Chapter Text
Prologue
Pre-Launch
You wring your hands nervously as you pace in front of your empty shop window. They’ll be here any minute. World famous space explorers will be in your dinky little shop any minute. Well, they’re not quiet space explorers. Not for another 6 months anyway.
You’re amazed Sue remembered you at all. College seemed so long ago at this point in your life. You were brief friends there. Helpful study partners really. You’d think with all this media attention and national fame of getting ready to be one of the first Americans in space, an old college friend would be forgotten. Apparently not.
They announced the launch two weeks ago. Their coming marriage the week after. Six months to space, but three months to the wedding. It was long overdue, sure, but planning a wedding and a scientific marvel never attempted by man before? Well… it was very Sue Storm, actually.
She called you three days ago, the suits she’d picked for the boys were in desperate need of tailoring apparently. You were admittedly humbled by the fact that she probably could have any choice of designer she wanted for this, but she still remembers your humble little shop. Again, very Sue Storm.
Of course the front door bell chimes when you have your back turned. You turn around with a nervous smile, and there they all are. America's star astronauts.
Sue rushes over without a moment's hesitation, pulling you into a hug, “It’s been too long!”
“Way too long,” you reciprocate, hugging her back warmly. Even despite the different directions your lives went, she was still just your college friend and you missed her.
“Thank you for squeezing us in,” she pulls back, her hands still resting on your shoulders, “Believe it or not this is a good break for all of us.”
“Oh, I believe you. I can’t turn on the TV without hearing all about the Fantastic Four .”
“I hate that name.” One of the men still lingering by the door says. The tallest one. Ben. The pilot, “Makes us sound like a band.”
“And what’s so wrong with that?” The blonde one pipes up. Ah, Johnny. Sue’s hot headed little brother. You met him very briefly once when you’d gone out for drinks with Sue.
“The PR team says it's good marketing. And good marketing means more funding.” And finally Reed, the soon to be super scientist husband.
They were all here in your little dress shop. The Fantastic Four. It was a catchy headline title for astronauts, you have to admit.
“So, this is the whole wedding party?” you ask before awkward silence can take over.
“Here and accounted for,” Sue says, ushering the boys near the fitting platform at the other end of the room, “I’m just here to supervise.”
“As any good bride would.” You turn to the boys and they all stand patiently in a line next to the fitting podium, waiting for instruction. What, had she trained them or something? “Alright fellas, changing rooms in the back. Put on the suits and show me what we’re working with.”
Reed and Ben walk to the back while Johnny strips right then and there. He continues, despite Sue’s scolding. Well, guess he’s going first.
They were navy blue suits, as timeless and classic as they come. Sue always had impeccable taste.
Talk about the launch was inevitable, but they didn’t seem to mind answering any of your probably dumb sounding questions. It was always nice to have an interim conversation while you worked. Talk about anything other than the wedding or the fact that you're touching them everywhere. Why not the other giant thing that’ll be happening to them in a few months? Johnny was the most giddy. Reed and Sue talked more clinically about it. Sciency words you didn’t understand. And Ben. Ben was pretty quiet. He’d smile and nod. Joke with Johnny mostly. He’s the only one of them you knew the least about. Or maybe he was just shy.
Shy or not, his turn for measurements came eventually.
“Arms up please,” You instruct him when he steps on the podium with you.
He does so silently. He’s tall. Really tall, and unfortunately the suit is wide on his lean frame. This’ll take some work. You start making your threading marks down his sides.
“So, Mr. Grimm… big shot pilot. You excited?” You start polite conversation. The other three are occupied in the back of the shop.
“Excited?” He scoffs, “Nervous.”
“For space or for the wedding?”
“Both.” He answers without skipping a beat. “Though it’s been a long time coming.”
“For space or the wedding?” you ask again.
He raises a brow at you with a small smile, “I’ll let you decide.”
His eyes are a sparkling blue. They’re almost boyish. A stark contrast to his clean cut, astronaut persona. His smile’s not half bad either you suppose.
He lowers his arms and you start marking the lapels. His chest is almost too high for you to reach. Almost.
“You're nervous for space then?” you start again.
“Wouldn’t you be?”
“I suppose any sane person would be.”
“A sane person would stay on Earth.”
“You’re nervous to go to space. So you’re not insane, technically . What are you then?” You mumble through pins in your teeth.
“Oh, I’m sure there’s a lot of words thrown around for me. Can’t pick just one.” he says with a small chuckle, “What do you think? What does flying into space make me?”
Your hands pause their work on his lapel. Well, how in the hell are you supposed to answer that? Or is this some light flirting? Men did it all the time when your hands were all over them for measurements. But maybe this is just him wanting some words of encouragement. An opinion from the public. Well there’s only one answer then.
“Going where no man has gone before? I don’t know, that sounds pretty fantastic to me.” You look up at him and he holds your gaze longer than you’d expect. His eyes are kind.
“Yeah… Yeah, I suppose it is.”