where, as it would most likely determine the order they spoke.

“Commander has to sit in the middle,” Mark insisted. “It’s her mission. I mean, it’s all of our missions, but she’s the one in charge. She should be in the middle. And I’m tired of being in the middle. I’d rather be on the end.”

“I second the commander being in the middle,” Taylor said.

“Third.”

“Fourth.”

“Okay, I got it,” Alannah said. “I will sit in the middle of the couch. Who’s sitting with me?”

“Let’s do this,” Mark started.

Jack broke in. “Hey, wait a minute, I thought you weren’t the cruise director for this one.” 

“Sorry, hard habit to break,” Mark said. “Besides, are you going to assign seats?”

Jack thought for a second. “Oh hell no. Go ahead.”

“That’s what I thought. Okay, ladies, sit down in front, and the obnoxious guys in the back row. And we’ll go alphabetical by last name, so I’m at the end. We can start and end with the commander speaking.”

They rushed to line themselves up in order. Lawrence set up the computer with the camera open and ready to record.

Alannah began, “Christmas has always been one of my favorite times of year. This Christmas is probably the most unique I’ve ever spent. Last year we also celebrated Christmas on Hermes, but the addition of our extra crew member has made us extra celebratory, and we’re all glad to have him with us.” She gently nudged Marianne, who sat to her left.

The doctor picked up the thread.  “Christmas this year has been an adventure. I think caroling around Hermes was my favorite. I’ve been caroling before, but it will never be the same as doing it in space on a flying space station.”

Pat went next. “I never knew there were so many different things to do to celebrate Christmas. I mean, intellectually I knew, but until you experience a limited Christmas, you never really think about it. Last year, we didn’t notice, or at least I didn’t, because we were so excited to be in space, to be on our way to Mars, to be on our way to pick up Mark, our lost astronaut. Of course, we had no idea we were picking up our cruise director for the ride home. Mark has made sure that we’ve celebrated several holidays I’ve never even heard of, so it was no surprise when he decided to make this the best Christmas season ever. I can’t even pick a favorite activity. It’s all been so fun. This is an experience I will never forget.”

“Pat’s not wrong about that,” Lawrence said. “I think I’d actually resigned myself to a Christmas that, other than being in space, was going to be rather dull and boring. Last year it was relaxing, as it gave us a day off in the midst of our preparations. This year has been a whirlwind, but I’m already thinking about all the things I can take back to my own family for next year to make it just as crazy, chaotic, and fun.”

“I’m not a huge Christmas fan,” Jack said with a shrug. “I’ve always enjoyed the day itself, but the time leading up to it was always too much for me. I thought this year would be the same, but it hasn’t been. Mark and the others can, and probably will, tell you I’ve complained and whined about all of the plans.”

Several of the others nodded their heads and grinned.

“Still,” he continued, “I’ve had a blast. Have you ever tried ice skating? Think about what it would be like to do it in space. Or go ice gliding, sliding, whatever you want to call it. I highly recommend it to future crews.”

“I, I don’t,” Mark stumbled and shook his head.

“We’ll come back to him,” Taylor jumped in. “You see, while this is a video to say Merry Christmas to everyone back home that we’ll be seeing soon, it was also a thank you to Mark, our wonderful, crazy cruise director. He made this the best voyage home ever.”

Mark stood, still shaking his head and biting his bottom lip. Finally, he spoke. “They ambushed me; you all are seeing this. They ambushed me. I don’t know what to say. Unlike Jack, I’ve always enjoyed Christmas, until the last few years, that is. However, I don’t think I ever appreciated it as much as I could have. Being alone on Mars, despite all my jokes about being King, gave me so much time to think and reflect. I’ve told the crew here some of the things I did to pass the time during the holidays over the past few years. I suppose I can share with the rest of the world now.”

He went on to explain his various decorating efforts.

“Gardeners will tell you to talk to your plants to help them grow. Well, I did. My plants knew more Christmas movies and TV shows than any other in the universe. I’d bet on it. I can’t wait to spend next Christmas with my parents and my first crew, along with this crew, but this year is one I will never forget. They’ve all gone along with me in all of my crazy celebration schemes, and there will never be another Christmas anywhere quite like this one.”

“Truer words,” Alannah said. “So, from all of us on the Ares Four crew to all of you back home, hold your friends and loved ones tight and have a very Merry Christmas.”

Chapter Text

December 17, 2040

“Time for another game,” Mark announced.

“Really?” Jack said with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, really, I promise this one will work better than the Christmas taboo,” Mark replied. “It’s simpler anyway. We can even do this one while we eat dinner, and then after dinner, we can go straight into the movie.”

“So, what is it?” Taylor asked.

“Guess the Christmas carol. I’ll give you a, well, a clue, or description of a Christmas carol, and then you guess the carol,” he explained.

“So, do we all guess at once, or do we take turns?” Pat wanted to know.

“I don’t know. I only found the list of clues and answers, no rules,” Mark answered. “So, we can just make it work however we want.”

“I vote free-for-all guessing,” Jack said.

“We can try it that way,” Alannah added, “and then if it gets out of hand, we switch to one at a time.”

“Just get started,” Lawrence said. “I want to hear these clues, or whatever.”

Mark looked down at his laptop screen. “I’m going to start with an easy one.”

“Oh crap, never say easy,” Marianne complained. “That always means it’s going to be hard.”

“This one really isn’t. You ready?”

Receiving several nods, he read the first clue. “Frozen precipitation commences.”

“Let it snow,” Jack said immediately.

“Boulder of the tinkling metal spheres.”

“Say that again,” Taylor requested.

“Boulder of the tinkling metal spheres.”

“Jingle Bells?” The pilot guessed.

Mark grimaced.

“So, that’s a no?” she asked.

“It’s not the right carol,” he said.

“You forgot the boulder part,” Jack commented. “Boulder as in rock.”

“Jingle Bell Rock,” she burst out to beat the geologist to the answer.

“Decorate the entryways.”

“Deck the halls,” Marianna shouted, then blushed. “Sorry, didn’t mean to yell.”

“The lad is a diminutive percussionist.”

“Little Drummer Boy,” Alannah called out. “That’s one of my favorites.”

“Far back in the hay bin.”

“Far back in the hay bin?”

“What is a hay bin?”

“I think we have to focus on the far back part first.”

“Away in a manger?”

“Is that a question or a guess?” Mark asked.

“That’s our guess.”

“You got it. Next, stepping on the pad cover.”

“Stepping on the pad cover? What the hell is a pad cover?”

“What kind of pad?”

“I have no idea.”

“Pad cover, pad cover, pad cover.”

“No offense, but repeating it is not helping.”

“Stepping? Is there a song with something about stepping? Maybe dancing?”

“Walking?”

“Ooh, Walking in a Winter Wonderland.”

“Sorry, no,” Mark replied.

“Damn, I thought that was it.”

“Walking made sense for stepping. Go back to dancing or marching?”

“Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairies.”

“Also not correct.”

“Argh!”

“Marching, is there a Christmas song with marching, or something else from The Nutcracker, maybe?”

“I have no idea; I’m still trying to figure out the pad cover.”

“Can we pass and come back to this one, maybe?”

“I’m willing to let you take a pass,” Mark replied. “If that’s what you all want.”

“Let’s do it, we can keep thinking about it as we do other songs.”

“Ok, then, try this: our fervent wish is that you thoroughly enjoy your yuletide season.”

“That one’s easy, We Wish You a Merry Christmas.”

“We are Kong, Lear, and Not Cole.”

“Not coal? Like, not a rock you can burn?”

“Cole, as in C-o-l-e.”

“Kong, Lear, and Not Cole?”

“Kings, they’re all kings.”

“We Three Kings.”

“Yes, moving on, cup-shaped instruments fashioned of a whitish metallic element.”

“Cup-shaped instruments, bells, has to be bells.”

“Jingle Bells?”

“No, it has to be Silver Bells, remember the whitish metallic element.”

Mark broke in. “The answer key says Jingle Bells, but I actually agree it should be Silver Bells; otherwise, what was the point of the color description?”

“Is there one for Jingle Bells?”

He scrolled and read, then responded. “No, there’s not. Jingle Bell Rock and Silver Bells, because I'm making the change in case I ever play this with anyone again.”

“We could come up with one.”

“Yeah, but the description in Jingle Bell Rock was probably the best you could get for just the Jingle Bell part.”

“Yeah, I guess. Ok, give us the next one.”

“Do you perceive the same longitudinal pressure which stimulates my auditory sense organ?”

“That’s a whole lot of big words.”

“All of which you understood. Don’t pretend to be dumb.”

“I’m not, it’s still a lot of big words.”

“Auditory sense organ, ear?”

“Yeah, something with ears.”

“Hearing.”

“Do you hear what I hear?”

“Got it. A B C D E F G H I J K M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z.”

“Um, what? Is that the clue?”
“It is, A B C D E G H I J K M N-”

“Noel!”

“But there isn’t a carol that’s just Noel, The First Noel, yes, but not just Noel.”

“True,” Mark said, “but it is the correct answer. Now, how about Sir Lancelot with laryngitis?”

“These just keep getting odder and odder.”

“Someone want to explain to me what Sir Lancelot has to do with Christmas?”

“And with laryngitis, is there some song about being sick?”

“No, but Sir Lancelot is a knight.”

“And a knight with laryngitis can’t talk, so Silent Night.”

Mark nodded. “The apartment of two psychiatrists.”

“Oh come on, you can’t be serious.”

“Apartment? What other words are there for apartment?”

“Home? I’ll be home for Christmas.”

“Nope.”

“Nope, to which part?”

“That is not the song.”

“Ok, um, what other Christmas songs have home in the title?”

“Why are you so focused on the word home?”

“Yeah, what about the two psychiatrists?”

“Doctors?”

“Shrinks?”

“I don’t know any songs with either of those words in the title either.”

“Pass!”

“Ok then,” Mark said, looking back at his list. “The smog-less witching hour arrived.”

“Witching hour? This is Christmas, not Halloween.”

“Doesn’t that just mean it’s late?”

“Smog-less, as in clear?”

“It came upon a midnight clear.”

“Yes, 288 Yuletide Hours.”

“Yuletide hours, so Christmas time, like literal time.”

“Is there a version of Rock Around the Clock for Christmas?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Wait, is this like that song from RENT?”

“Seasons of Love?”

“Well, that’s not the answer,” Mark said. “And I’m not saying more than that?”

“How long is 288 hours?”

“Um, it’s 288 hours.”

“Listen, smart ass.”

