[A/N: Sorry this took so long I have been really busy. I would also really appreciate it if everyone could do the poll on my profile page :) ENJOY!]

LOG ENTRY: MISSION DAY 694

My two broken ribs hurt like hell. I hate Mars (almost as much as disco).

LOG ENTRY: MISSION DAY 695

So… A team at NASA has found a way for Beck's chemical bath not to destroy the filters completely. YAY!

….

The small brunette pressed several buttons on the screen to bring up the reactor details. At first glance, everything appeared fine, so she closed the menu and returned to her makeshift lab in the rec room.

…

The Ares III crew assembled by the food storage container for dinner that night. They all ate the same thing. Roast chicken with beans and vegetables. A treat food for getting most of the systems running at at almost peek efficiency, a miracle considering the current situation.

"Johanssen, your Mom (Mum) any better?" Watney asked.

"Umm," Johanssen said, caught off guard, "Improving, slowly, they say she can go home in a few days though."

"That's good," Watney said feeling guilty that he was the reason Johanssen could not be with her parents, Lewis with her husband, Beck with his sister and Martinez and Vogel with their families.

…

Beck sat in Johanssen's quarters. Well, technically, they were their quarters. No, he decided; her quarters. It being their quarters was too weird. Beck stood up from the small amount of floor space the room had and balanced his computer on his hand. He had three emails awaiting him once he opened the lid of the computer. The first, an update on the progress of the team at NASA who were trying to figure out how to better clean his filters. The second email was from Henderson, telling him to send the crew's health reports in by Wednesday (in two days time). And the third was from his sister, Amy, telling him to not be an idiot, and not to die… and so on…

Another half an hour of Beck alternating between reading medical journals and answering emails occurred before Johanssen walked in, looking tired, and basically just worn out. "Want to talk about it?" he asked tentatively.

"Not really."

"I see."

"Don't try to 'doctor' the answer out of me." Johanssen said.

"Whatever you say."

"Might talk about it in the morning."

"Okay. goodnight."

"We act like an old married couple you know."

"So i've heard." replied Beck.

She did not have the heart to continue the conversation. Nor the confidence.

…

Vogel floated through the main hallway of Hermes. He was awaiting a message from his wife about their youngest son. Recently his son had been sick with pneumonia and Vogel was anxious to find out if he was responding to the new medicine that the hospital had him on.

As Vogel passed the rec room on his way to his quarters he heard loud, indignant yelling. "No!"

"Well it's not like you have any better ideas."

"I just don't see why it's such a bad idea."

"Beck…" Vogel heard Johanssen say indignantly.

He stopped and pondered stopping to see what was wrong, but he had the itching suspicion that they would not take kindly to his presence.

…

Johanssen sat on her bed waiting for Beck. They had argued before and she did not want to let that fester. She had seen first hand what that had produced in some of her friends and their relationships. Then again, Johanssen knew she was hot headed, had a quick temper, but that never stopped her before…

"I thought you'd be asleep," Beck said as he picked up her clothes which she had thrown into a pile in a corner. "You realise it'd be a hell of a lot easier on everyone if you just put these," he held up the clothes, "in to be cleaned every once in a while."

"Okay," Johanssen said grumpily. "I'll see you in the morning."