“12 Days, it’s the Twelve Days of Christmas.”

“Um, Mark, how many of these are left?”

“Well, there were 25 to begin with. You’ve gotten 13 correct and passed on two. So, ten left if you want to do them all.”

“Are any of the others as hard as the one we skipped?”

“Honestly, no, those are the two hardest on the list, at least I think those are the two hardest,” He replied.

“We could save the others for another night.”

“If you want,” Mark said with a shrug. “Doesn’t bother me either way. I actually thought you’d want to be done sooner than this.”

“Ok, but you have to give us the answers to the other two before we stop. It’s gonna make me crazy.”

“Crazier than you already are, you mean.”

“Whatever. What the heck was the pad one?”

“Stepping on a pad cover,” Mark reread the description. “Want a hint?”

“Sure, why not?”

“Pad as in house, like ‘wanna go back to my pad?’” He said, barely suppressing laughter.

“Oh my god! Never say that again. Mark, just no.”

“So ‘stepping on the house cover?’”

“Essentially,” he confirmed.

“What’s a house cover?”

“The roof?”

“But is there a song with roof? Like something with Santa on the roof.”

“Up on the Housetop!”

“Um, you didn’t have to shout in my ear,” Mark said, “but you’re right. So, that leaves the apartment of two psychiatrists.”

“Can we have another hint?”

“Um… just a second, let me think.”

“Come on with it.”

“Honestly, it’s not any easier to give a clue than to guess it,” he told them. “I think I have an idea. What is a euphemism for the patients of a psychiatrist?”

“Um, this feels like it’s going in a bad direction.”

“Well, it’s not a term used anymore,” Mark defended his clue, “but I can just give you the answer if you want.”

“Let’s do that.”

“Nutcracker Suite.”

“Yeah, no way I would have gotten that.”

“Me either.”

“Well, that was fun, now is it movie time?”

“Yes,” Mark said with a laugh. “It’s movie time.”

Chapter Text

December 18, 2040

Mark took his coffee and stood by the window, staring out at the nearly imperceptible dot that was Mars. Every so often, he looked over his shoulder.

“Mark, are you okay?” Marianne asked as she made her breakfast.

“Yeah, just enjoying the view. It doesn’t get much better than this.”

She nodded. “It is a pretty amazing view. Did you eat?”

“Not yet, I will in a bit. Don’t worry, Doc, I’m not skipping meals,” he reassured her.

“Do you want me to heat something for you?” she offered.

“No, but thank you.” He resumed gazing out of the window.

Several minutes later, he again peered over his shoulder; seeing that the entire crew had gathered for breakfast, he moved over to the table.

“It’s time to be funny,” he announced. “This evening after dinner, we will be having a Christmas Joke-off. Everyone must bring five jokes, and one has to be a knock-knock joke. You have all day to prepare, but be ready and bring your best Christmas jokes.”

“I’d suggest everyone have a backup joke or two just in case,” Pat said.

“Good idea,” Mark nodded.

“Are we going to take turns telling the jokes or tell them as a set, like we’re doing a mini stand-up?” Jack inquired. “Last time we did this, we each only told one joke.”

“I hadn’t really thought about it,” Mark replied. “Sorry, I guess we can take a vote. What do you all think? Would you rather go around the circle or tell them all in one go?”

“It depends,” Taylor began. “Can we still sit down if we’re telling them all at once, or do we have to stand up like we’re actually a stand-up comedian?”

“What’s the fun if we don’t?” Mark responded. “Never mind, no vote. As your Christmas cruise director, I’m making an executive decision. We’re going to do it stand-up style. I’ll get it all set up, and we can draw straws to see who goes first.”

“Um, Mark, we don’t have straws,” Lawrence put in.

“Metaphorical straws then,” Mark said, rolling his eyes. “I’ll figure it out. Just come to dinner with your jokes and be ready.”

“Yes, sir,” Taylor said with a playful salute.

Mark shook his head and crossed to the cabinets to finally get breakfast while the others began to move off throughout the ship.

“What’s behind the sheet, Mark?” Jack asked at dinner.

“I wondered how long it would take someone to ask,” Watney replied. “I’ll show you in just a few.”

“Why do I think I’m not going to like this?” Taylor said grimly.

“You’ll be fine. You have your jokes, right?”

“Yes,” she said, “but they’re not great.”

“Mine either,” Pat said.

“I just don’t know about this whole stand-up thing,” Marianne commented. “It’s one thing to sit and tell you all jokes around the table, but standing up is different. It makes no sense, I know, but it just is.”

“It is,” Lawrence added. “I totally understand. I’ll probably trip over my words, just so you all know.”

“Everyone, just finish up eating, and we can get started,” Mark urged.

“Is anyone else worried about how excited he is about this?” Taylor asked the rest of the crew.

“Michaels, you have to relax,” Mark said. “It’s not something to stress over. I promise.”

“That just worries me more,” she responded and shook her head.

“What order are we going in?” Alannah asked.

“I’m going last,” Mark replied. “I figured it’s my right as the cruise director. Doc is first, followed by Jack, then Pat, the commander, Taylor, then Lawrence, right before me. I’ll also be the MC and introduce everyone.”

“Why do we need an MC?” Jack asked, then held up a hand. “No, wait, don’t tell me. You’re recording this, aren’t you?”

“Uh-huh, Annie’s gonna love it.”

“She doesn’t even know?” Lawrence shook his head. “And I’m assuming you’re going to need me to compress the file and send it.”

“Well, yes, please,” Mark replied. “Ok, are we all done eating? I’m going to get the stage ready.”

“Stage?” Taylor asked. “You made a stage? Why am I surprised? It’s exactly the kind of thing you would do.”

Mark took down the sheet he had hung, revealing the makeshift stage with what appeared to be a microphone stand in front of one of the large windows, making space the background.

“Is that a hairbrush?” Pat laughed.

“What else do you think we’re going to use as a microphone?” Mark asked. “It’s not like we have a real one. Ok, everyone, come sit on the couch and the chairs. The computer will go on the portable table right in front of me. You don’t have to do anything special; just tell your jokes.”

The crew cleaned up their meals, then took their seats in front of the stage. Mark set up the computer, started recording, and stepped to the stage.

“Welcome, welcome, welcome to the inaugural Hermes stand-up comedy night. For your comedy pleasure tonight, the Ares IV crew has brought their best Christmas jokes. Sit back, relax, and hopefully have a few laughs. I’m your master of ceremonies, Mark ‘the Martian’ Watney. Have you ever noticed how cold it is at Christmas in the northern hemisphere? Want to know why? It’s Decembrrr.”

The crew chuckled and groaned.

Mark continued, “Please join me in welcoming to the stage our first comic of the evening, the incomparable Doctor Marianne Jeffries.”

“Good evening,” the doctor began. “You know, we’re going really fast here in Hermes as we head back to Earth, which got me thinking. What does Santa do when the reindeer drive too fast? He holds on for deer life, of course.”

More groans and laughs from the crew.

“Speaking of reindeer, why do they like Mrs. Claus so much? Isn’t it obvious? Because she sleighs,” Marianne said, snapping her fingers. “What do you call a reindeer with three eyes? A reiiindeer. Sorry, that one works better in text, but I couldn’t resist. Santa Claus travels the entire world in twenty-four hours. Obviously, there are places he likes to visit more than others. He even has a favorite state in the US, Idaho-ho-ho. I’m going to need a little help here with my last joke. Mark, why don’t you join me?”

He stood and stepped up next to her.

“Knock, knock,” she said.

“Who’s there?” he replied.

“Honda.”

“Honda who?”

“Honda first day of Christmas, my true love sent to me,” she sang.

“A partridge in a pear tree,” Mark sang with her, then clapped enthusiastically and raised an eyebrow to the rest of the crew, who joined in. Marianne took a bow and sat back down.

“Way to kick us off, Doc. Since you seem to have a thing for reindeer, I have another joke for you. How is a reindeer like a coin?”

Marianne shook her head. “I don’t know. How?”

“It has a head on one side and a tail on the other.” Mark laughed, and when she shook her head, he continued, “Hey, I said I had a joke. I didn’t say it was a good one. Next up is our resident geologist and grinch extraordinaire, Jack Harrison. Come on up, Jack.”

The geologist stepped up to the makeshift stage and took the hairbrush in hand.

“Grinch, huh, do I look green to you? I suppose that’s better than being Scrooge. The last thing I need right now would be three ghosts to visit me at night. Hey, why wouldn’t Ebenezer Scrooge eat at the pasta restaurant? It cost a pretty penne.” He winked, and while most of the crew shook their heads, Mark guffawed.

“You know what kind of bug hates Christmas? Scrooge’s favorite, a humbug. Back to the Grinch, after his heart grew three sizes that day, the Whos down in Whoville, the tall and the small, discovered he was a great gardener. Must have been that green thumb of his. Ba dum bum, ching. There was one little Christmas tree he couldn’t help, though; it had to go to the doctor because it was looking a little green. This is a totally random question, but guess who delivers presents to baby sharks at Christmas? Santa Jaws. TIme for our MC to join me and help out like he did with the doctor.”

Mark jumped up next to Jack and waited.

“Knock, knock.”

“Who’s there?”

“Yah.”

“Yah, who?”

“Oh my, someone’s really excited about Christmas!” Jack finished with a smirk.

“I sure am. Thank you, Jack. Funny that the Christmas holdout was the one to throw in an extra joke. That last one was clearly for me. Well, I’ve got one for you, too. Why didn’t Scrooge do well in school? He was...”

“Too cheap to pay attention,” Jack finished the joke with him.

“Ah ha, you were ready for me. I should have known. It’s time to hear from our fearless leader, Commander Alannah James.”

“Thank you, Mark. I’m no good at this, but here goes. What do you call a Christmas rom-com about bread?” She waited for half a beat before she continued. “Loaf Actually, probably a better movie than the original. How is a Christmas tree like a nice dog? It’s all bark and no bite. Who is Santa’s favorite singer? Elfis”

“I’ll have a blue Christmas without you,” Lawrence sang in a high-pitched voice with a bit of a southern drawl.

“What was that?” Taylor laughed.

“Elfis, naturally,” he replied.

“If you say so. Sorry, Commander.”

Alannah smiled and chuckled. “No problem. Two more jokes to go. First, why didn’t Rudolph make the honor roll in school? Because he went down in history. That just leaves one, but I think I need Elfis’s help on this one.”

Lawrence cocked his head to the side, then nodded. “If you’re sure.”

“Oh, I am, but you have to do the voice.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said in that drawlish squeak.

“Knock knock.”
“Who’s there?”

“Anna.”

“Anna who?”

“Anna partridge in a pear tree,” she sang, with Lawrence, the Elfis impersonator, joining her on the last few words.

Mark howled with laughter and clapped as he stood and took the stage. “That’s quite the act to follow, and our next comic is quite nervous. Let’s make it easier. I’ll tell a really bad joke first. What did the salt say to the pepper on Christmas? Seasonings Greetings. I told you it was bad. Now a big round of applause for the amazing woman who got me off of Mars, our pilot, Taylor Michaels.”

“I hate this,” she said. “Sorry to everyone back home; please just don’t tell me how bad I was, ok?”

“You can do this,” Mark reassured her.

“Just tell me they aren’t all puns and play-on-words jokes,” Pat commented.

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with that,” Mark argued. “Those can be the best jokes.”

“Well, I like these no matter what you all think,” Taylor said with a smirk. “Pat, just for the commentary, you get to help me with the first one. Knock knock.”

“Who’s there?”

“Ho Ho.”

“Ho Ho who?”

“Dude, your Santa impression needs a little work.” She winked and giggled. “What is a Christmas tree’s favorite candy? Orna-mints. Which of Santa’s friends is the most chill? Jack Frost. What do gingerbread men use when they break their legs? Candy canes. Where did the mistletoe go to become? Holly-wood. Ok, I guess that wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

Mark returned to the stage. “Excellent job, Taylor. I have a question for you.”

“Uh-oh, what?”

“How many letters are in the Christmas alphabet?”

“I have no idea.”

“Twenty-five, there’s noel,” he chuckled. “Well, folks, we’re over halfway done with our evening. It’s time to enjoy the comedy stylings of computer scientist Lawrence Jensen.”

Lawrence took his place behind the ‘microphone.’ “Everyone loves Frosty the Snowman, except for his ex-girlfriend. Why did she break up with him? He was a total flake. Speaking of snowmen, what did one snowman say to the other snowman? Do you smell carrots? Did you hear about what happened to the man who stole the Advent calendar? He got 25 days. Santa’s long trip around the world leaves him tired and ready to relax. What does he say after returning to the North Pole? There’s snow place like home. I’m gonna throw this last one out to the crowd. Knock, knock.”

“Who’s there?” Taylor called back.

“Wayne.”

“Wayne who?”

“Wayne in a manger,” he sang.

“Who knew that comedy night would turn into a caroling session as well?” Mark joked. “By the way, what is a Christmas carol you can sing to fruits?”

He waited only a second before singing. “Have yourself a berry little Christmas. Sorry, I can’t sing nearly as well as the Christmas tree’s favorite singer, Spruce Springsteen. With that, I’ll hand the microphone over to our primary mechanical engineer, Pat Arends. Come on up, Pat.”

“Stay right where you are, Mark,” Pat said as he hopped up on the stage. “Knock Knock.”

“Who’s there?”

“Oh, Chris.”

“Oh, Chris who?”

“Oh Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree. I just had to jump on the caroling bandwagon,” Pat sniggered. “The awesome thing about Santa’s sleigh was the cost. It was on the house. Seriously, we need the drums and cymbals for this. What says Oh, Oh, Oh! And wears a big red suit? Santa walking backwards.” He held his hand up to his mouth as if holding a cigar and winked.
“What do you get when you cross a pic and Christmas tree lights? A porcupine. What’s red and white and falls down chimneys? Santa Klutz. Thank you, thank you very much.”

“Groucho Arends, everyone. That just leaves me, and boy, did you all set the stage for me, metaphorically, anyway. We’ve done quite a bit of singing here tonight, which leaves me wondering if anyone knows the Grinch’s favorite band? The Who! This has been a great Christmas, but I have to say I miss my dog. He was always fun at the holidays, not like cats who always climb the tree or knock off the ornaments, and it’s really hard to please a cat with a present. The gifts are just never up to scratch. All that time with cats climbing the tree, haven’t you ever wondered what happens with Christmas trees when they go numb? They get pines and needles. I’m going to cheat like Jack there and throw in an extra joke. This is just for all the geeks out there. What did Luke Skywalker say after he planted a Christmas tree farm? May the forest be with you.”

Taylor laughed so hard she snorted, then quickly covered her mouth, turning red as the others laughed harder.

Mark bit his lip and took a deep breath to stop laughing. Finally, he said. “I’m just going to throw this one out there. Knock, knock.”

“Who’s there?” the crew chorused.

“Noah.”

“Noah who?”

“Noah good Christmas joke? If you do, share them with us. Post your favorite Christmas joke to social media with the hashtag #HermesStandUp. Can’t wait for more laughs. Thank you everyone for joining us tonight. Looking forward to the Ares V stand-up night, date to be determined.”

Chapter Text

“What is that?” Taylor asked as she entered the mass module.

“What do you mean?” Mark said.

“That thing over there. That stick that you have decorated to look like a candy cane,” she answered. 

“I assume it probably has something to do with what we are doing tonight,” Pat said.

“Well, yeah,” Taylor said, “obviously. But what is it, and what are we doing, and why?”

“You know I'm not going to answer until everyone is here,” Mark told her. “So I'm not sure why you even asked.”

“Well, you know, it is kind of an instinct when you come in and see a giant candy-striped pole that you have never seen before. Where did it come from anyway?”

“I used some of the extra PVC for my hydroponics set,” he explained, “and then just wrapped red duct tape around it.”

“And I assume,” Jack said, “it has something to do with those other two things over there.”

“What other two things?” Taylor asked.

Jack pointed, and she turned around. “Also from your hydroponics set?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Oh my God. We are going to do limbo.”

Lawrence shook his head. “Seriously? Limbo? Christmas limbo? I thought these were all Christmas activities.”

“Well, I mean, it is not like they do not have Christmas in places where they do the limbo,” Marianne said.

“I know, but that is not us, is it?”

“It is today,” Mark said with a grin. “But not just any limbo. Santa limbo.”

The rest of the group just looked at him. Nobody bothered to ask, almost as if they were afraid of the answer to what exactly Santa limbo was. Of course, they also knew he would explain it, so they just waited.

“So we use the stands I made to hold the pipe. You have to wear the Santa hat. You have to keep the Santa hat on your head as you limbo. Not just that you cannot touch the pole. The hat has to stay on your head, and you cannot hold it on, and you can’t use anything to hold it on. It just has to stay on your head. The last person to be able to limbo and keep the hat on their head,” Mark said, “is the winner. But all the other limbo rules are the same, right?” Jack clarified.

“Yeah,” Mark said.

“Oh, this is going to be interesting. I have never been any good at the limbo,” Marianne commented. “I’ve always been too afraid I would hurt myself. Plus, I’ve never been super bendy.”

“Afraid you will hurt yourself?” Pat said, shaking his head. “And yet you are an astronaut.”

“Yeah, I know. It is anachronistic.”

“Ooh, throwing out the big words now. When do we start?”

“Well, I thought we would do it after dinner.”

“Wouldn’t before dinner be better, in case somebody, you know, gets silly and upsets their stomach?” Taylor said.

“You mean like you?” Mark said.

“Yes, me or anyone else,” she replied. “And you are going first,” she declared.

“All right, fine. I guess we can get started,” he instructed the others. “I will go first.”

Mark picked up the Santa hat and yanked it down on his head as tight as he could get it. He then proceeded to the limbo pole, where he did the best he could to bend under it, just barely sliding underneath.

“My mobility is back,” he said. “Me next,” Taylor said. She snatched the hat off his head, jammed it down onto hers, and proceeded under the pole with ease.

“That is not fair,” Lawrence complained. “To begin with, limbo is limbo is limbo.”

“Deal with it,” Mark replied. “Besides, she still has to keep the hat on her head. That may get harder as it gets lower.”

“True,” he said. “All right, give it here, Taylor.”

She handed over the Santa hat, and Lawrence took a chance at the pole, sliding under with nearly as much ease as she had. The remaining crew members took their turn, and soon the hat was back in Mark’s hands.

“Hey, how tall is this?” Lawrence asked.

“Wait, did you really use feet and not meters?” Jack said.

“Yeah, I know, I know,” Mark went on. “We are scientists; we are supposed to use metric. I'm also American, and we still use feet. Plus, it was just easier. So I started at four feet, the next one is three and a half, and then three, and then it drops by quarters instead of halves.”

“So three inches instead of six, right?” Pat asked.

“Yep,” Mark replied.

“What is the standard limbo pole height?” Marianne wanted to know.

“I have no idea,” Mark said. “I did not bother to look it up. I did not think it mattered.”

“I guess it does not. I'm still curious. Anyway, it is your turn again.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Once again, Mark pulled the hat down tight over his head and approached the limbo pole. He bent down and did his best, but wound up falling and landing on his knees.

“Ow.”

“Wow, what hurts? What did you do?” Marianne said in a rush.

“Are you all right?” Taylor asked.

“Do we need to stop for a minute?” Alana asked.

“I'm fine,” Mark said, holding up a hand. “Just banged my knees, is all. I'm totally okay; nothing else hurts. It is all right,” he reassured them. “But I guess I'm out, because, like I said, my ability is not all there. At least my bendiness. My flexibility. That is it; that is the word. I don’t know why I couldn’t come up with it. I'm okay, I promise I'm okay. Please do not look at me like that. Here, your turn.”

He took the hat off and tossed it to Taylor. Everyone else made it through the round with ease again.

They dropped it to three feet. Taylor slid under with no problem. Marianne bumped the pole and was deemed out. The commander made it by a hair. Jack struggled, and the hat fell off. Lawrence and Pat also went right under with ease.

“Okay, two and three-quarters feet,” Mark said.

This time, Lawrence fell, hitting his knees. “Ow,” he said. “Mark is right, that hurts. I didn’t fall when we skated. This floor is not soft.”

“Well, duh,” Jack said, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, I know it isn’t, but come on,” Lawrence snapped back.

“Two and a half feet,” Mark announced.

The commander lost the hat and bumped the pole off. Pat and Taylor each slid under.

“So it is down to you two,” Mark said. “Two and a quarter.”

“That looks really low,” Pat said.

“I do not know,” Taylor said. “I guess I do not have a choice.”

She jammed the hat on her head again, yanking it as low as it would go until it nearly covered her ears. She approached the pole, widened her stance, bent her knees, and bent back. Carefully, slowly, she made her way under the pole.

“Holy crap, what are you, Neo from The Matrix?” Mark asked.

“That’s it. Think I can do that?” Pat asked. “Last time might have been my last.”

“You have got to at least try, man,” Mark encouraged.

“Sure, hold on.”

Pat took the hat and put it on. He took several steps back, getting as far away from the limbo pole as he could. He took what appeared to be a running start, dropped to his knees, and slid under the pole.

“Dude, that is cheating,” Mark announced, “but a really good way to do it, actually.”

The crew laughed.

“So Taylor is our limbo champion.”

“I told you being short helped.”

“I don’t think it was being short that helped,” Marianne said. “I think it is the fact that she does yoga regularly. Flexibility training really helps.”

“She also has a smaller head,” the commander noted, “which would make it easier to keep the hat on.”

“But this was fun. Thanks, Mark.”

“No problem. Got it from the internet anyway. Let’s eat.”

Chapter Text

December 20, 2040

“Is everyone ready for a game?” Mark asked as they finished cleaning up dinner.

“Can I get comfortable on the couch first?” Jack asked.

“Sure. I’ll explain while everyone gets settled and gets their after-dinner coffee or whatever,” Mark replied. “The original plan was to play Christmas 20 questions, but that felt too close to what we ended up doing when we tried to play Taboo, so I found another game: Five Second Rule.”

“Tell me we’re not going to talk about Christmas foods and which ones we’d eat if we dropped them on the floor,” Marianne pleaded. “My answer to all of them would be no.”

Mark cocked his head to one side and considered, before grinning. “No, that’s not the game, though it might be a conversation worth having.”

“My answers would still all be no, I’m not eating it if it fell on the floor,” the doctor told him.

“No, I’ll give you a topic, and you have to name three things that fit that topic in five seconds. If you get three, you get a point,” Watney explained.

“Do you have a list of acceptable answers?” Taylor queried.

“No, I figured we can just go with majority rules on accepting answers. So who goes first?”

“What the hell,” Jack commented. “I volunteer as tribute.”

Mark looked at the geologist. “Did you really just reference Hunger Games?”

“I had to read it in school,” Jack said. “That line stuck in my head.”

“Did you ever watch the movies?”

“I think we watched the first one in class after we read, but I don’t remember it.”

“Um, are we starting the game or not?” Pat asked.

“Ok, yeah. So, Jack, name, wait, we need a timekeeper.”

“I’ll do it until it’s my turn,” Lawrence volunteered.

“So, Jack, name three Christmas foods.”

“Candy Canes, turkey, um.”

“Time.”

“Damn, that was harder than I thought it would be,” the geologist said.

“Taylor, you’re up,” Mark said. “Name three Christmas symbols.”

“Tree, star, and nativity,” she rattled off in a breath.

“Is the nativity a symbol?” Pat wondered.

“What else would it be?” Jack asked.

“A display,” Pat suggested.

“I vote it’s a symbol,” Lawrence said. Three other crew members concurred.

“Commander, 3 things Santa might say.”

“Ho, ho, ho. Have you been naughty or nice? You’ll shoot.”

“Time.”

“Guess, I lose,” Alannah commented.

“That is a lot to get out in five seconds,” Marianne observed. “You started the last one; I think you should get credit for it.”

“No,” the commander said with a smile. “I’m ok.”

“I’m not arguing with the one in charge,” Mark said, “Doc, you’re up. Name three green things associated with Christmas.”

“Trees, garland, mistletoe,” she practically yelled.

“Point for the doc. Lawrence, pass the timer off to someone else.” Mark waited for him to do so, then continued. “Name three words that rhyme with ‘merry.’”

“Fairy, hairy, berry.”

“Pat’s turn. Name three types of holiday desserts.”

“Christmas cookies, pumpkin pie, fudge.”

“Good, back to Jack,” Mark said.

“Wait, aren’t you going to take a turn?” the geologist asked.

“I’ve seen the list, so it doesn’t seem fair,” Mark replied.

“Ok, go ahead then,” the other man said.

“Name three types of gifts people give on Christmas.”

“Gift cards, clothing, appliances.”

“Taylor, you’re up with naming three funny names for an elf.”

“Umm, Hermie, Elfie, and I have no idea,” she said.

“That was a harder one,” Mark admitted. “I don’t think I could do it either. Commander, three things you might leave out for Santa.”

“Cookies, milk, carrots for him to give to the reindeer.”

“I think that’s cheating,” Jack complained.

“Nah, we used to leave out carrots,” Pat said, “and we knew Santa wasn’t eating them, he was giving them to the reindeer. Besides, what else would you leave out for Santa?”

“Hot chocolate,” Jack suggested.

“Or coffee,” Marianne added. “I know coffee got me through my internship and residency day-long shifts. The man in the red suit could probably use the caffeine.”

“All excellent ideas,” Alannah commented. “Kinda wish I’d thought of one of those.”

“Marianne,” Mark started.

“Wait, you didn’t call me Doc, are you feeling ok?” she teased.

“Yes, Doc,” he intoned. “Name three Christmas words that start with ‘s’.”

“Santa, snow,”

“Time,” Lawrence announced.

“Well, crap,” Marianne shook her head. “Does anyone have any other ideas, because I struck out?”

“Silver bells,” Pat suggested.

“Good one,” she nodded.

Lawrence passed the timer off to Pat. “I’m ready.”

“Name three ways to say Merry Christmas in other languages.”

“Feliz Navidad, Mele Kalikimaka, Joyeux Noël.”

“Wow! That was good,” Mark nodded approvingly. “I would have gotten the first two but not the last one.”

“I took French in high school,” Lawrence replied with a shrug.

“Pat, that means you’re up.”

“Ready whenever you are,” the man in question replied.

“Name three words to describe Santa Claus.”

“Fat, jolly, merry.”

Mark nodded. “Everyone good for one more round?”

“Sure, what’s the score so far?” Taylor asked. “I know I missed one, but what about everyone else?”

Mark looked down at his screen and read. “Lawrence and Pat are both two for two; everyone else has missed one.”

“So it’s still anyone’s game,” she said. “Are we going to have a tiebreaker? Do you have enough topics for that?”

“I do,” he said. “Jack?”

“Go for it!”

“Name three places to hang mistletoe.”

“Doorway, are there any other places?” he asked.

“I guess you could be specific and say kitchen doorway, living room doorway, that kind of thing,” Lawrence suggested. “But yeah, that’s tough. I’ve never seen it just out in the open on the ceiling or anything. Do people do that?”

“My dad thought he was being funny one year,” Mark said, cringing. “He hung it over his side of the bed.”

“That’s hysterical,” Pat said between guffaws.

“Well, I’m out of the running,” Jack observed. “How about I take the timer from Lawrence?”

“Here you go?” The computer scientist said and handed over the timepiece.

“Taylor!” 

“Yes!”

“Name three animals in the nativity scene.”

“Camel, cow, goat.”

“That’s two for Taylor. Commander, name three names for Santa Claus.”

“Kris Kringle, St. Nicholas, and, um, I know I know another one,” she insisted.

“Time,” Jack called out.

“Well, I’m out too then,” she commented.

“Doc, you’re up again. This time, you need to name three hot chocolate toppings.”

“Whipped topping, marshmallows, um, milk isn’t a topping, it’s an additive. What else?” 

“Time.”

“Ugh, and I just thought of candy cane pieces,” the doctor complained. “Well, damn, I’m out too.”

“Lawrence, name three snowy places associated with Christmas.”

“The North Pole,” Lawrence began. “Uh, wouldn’t any place snowy count?”

“Time.”

“That means I have two still,” the computer scientist said.

“Pat, this is all yours to win. All you have to do is name three Christmas songs that mention snow.”

“Let it Snow, Walking in a Winter Wonderland, Jingle Bells!” he shouted the last.

“That’s it then, folks, Pat is our winner. Though if we want to play this again on Christmas, I have a huge list still to go,” Mark told them.

“We’ll keep that in mind,” Jack said, shaking his head and handing the watch back to Lawrence. 

Chapter Text

December 21, 2040

“While we eat,” Mark said, opening his laptop. “I thought I’d get our activity for the day started.”

“And you need your computer to do it?” Alannah frowned. “I thought you were going to write it down.”

“But then people might see the context,” he argued. “If I sit here at the end of the table, I’m out of everyone’s way, and I can type and eat at the same time. I promise not to drop anything on the laptop, Lawrence.”

“Good, because if you make a mess of it, you’re cleaning it, not me,” the computer scientist replied.

“I’m going to go around the table and ask you for words; just say the first thing that comes to mind,” Mark told the group.

“What are we doing?” Jack asked.

“Let me guess,” Taylor said with a chuckle, “Mad Libs?”

Mark nodded. “Ok, Pat, you’re first. I need a holiday.”

“We don’t want to be obvious, do we?” the other man inquired.

“You mean use Christmas words?” Mark asked in return.

“Yep.”

“I don’t think they’ll be as funny if we do.”

“Gotcha,” Pat replied, “then Arbor Day.”

“Doc, you’re next; give me a gerund.”

“A what?” Taylor asked. “I probably learned that at some point, but I don’t remember it.

“A gerund is an -ing verb. Man, what kind of astronaut doesn’t know what a gerund is?” Mark snarked with a smile. “Actually, it only asks for a verb, but it needs to be an -ing verb to make sense so…”

“Running.”

“Jack, a plural noun.”

“Bears.”

“Commander, a famous person.”

“Kermit the Frog.”

“Excellent answer, Lawrence, a group.”

“A group of what?” he asked.

“I have no idea,” Mark replied. “A group of people, things, I don’t know, just a group.

“Dwarves.”

“Ok, well, I would never have expected that. Taylor, a treat.”

“Snickers bar.”

“Starting again around the circle,” Mark said. “Clothing.”

“Jockstrap.”

“Really?” Alannah shook her head.

“Season.”

“Fall.”

“Part of a house.”

“Basement.”

“Body part.”

“Elbow.

“Another body part.”

“Elbow.

“Noun.”

“Tree.”

“Gerund.”

“Flying.”

“Direction.

“Down.”

“Geund.”

“Drinking.”

“Yet another body part.”

“Descending colon.”

Mark paused for a second. “Leave it to the doctor to come up with an answer like that. Ok, then, Jack, another part of the house.”

“Attic.”

“Vehicle.”

“Big wheel.”

“Oh,” Taylor smiled. “I had one of those as a kid, and I loved it.”

“So did I,” Alannah said. “That’s why I said it.”

“Next, another gerund.”

“Dancing.”

“And another gerund.”

“Burping.”

“Adjective.”

“Tall.”

“Body part again.”

“Nose.”

“Gerund again.”

“Cleaning.

“A feeling.”

“Amorous.”

“Breaking out the big words, are we? Adjective.”

“Exciting, I’m not going for big words.”

“Plural noun.”

“Shoes.”

“Another holiday.”

“Talk Like a Pirate Day.”

“Aw yeah!” Mark grinned. “Aarrrgh! That be a great choice, matey.” 

The rest of the crew laughed, and Mark started again. “Body part.”

“Butt.”

“Plural noun.”

“Hats.”

“Another plural noun.”

“Mirrors.”

“Body part.”

“Shoulder.”

“Place.”

“Castle.”

“Verb.”

“Peer.”

“Number.”

“105.”

“Past tense verb.”

“Packed.”

“Past tense verb.”

“Eavesdropped.”

“Food.”

“Shrimp cocktail.”

“A third holiday.”

“Star Wars Day.”

“Plural noun.”

“Curtains.”

“Person.”

“Creepster.”

“Instrument.”

“Theremin.”

“Vehicle.”

“Tank.”

“Person.”

“Thanos.”

“Adjective.”

“Living.”

“Plural noun.”

“Shadows.”

“Past tense verb.”

“Brought.”

“Verb.”

“Pet.”

“Noun.”

“Pillow.”

“Something you wear.”

“Robe.”

“Plural noun.”

“Doors.”

“Person in uniform.”

“Mailman.”

“Noun.”

“Painting.”

“Something you wear.”

“Galoshes.”

“Past tense verb.”

“Spun.”

“Past tense verb.”

“Twirled.”

“Gerund.”

“Eating.”

“Place.”

“Satellite of Love.”

“Body part.”

“Neck.”

*~*~* “Ok, just a second, and I’ll start reading,” Mark said.

“This is going to be utterly ridiculous, isn’t it?” Pat asked.

“If we’re lucky,” Lawrence commented.

“Here we go,” Mark began to read. 

Polar Express

On Star Wars Day many years ago, I lay quietly in my bed. I did not rustle the curtains. I breathed slowly and silently. I was listening for a sound - a sound creepster had told me I’d never hear - the ringing theremin of Santa’s tank. 

“There is no Santa,” Thanos had insisted, but I knew he was living.

Late that night, I did hear sounds, though not of ringing shadows. From outside came the sound of singing steam and talking metal. I looked through my window and saw a pillow standing perfectly still in front of my house.

It was wrapped in a robe of steam, doors fell lightly around it. A mailman stood at the open door of one of the cars. He took a large painting from his vest, then looked up at my window. I put on my slippers and galoshes. I tiptoed downstairs and out the door. 

“All aboard,” the conductor spun out. I twirled up to him.

“Well,” he said, “are you eating?”

“Where?” I asked.

“Why to the Satellite of Love, of course,” was his answer. “This is the Polar Express.”

I took his outstretched neck and he pulled me aboard.

Mark finished reading and looked at the crew.

“Um, that wasn’t all the words,” Taylor observed. “So I’m guessing there’s more than one.”

“Uh-huh, three to be exact,” Mark said.

“I hope these get better,” Jack commented. “No offense, that one just wasn’t great. I know our word choices are part of it, but maybe it’s the story too.”

Mark shrugged. “They do get better; it’s why I chose to read that one first, because it didn’t turn out as well. I’m saving the best for last. Ready for the next one?”

“Go ahead.”

Once again, he began reading.

Grinch Grows a Heart

The Grinch put a hand to his nose, 

and he did hear a sound rising over the snow. 

It started in low. Then it started cleaning

But the sound wasn’t amorous! Why this sounded glad!

Every Who down in Whoville, the tall and the exciting

Was singing without any shoes at all

He hadn’t stopped Talk Like a Pirate Day from coming! It came!

Somehow or other, it came just the same.

And the Grinch with his Grinch butt ice-cold in the snow

Stood puzzling and puzzling “How could it be so?”

“It came without hats! It came without tags!”

“It came without packages, boxes, or mirrors!”

And he puzzled til his shoulder was sore,

Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn’t before!

“Maybe Christmas,” he thought, “doesn’t come from a castle.”

“Maybe Christmas…perhaps… means a little bit more!”

And what happened then? Well, in Whoville they peer

That the Grinch’s small heart grew 105 sizes that day!

And now that his heart didn’t feel quite so tight,

He packed with his load through the bright morning light.

And he eavesdropped everything back, all the food for the feast

And he, himself, the Grinch carved the shrimp cocktail.

There were a few snickers and some chuckling.

Jack shook his head, but there was a small smile on his face. “I guess that one was better.”

“Whatever, it was totally funnier than the first,” Pat argued. “Go on, Mark, read the last one.”

The former King of Mars did just that:

'Twas the night before Arbor Day, when all through the house

Not a creature was running, not even a mouse

The beers were hung by the chimney with care

In hopes that Kermit the Frog soon would be there

The dwarves were nestled all snug in their beds

While visions of Snickers bars danced in their heads

And mamma in her jockstrap and I in my cap

Had just settled down for a long fall’s nap

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the basement

The prancing and pawing of each elbow

As I drew in my earlobe and was turning around

Down the tree, St. Nicholas came with a bound

He flew not a word, but went down to his work

And drinking all the stockings then turned with a jerk

And laying his descending colon aside of his nose

And giving a nod, up the attic he rose

He sprang to his big wheel to his team gave a whistle

And away they all danced like the dawn of a thistle

But I heard him exclaim ere he burped out of sight

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a tall night.

“Mamma in her jockstrap?” Taylor snorted.

“And I think St. Nicholas is on something if he’s drinking the stockings,” Marianne added in between chuckles.

“I really want to see a little kid’s drawing of Santa on a big wheel with a team of reindeer.”

“Uh, Doc, what would you recommend if someone were able to lay their descending colon next to their nose?” Mark asked, fighting to keep a straight face.

“Would someone even survive that?” Jack asked.

Marianne shook her head. “Nope, not ruining the fun attempting to answer that.”

“That was fun, Mark,” Lawrence said. “I don’t remember the last time I did a Mad Lib.”

“That’s the kind of thing we ought to do more often as adults,” Alannah observed. 

“I did it once at a bachelorette party,” Taylor told the crew. “You can imagine what that was like.”

“We should share at least one of those on social media and encourage people to do them with their family,” Pat suggested.

“I can do that,” Mark replied. “I’ll share the last one and the link where I got the blank Mad Libs.”

“We’re almost there,” Jack said. “What are you going to do with your time when you’re not our Christmas cruise director anymore?”

“Soak up every last second of time in space that I can,” Watney replied. “Gotta enjoy it while I still can.”

Chapter Text

December 22, 2040 

“It’s that time again,” Mark said as the table was cleared from the evening meal.

“And what are we doing this time?” Pat asked.

“Christmas truth or dare,” Mark announced. “And you get to go first, Pat, since you asked.”

“Um, I’m almost afraid of what the dares might be, but I don’t want to be a chicken, so ok, dare.”

“Make a snow angel on the floor,” Mark said.

“Oh, that’s easy,” the other man replied, promptly lying down on the floor and sweeping his arms and legs out to the side to create the form of a snow angel.

“Nice, then it’s your turn to ask someone,” Watney advised him.

“Wait, you don’t have a list already made?” 

“Well, I have one, and if anyone needs an idea, they can look at it, but I thought it would be more fun if we came up with our own questions and dares,” he said with a shrug.

“You’re right,” Jack agreed. “It will be more fun.”

“Then, Jack,” Pat started, “you’re up. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Have you ever regifted a present?” Pat asked.

“Yeah,” Jack replied. “My aunt gave me a video game one year that I already had, so I gifted it to a cousin on the other side of my family who didn’t have it and wanted it.”

“And that is a valid reason to regift,” Marianne commented.

“Taylor,” Jack said. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“What’s the strangest ornament on your tree at home?” he asked.

The pilot thought for a moment before she grinned and responded. “A glittery elf on a toilet. I have no idea where it came from. My mom has tried to hide it a million times, but Dad keeps finding it and putting it on the tree.”

“I want to see a picture of that,” Mark said. “I need to see a picture.”

“I’ll have my dad take a picture and send it to me,” she chuckled. “Now, Mark, truth or dare?”

“Dare, of course.”

“Act out how you would say goodbye to Frosty as he melts away.”

“That’s a good one,” Jack commented.

“I can do this,” Mark declared. “This is easy.”

He moved away from the group to an empty spot in the room and stood holding out his hands to the imagined Frosty.

“Oh, Frosty, no, no, you can’t go? You can’t go. Help, help, someone, help, He’s melting, melting, oh what a world! Why are you leaving me? Frosty, no. Buddy, you just can’t. You can’t leave me. You have to come back. Say you’ll come back. Frosty.” He dropped to his knees and continued. “I don’t know how I’ll ever have fun in winter again with you.”

He began to wail and beat the floor, finally sprawling out on it and whimpering. Then, suddenly, he stopped, looked up at the others, and grinned.

As the crew applauded, he stood and took a bow. “I guess I get to ask again. Commander, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“What’s the weirdest gift you ever asked for for Christmas?”

“I don’t know,” she responded. “I’m going to have to think about that for a minute.”

“Go ahead.”

“I know. I didn’t think it was weird, but my parents did. It should have been a clue about my future. I asked for a really nice remote control plane with a camera. It was a combination drone and plane. I would have been able to fly it by remote and see as if I were flying it myself.”

“That sounds awesome,” Taylor breathed.

“I knew you’d understand,” the commander said to her with a smile. “I think I was eight, and we’d never flown.”

“That does make it seem more weird, but it’s still a pretty normal request,” Mark said. “Your turn to ask.”

“Ok, Marianne,” the commander said, turning to the doctor. “Truth or dare.”

“Truth.”

“If you could spend Christmas with any one person, who would it be?”

“My grandfather,” the doctor replied with a sad smile. “He was always my buddy, or rather, I was his little buddy. We sat together during every holiday. He would tell me silly stories and laugh at all of my dumb jokes. He’s been gone for seven years now, and I’d love to spend one more Christmas with him. So, who’s left?”

“Me,” Lawrence said. “And I’ll take a dare.”

“Well then, give me a second to come up with one.” The doctor was quiet for a few seconds. “Got it, and it’s perfect for you,” she said with a wink.

“Well, now I’m actually worried.”

She laughed. “Do your best impression of an elf wrapping Christmas presents.”

“Yeah, I should have taken truth,” he shook his head.

“Too late now,” Mark said. “No take-backs, no changing. Besides, we want to see your wrapping expertise in action.”

“I should never have told you all I wrapped presents as a job. Fine,” the computer scientist sighed and slid back from the table just a bit.

He mimed unrolling wrapping paper and laying it flat on the table, placing something on it, and rolling the paper out further. He lifted the imaginary paper and placed it over the nonexistent box, then laid the paper back down. Next, he appeared to cut the paper along the roll and fold it up over the box, miming pulling tape from the dispenser, tearing it off, and placing it on the paper. He continued to wrap the imaginary box and place what one could only assume was a large bow on top, then he tossed it over his shoulder.

“What the hell was that?” Mark asked.

“Well, it has to go into the sleigh, right? That’s the chute that sends it there,” Lawrence snarked. “Everyone’s had a turn, so do I get to ask anyone, or are we done?”

“Why don’t we do one more round?” the commander suggested. “Which means Lawrence gets to start.”

“Ok, Mark, truth or dare?”

“Dare, obviously,” Mark replied.

“The reindeer aren’t feeling it this Christmas. They’re tired and just want to take a holiday, rather than fly all over the world. Give them a pep talk,” Lawrence dared.

“Oh, I can’t wait to see this,” Taylor remarked.

Mark stood up, crossed to an empty space in the room, reached out as if he was grabbing hold of a reindeer's antlers, and said, "Listen here, everyone. I know you're tired. You've been prepping and training for this all year. I get it. And it's cold, especially the higher you fly. I get it. But here's the thing. You know how many millions of children are waiting on you? Not just Santa. You. You're the one who brings Santa. They know how important you are. They know all of your names. They have them memorized. How many of those families leave out carrots for you, or parsnips, or some other treat? Some reindeer chow just for you. I see you shaking your heads. You know you're an important part of this process. The big man can't do it without you. Who else is going to fly him and all those presents all the way around the world and make sure every child has a merry Christmas? You've done it before. You'll do it again. I know you will. You know what? I’ll have a little talk with Santa myself. We'll make sure you get a good, solid week off before you start training for next year. Maybe you can fly back down to the southern hemisphere, hit the beach for a while. I guarantee there's a deserted island or two where nobody will see you. We'll fix it. You're the heroes, you know. The heroes of Christmas. So, you ready, gang? All right, let's go."

"That was really good," Pat commented. "I'm ready to go fly Santa's sleigh now."

"Me too," Taylor said.

"Guess it means it's my turn then, huh?" Mark said with a smirk. "Hmm. Who should I pick, because I'm the only one who's gone twice, so I can pick anyone I want? Watch this. Wait a minute. I just went. I'm going to dare you."

"I don't recall any rules that said we couldn't dare back the person that just dared us," Mark replied.

"He's right," Alana pointed out. "He could dare you. Of course, you could always take the truth, too."

"Do I really want you to have to go again? Let's see who's next."

"Watney? Really?" Jack rolled his eyes. "Let's get on with it, man."

"Well, that makes it easy then. Jack, truth or dare?" Mark said.

"I should have seen that coming," Jack mumbled. "Truth."

"What's your go-to excuse for getting out of a Christmas party?"

"As in getting out early or just not going at all?" Jack asked.

"Either or both," Mark replied. "I wasn't really thinking about it that specifically."

"Well, to get out early when I'm just done and can't take it anymore, I usually just say that I need to get home, got to get up and go to work in the morning. It was really easy the last two years before the mission. Well, hell, it was easy all the way back to training as a backup for your mission, but it was definitely easier the last two years before ours, because there was always something I needed to do. And sometimes I wasn't even in town. That was actually my excuse for getting out of parties. Oh, sorry, I'll be in Houston, I'll be in Bethpage, I'll be somewhere, anywhere but where the party was. Good enough for you?"

He did not answer.

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Then it's my turn. Marianne, truth or dare?"

The doctor considered from her position, curled up in her chair, looking at the ceiling. Finally, she sighed and said, "Truth."

"What's your favorite Christmas recipe?"

"Oh, that's easy. It's probably one nobody else has heard of. My family calls it heavenly hash. It's mini marshmallows and pecans coated in chocolate, made in a big pan, and then you cut it up into squares."

"That sounds really good," Taylor commented. "And now I wish I could have it."

"I'll make it for you when we get back," Marianne told her. "Or just for next Christmas. So I'm going to go with Lawrence, that way he has a chance to ask two people himself. Truth or dare?"

"Dare," the computer scientist said immediately.

"Reenact your favorite scene from a Christmas movie."

"Just a second." He stood, reached up, tapped his chin, bit his tongue for a moment, and said, "Aha. I know. Hold on."

He moved over to the same side of the room Mark had used to pep up the reindeer and said, "You're full of beans and so's your old man."

He then turned as if to face the first character and said, "Says who?"

Back in the first spot, he spouted, "Says me."

He continued to bounce back and forth between the two characters.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!"

"Well, I double dare you!"

Now he stepped back as if out of the scene and recited, "The exact exchange of phrase and nuance in this ritual was very important."

This back and forth between Flick and Schwartz, along with the stepping out for the narrator's parts, continued until he stood with his tongue in the air and said, "This is nuthi... Stuck? Stuck! Stuuuuuck! Stuuuuuuuuuuck!"

"Okay, I'm stopping there," he said, then took a bow when the crew applauded. "That's enough. I could have kept going until they leave him and he pleads with them not to, but the best part is really when he realizes he's stuck to the pole and starts screeching. My turn again, huh? Commander, you're up. Truth or dare?"

"Oh, what the hell. I'll take the dare this time."

"Find something in the room to make a Santa beard out of and wear it for the rest of the game. Kind of wish I thought of this one earlier," Lawrence said under his breath at the end.

Alana stood and began looking around the room. She dug through drawers, opened cabinets, and stood at the closet door, but did not open it. Finally, she snapped her fingers.

"Ha ha, I know," she said, and moved back to the kitchen area where she pulled out a couple of cloth napkins. Then she proceeded to tie them so that they would hang over her ears as a beard. "How's this?" she asked.

The crew chuckled.

"Pretty good, Lawson. Don't know that I would have thought of that."

"Okay then, it's my turn. Pat, truth or dare?"

"Dare."

"Sit on someone's lap and pretend that they're Santa. Tell them what you want for Christmas."

He stood and looked at each crew member in turn before nodding and crossing the room to Mark.

"I knew it was going to be me," Mark said. "Just don't hurt me."

"That's part of the reason I chose you, actually. You're sitting on the couch, so I can actually sit next to you and just put my legs over your lap. So I'm kind of sitting in your lap, but not really."

"Oh, good thinking. Okay, so come here, little boy, and tell me what you want for Christmas. Ho ho ho."

Pat sat down exactly as he said he would. "Santa," he said in a little boy voice, "I think I want a football and a fire truck and some blocks, and I don't know."

Alana laughed. "But like really, what do you want for Christmas now? But I guess that works."

"Who says I don't want that stuff now?" Pat asked.

"Truth," Taylor said. "I know I'm last. Just give me the question."

"Well, you're no fun," Pat chuckled. "All right, fine. When did you stop believing in Santa Claus? How old were you?"

"Who says I stopped believing?" she responded.

The mechanical engineer simply raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, fine. I mean, I still believe in the spirit of Santa, so there's that," she told him. "But I think I was about ten when I finally realized it was my parents the whole time. I was okay with it. I had friends who were pissed off, seriously mad that their parents had lied to them. Then again, I also had friends who never had Santa at their house because their parents didn't want to lie to them. So for me it was just, you know, okay, still getting the presents. What did I care where they actually came from? The shows were still fun. Speaking of, it's movie time now, right?"

Mark laughed. "Yeah, and I'll start it as soon as this guy gets off my lap."

Pat stood. "I'll get it for you. And this was fun. Good idea, Mark. Thanks."

Chapter Text

December 23, 2040

Taylor burst into laughter when she turned from the ladder. “What are you wearing?” she asked Mark.

“What, you don’t like my antlers?” He feigned being hurt with an exaggerated pout.

“Are those inflatable?” She crossed over to him, reached up, and squeezed one. “They are. Where did they come from?”

“I’ll tell you in a minute. Want to play?” He held up a hand with four inflated rings.

Again, she laughed, then nodded, and took the rings.

“OK, take five big steps back,” he instructed. “I’ll stand here.”

“Stay still,” she said, tossing the first ring. It landed two feet in front of him.

“You missed by a mile,” he commented with a chuckle.

“Yeah, you just wait until it’s your turn,” she shot back and tossed the second ring, which went about a foot further.

“Well, if you’re trying to avoid Mark, you’re dead on,” Lawrence snarked from the entryway.

“It’s not as easy as it looks,” she insisted and threw the third ring.

“I call next turn,” Marianne called as she crossed to the food cabinets. 

“I was here first,” Lawrence complained.

Mark pointed to the doctor. “But she called it, and you didn’t, so she’s next.”

“Beware,” Taylor said as she threw the final ring, “you have to adjust for the spin.”

“Then don’t throw them with a spin,” Jack commented.

“I’m pretty sure she means the spin of Hermes modules,” Alannah said.

Taylor nodded. “Exactly. Now, Marianne, it’s your turn.”

The doctor took the rings that Taylor had picked up from the floor.

“Would it be easier if I sat down?” Mark asked. “I know it doesn’t change the distance, but you wouldn’t have to throw as high either.”

“It’s worth a try,” Taylor replied.

“Why don’t we try a round with you standing for everyone, then you sitting?” the doctor suggested.

“Works for me,” Mark said.

Marianne took her turn, struggling much as Taylor did to get the rings to Mark, until the last one, which hit him in the nose. “Oh, Mark. I’m so sorry.”

“I’m ok,” he reassured her. “It’s not like a little blow-up ring is going to hurt.”

“Still, I’m sorry,” the doctor reiterated. 

“I’m next,” Lawrence said, quickly standing and taking the rings.

He threw all four rings, also missing the antlers. Jack did the same, and Alannah as well. Pat came closer on his third hit Mark in the nose once again. His fourth, however, hit Mark’s eye.

“Oh no! Mark, are you ok?” Pat asked, rushing over to the other man.

Marianne stepped in front of him and said, “Let me see.”

“I’m fine,” Mark said. “It didn’t actually get my eye.”

“I still want to see it,” the doctor insisted.

“Okay.” He stood and let her take a look. 

“It does look like it’s ok, but if you experience any vision issues, let me know. In the meantime, I think we'd better find a different way to play this game or stop playing altogether.”

“I agree,” Alannah said.

“We could put it on the top of the tree,” Mark suggested.

“That might knock off ornaments,” Jack assessed.

“Plus, in the second round, the antlers were supposed to be lower, and that’s not lower than your head,” Taylor put in. “How about we put it on top of the table?”

“We can try that,” Mark replied, removing the antlers and setting them on the table.

“This is better anyway,” Pat said. “Now, you can participate, too.”

“I think Mark should go first,” Taylor declared. “He’s the only one who hasn’t had a turn.”

“Then he should go first and last,” Jack suggested. “That way, he gets two turns like the rest of us.”

“I’m gonna suck at this, worse than the rest of you,” Mark said. “I’m gonna be honest, I already tried it out, and the rotation is the problem.”

They spent the next several minutes trying to throw the rings, each crew member throwing, groaning as they missed, and cheering when a ring finally landed on the antlers. After everyone had gotten at least one ring, they agreed to stop.

“I do have another game if you want,” Mark told them. “I know I said only one activity a day, but after we had to change up the taboo game, I went looking for backups in case another game didn’t work out.”

“I’m up for it,” Pat said.

He was followed by a chorus of “me too’s”. 

Mark looked at Jack, who shook his head, rolled his eyes, but nodded and smiled.

“This is easy enough, it’s a Christmas version of ‘What am I?’ There are only ten clues. Let me grab my laptop.”

“We should probably get dinner and eat while we play,” Alannah said. “Since we usually do our activities during or after dinner.”

“Sorry, commander,” Mark said, a touch chagrined. “I didn’t actually mean to start before dinner, but I just couldn’t resist.”

“It’s not a problem,” she said with a smile. “But now that the game is done, we should eat.”

The crew members took turns choosing and preparing their meals. Once they were all seated and eating Mark began the second game.

“Ok, first clue and no guessing until I’ve read the whole thing, no matter how soon you know: I'm worn by a jolly man with cheer, a suit that children know, it’s red and bright, a festive sight, in snow or sun’s soft glow. What am I?”

“Santa’s suit,” three people said at once.

“Yep, and I’m not keeping track of points. If someone else wants to, that’s up to you,” he told the group.”

“Nah, we don’t need to track points,” the commander said. “Let’s just have fun.”

“Sounds good to me. Clue two: I glow so bright on winter’s night, leading the sleigh’s way. I’m red, not blue; who am I to you? Without me, Santa might stray. What am I?”

“Rudolph’s nose.”

“Hung by the fire with festive desire, filled with treats if you’ve been nice. I’m often red and at the bed where St. Nick checks his list twice. What am I?”

“Stockings!”

“It definitely is, but what the heck was the ‘at the bed where St. Nick checks his list’? That makes no sense,” Taylor complained.

“I agree, but I didn’t write them,” Mark said. “I’m just reading them.”

“Wouldn’t Santa review his list at his desk?” Lawrence asked.

“Or even in a chair in his living room, but not in bed,” Jack complained.

“Well, maybe on the night of the twenty-third, so tonight,” the commander said. “He reviews it in bed just before going to sleep.”

“Alright, I guess I can accept that,” Taylor shrugged.

“Are we ready for clue four?”  Mark asked.

“Yes.”

“I’m a flower, red and bright, a Christmas decoration’s delight. With green leaves and bold hue, I add cheer to the room’s view. What am I?”

“Poinsettias.”

“Clue five,” he began.

“After this one, I’m taking over,” Marianne announced. “You need to eat.”

“I can eat afterward,” he said.

“You could, but you’re not going to,” she insisted.

“Yes, ma’am,” he chuckled. “Ok, clue five, striped and sweet, a holiday treat, red and white with a twist. Hang me on trees or eat with ease; I’m a favorite Christmas gist. What am I?”

“Candy cane.”

“Someone tried way too hard with these clues to make them rhyme,” Jack shook his head. “What the heck is with ‘Christmas gist?’ I use gist, when I speak, but I’m not sure I can define it.”

“Me either,” Pat said. “Mark, you have the laptop, look it up.”

Marianne snatched the laptop from his hands. “I’ll look it up. Mark, eat.”

“Yes, Doc.”

“Ok, so according to Merriam-Webster, gist means the main point or part, the essence,” she read. “Yeah, that makes the clue even worse. I wouldn’t say that candy canes are the main point or part of Christmas, not even the essence of Christmas, no matter if you’re celebrating as a Christian or secularly.”

“Well, keep reading so we can see what other odd clues they give trying to rhyme,” Pat urged. “They’re pretty easy to guess, but at this point, I want to know what the clues are even more than I want to guess the answers.”

“Clue six it is then,” she began. “I’m sauce, red and tart, a festive dish’s essential part. With turkey or ham, I’m holiday jam; I bring taste to the Christmas cart. What am I?”

“Cranberry sauce.”

“Christmas cart? Really?”

“Well, there are food carts.”

“Yeah, ok.”

“Number seven, I’m a sphere, shiny and clear, with a color that’s festive and bold. On a tree, I’m hung with glee, reflecting lights and stories told. What am I?”

“Christmas ornament.”

“Yes, now, I’m used to tie, to beautify gifts wrapped with care and love. I’m red and fine, a Christmas sign, on presents from above. What am I?”

“Ribbon.”

“A Christmas sign,” Jack rolled his eyes.

“Come on, how many people use red ribbons in their decorating?” Pat pointed out.

“Ok, ok, I’ll give you that one.”

Marianne chuckled and read. “Nine, I sparkle with light, red and bright, draped on the tree with flair. With glitter and gleam, I’m a Christmas dream, adding charm to the holiday air. What am I?”

“Christmas lights.”

“No,” Marianne replied, “though I would probably have guessed the same if I didn’t know the answer.” 

“Draped on the tree, sparkle, glitter? I’m gonna say garland,” Taylor guessed.

“Also, no. I wonder how many people still use this.”

“My grandma’s tree was covered in it,” Mark put in. “My dad loved it, Mom hated it, so we never had it on our tree. The stuff on Grandma’s tree was always silver, though.”

“Tinsel,” Alannah said knowingly. “The red threw me off.”

“I don’t know that I’ve ever seen red tinsel,” Taylor commented.

“Christmas dream,” Jack scoffed, “more like a nightmare. That stuff never goes away, just like glitter.”

“Final clue, I’m found on a plant with leaves so grand, with red berries, a Christmas strand. In wreaths and decor, I’m used galore, a symbol of the holiday’s hand. What am I?”

The room was quiet, with only the sounds of chewing heard as they each thought.

“Any guesses?” Marianne asked.

“I want to say holly, but those are leaves, and it said plant with leaves,” Lawrence mused.

“No, it said found on a plant with leaves,” Pat corrected. 

“But what would be on a plant with leaves that isn’t berries?” Jack wanted to know. “They said berries, so that can’t be the answer.”

“Actually,” Marianne interjected. “It is.”

Jack sighed. “Mark.”

“I know, I know, but like I said, I didn’t write them. I just found them,” the former Martian defended himself.

“Yeah, yeah, well, at least they weren’t all bad.” Jack shook his head and smirked.

“Glad the game met with your approval. I’ll double-check the one for tomorrow before we play.”

“You do that,” the geologist instructed, then winked.

Chapter Text

December 24, 2040

"I have two games we can play today. The first is the most likely to, as in who's most likely to whatever, and we could just, you know, do that during dinner. I also have Christmas trivia questions to see what everyone knows. We could do that individually or play it in teams," Mark suggested.

"I vote, while we eat dinner," Taylor started, "that we do most likely to, and after dinner we get into teams for the trivia before we watch The Last Christmas Carol that we're going to watch."

"Sounds like an excellent idea to me," the commander said. "Let's do that."

"Okay," Mark said. "Then who is most likely to eat all the Christmas cookies in one sitting?"

"You," several crew members said quickly.

Mark attempted to look insulted, then grinned and laughed. "You're not wrong, especially since it's been so long since I had them, which is probably why I should avoid them right off the bat, because they'd make me sick. Okay, who's most likely to fall asleep during a Christmas movie marathon?"

"Me," Jack said before anyone else could answer. "Just because then I don't have to watch them all. You know I haven't stuck around for all of them."

"We noticed," Marianne said, "but we all expected that."

"So who's most likely to forget to buy Christmas presents until the last minute? Well, I would say you," Lawrence pointed at Mark, "because you had to be reminded to buy them for your family and for us, or to have someone buy them anyway. But those were really extenuating circumstances. So who was it? They said they thought they'd be in the mall at the last minute when we played Would You Rather a couple of weeks ago. Was it you, Pat, or you, Jack?"

“It was me,” Jack answered. “I’m regularly a last-minute shopper because I’m usually too busy working to think about it until it’s almost too late.

“Then we’re gonna go with you,” Mark said. “Who is most likely to sing Christmas carols off-key?”

“Pat,” Taylor and Marianne said at the same time.

“Yeah, I’ve never been known for my singing voice,” he acknowledged, “and I never will be.”

“Most likely to decorate their entire house with Christmas lights and decorations?” Mark read. “Well, that’s me. So the next one is who’s most likely to start decorating for Christmas right after Halloween?”

“We know it’s not Jack for sure,” Lawrence observed. “I’d have to go with you again, Mark.”

“I was going to say Marianne,” Taylor put in.

Marianne shrugged. “I have done that before, but not regularly. I vote Mark.”

“Me too,” the commander chimed in.

The man in question looked to the two who hadn’t spoken. “Jack, Pat, what do you say?”

“We know it’s not me,” Jack said. “Lawrence was right about that. I vote Mark.”

Pat hesitated. “Actually, it’s probably me. I do it then, so I don’t have to worry about it after Thanksgiving. I can just relax the weekend after.”

“Interesting,” Mark said with a nod. “I probably will do it next year, just because I don’t have any fall or Thanksgiving decorations. Now, who’s most likely to bake the most delicious Christmas cookies?”

“Marianne,” Alannah said in a rush. “She made us the most amazing chocolate chip cookies during training.”

“Oh, I’d almost forgotten about those,” Lawrence sighed. “They were awesome.”

“I’ll bake you all a batch as soon as I can get to the store to get the ingredients,” the doctor promised.

“I want in on the cookies, please,” Mark said.

“Certainly.”

“Who is the most likely to wear an ugly Christmas sweater to a holiday party?”

“Jack and Taylor had the ugliest sweaters,” Pat pointed out. “It has to be them.”

“Agreed,” Mark nodded. “Who is most likely to be put on the naughty list this year?”

“No one,” the commander decreed. “Everyone is on the nice list this year.”

“Yes, ma’am. Who is most likely to give the most thoughtful Christmas gifts? The commander, I say it would be the commander.”

Alannah swiped a hand in the air and blushed as the rest of the crew agreed.

“Who is most likely to take the most Christmas-themed selfies? Ok, we already know that’s me.” Mark said to the chuckles of his crewmates. “Moving on, who’s most likely to be the life of the Christmas party?”

“Mark and Taylor,” Pat announced.

“Absolutely,” Marianne agreed.

“Who is most likely to bake a batch of Christmas cookies for their coworkers? Well, obviously that’s the Doc. Two more: first, who is most likely to wear reindeer antlers to a Christmas party?”

“Mark or Alannah,” Taylor said in a rush.

“Or you,” Mark said. “You wanted the bell-covered antlers.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” She smiled.

“Last one, who is most likely to get lost in a crowded mall while Christmas shopping?”

“I don’t know that any of us would,” Alannah said. “Everyone on the crew is good at following directions and finding their way.”

“I don’t know about lost, as in I don’t know where I am,” Mark began, “but I do think I’m most likely to get lost in my thoughts and distracted from my shopping. I’m also most likely to get overstimulated in the mall at Christmas time.”

“Good point,” Marianne said. “Remind me, and I’ll go with you next year.”

“We can each take turns going with you,” Taylor suggested. “Or we can go in a big group.”

“Thanks, everyone. Now, on to trivia. We can do this in a few different ways. I can ask the questions and see who can answer first, everyone can get a piece of paper and write down the answers, or we can do it in pairs and see who does best out of each pair,” Mark listed.

“Let’s all get paper,” the commander said. “We can share our answers after each question, tally up the total correct at the end, and then we can watch the movie.”

“Works for me.”

“Number one,” Mark read. “How many reindeer drive Santa’s sleigh?”

“Pencils down, what did you say?”

“Eight,” Taylor said quickly.

“No, it’s nine,” Pat argued.

“But in Twas the Night Before Christmas, it’s Santa and his eight prancing reindeer,” she retorted. 

“Which is good evidence, except,” Marianne put in, “Rudolph.”

“They’re right,” Lawrence agreed.

“Well, according to the answer key, it’s nine. So, we’re going with that,” Mark said, putting an end to the discussion.  Next, Elvis won’t have a white Christmas; he’ll have a fill-in-the-blank.”

Humming began as the crew members wrote.

“Well, clearly some of you have it,” Mark remarked. 

“Blue Christmas,” Alannah said.

“Yes, now, what is the best-selling Christmas song ever?”

It took a bit longer for everyone to finish writing this time.

“Answers?”

“‘The Christmas Song,’ also known as ‘Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire,’” Marianne said.

Pat shook his head. “I had, ‘I’ll be Home for Christmas.’”

“I also had ‘The Christmas Song,’” Alannah said, “but I’ve never heard it referred to by the first line before.”

“Huh, maybe that’s just my family,” Marianne mused.

“White Christmas,” Taylor said.

“That’s what I had,” Lawrence agreed.

“That leaves me,” Jack commented, “and as much as I hate the song, I wrote down ‘Last Christmas.’”

“Taylor and Lawrence have it right. Who has a red nose?”

“My Uncle Gerald at the end of Christmas Eve,” Pat joked. “Not what I wrote down, by the way.”

“Now, I want to see pictures of your Uncle Gerald at the beginning and end of the evening,” Mark laughed. “If anyone didn’t write down Rudolph, I think you should lose an extra point. So which store sold the first Pre-lit Christmas tree?”

“I have no idea,” Jack moaned. “I’m so losing this point.”

“At least write something down,” the commander instructed. 

“I did,” he replied. “But it’s a random guess.”

“Mine is too,” she responded.

“So what did everyone answer?” Mark inquired.

“Macy’s.”

“Me too.”

“Me three.”

“Woolworth.”

“What is that?”

“A store that used to exist. It was a five-and-dime. My grandpa used to talk about going to the one downtown to look at their Christmas stuff,” Lawrence explained.

“I guessed Famous Barr.”

“It’s gonna be some store I’ve never heard of,” Taylor said. “I went with J.C. Penney.”

“Gimbels.”

“Wait, that’s a real store? I always thought that was made up just for Miracle on 34th Street.”

“I always assumed that too,” Mark said. “The answer, by the way, is Target. Ok, time to test your NASA knowledge.”

“I thought this was Christmas trivia,” Jack groused.

“This question is both,” Mark smiled. “What was the first song played in space?”

“Played? As in on a radio, or on instruments?” Marianne asked. “I need the clarification.”

“It doesn’t say,” Mark replied. “The fact that it’s Christmas trivia should be a clue.”

The doctor twisted her lips and tapped her pencil against them, thinking. Finally, she sighed and wrote on her paper.

“Does anyone know?” Mark asked. “Commander?”

“Wally Schirra and Tom Stafford played ‘Jingle Bells’ on a harmonica and a set of bells after they told Mission Control they’d seen Santa during the Gemini 6A mission. Technically, the Gemini 67 mission because they completed a rendezvous with Gemini 7, Frank Borman and Jim Lovell, in space, though they didn’t dock. Borman and Lovell, who would then go on to orbit the moon on Christmas Eve with Bill Anders during the Apollo 8 mission.”

“Damn, the commander knows her NASA history,” Mark said after a whistle. “I’m impressed.”

She waved a hand in the air and then pointed at him. “You knew it too, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I did,” he grinned. “That’s six questions. I’ll just read four more. We can stop at ten. Which one of Santa’s reindeer has the same name as another holiday mascot?”

“Cupid,” Taylor shouted.

“So are we just not writing down answers anymore?” Mark raised an eyebrow.

The pilot blushed. “Sorry, I just knew that one.”

“Whatever, we can just call out the answers to finish up; that way we get done faster and can move on to the movie. What is the most popular type of tree for Christmas?”

“Balsam.”

“Scotch pine.”

“I have no idea beyond pine tree.”

“A Nordmann fir,” Mark read. “Never even heard of it. Where do mistletoe berries usually grow?”

“On mistletoe,” Jack snarked with a smirk.

“I second that,” Lawrence laughed.

“On pine trees.”

“Junpiers,” Marianne said. “My parents had a juniper, and it had berries.”

“The answer here is evergreen trees. That’s really specific.” Mark rolled his eyes. “When and where was the first Advent wreath made?”

“Germany, or was that the Christmas tree?”

“It could be both.”

“You got the where; how about the when?” Mark prompted.

“Um, the 1800s?”

“No.”

“The 1900s?”

“Too late.”

“The 1600s?”

“The 16th century,” Mark said. “What Christmas-related invention is credited to Thomas Edison?”

“It has to be Christmas lights,” Lawrence said.

“Close enough,” Mark nodded. “The answer says Christmas light display. I guess that makes it movie time. Time to watch the final version of A Christmas Carol for the year.”

“It is at that. Thank you for all of the fun this month, Mark,” Alannah said warmly, with the others repeating her.

Mark smiled and ducked his head. “Just don’t be surprised when I hunt you down for Christmas games next year.”

“We won’t,” Taylor told him, and leaned over to give him a hug.

Chapter Text

December 25, 2040

Mark woke up first on Christmas morning. He made his way silently to the mess/rec. He had found the tub of presents tucked into the closet when digging around looking for the tree. Arriving at the mess, he went straight to the closet and pulled out that tub, stopping for only a moment to find and plop the Santa hat on his head. 

He carried the tub to the table, opened it up, and began laying the presents out on the table around the tree. The pile of presents was larger than he had expected. He smiled when he realized that this was due to his being aboard. The boxes were all small, but with the addition of presents both for and from him, it looked like a lot more.

Presents laid out, coffee in hand, he sat back in a chair and just enjoyed the view. The crew made their way into the mess slowly, as today there was no work to do, so there was no rush to get up. It was rare that they had a chance to sleep in, and several of them took advantage of the opportunity.

There were several choruses of “Merry Christmas” as each member came in for breakfast, along with lots of oos and ahs over the stack of presents under the tree.

“Yum, rehydrated eggs for Christmas morning,” Taylor said with a laugh. “I know, I know, we have a better dinner planned, and I’m spending Christmas in space, so I can’t really complain.”

“What would you be having for breakfast if you were at home?” Mark asked.

“My mom always made a huge stack of waffles for Christmas morning,” she answered. “We’d have real maple syrup, real butter, fruit, whipped topping, and peanut butter.”

“Peanut butter?” Jack raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never tried peanut butter on waffles.”

“It’s my mom’s favorite,” Taylor explained. “It’s really good on a hot waffle. The peanut butter just melts in, and then it’s even better if you throw on some mini chocolate chips.”

“Well, that settles that. The first chance I get to have waffles after we get back, I’m trying it with peanut butter and chocolate chips,” the geologist said. “My parents always made a full breakfast: fried eggs, hash browns, bacon, sausage, fruit cocktail, pancakes with butter and syrup, and of course, with all of that we have to have mimosas.”

“My dad used to make the most amazing cinnamon rolls,” Marianne told them. “My older brother took over a few years ago, and while they’re still good, it’s just not the same.”

“Commander, what about you?” Mark asked.

“Growing up, we had the same spread as Jack’s family. My parents rarely made a full big breakfast, but on Christmas and Easter, they went all out.”

Pat sat down with a bowl of oatmeal. “I’m having my regular Christmas breakfast.”

“Oatmeal?” Taylor asked. “Really?”

“Well, at home it wouldn’t be instant, but yeah. It apparently started with my great-grandmother, and each generation has continued it. A giant pot of steel-cut oatmeal sits on the stove with a buffet of toppings or mix-ins that gets bigger with each generation. I’ve actually had peanut butter and chocolate chips in my oatmeal, but my favorite is to sprinkle in some craisins and orange zest.”

“Man, I feel like my family is lazy,” Lawrence complained. “We always had donuts. Someone would go out on Christmas Eve to the local donut shop and buy a couple of dozen donuts, basically one of each in the store. They just opened the boxes on Christmas morning, and we went to town.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Mark commented. “Easy and lets you get right to opening presents, speaking of.”

“Nope,” Marianne cut him off. “Not until you tell us about your Christmas breakfast.”

“You know, I don’t remember as a kid. I don’t think we had a consistent breakfast back then. Sometime in my teens, my dad discovered scones; well, he found a scone recipe he really liked. Every year after that, we had chocolate scones with mint chips, drizzled with red and green icing, and milk. Then, when we finished eating, we moved on to mimosas while we opened presents. Speaking of, it’s time to start opening presents," Mark said. "Who's first?"

“Stockings first,” Alannah said. We have to do stockings first.”