...Yes, I am writing fic less than seven hours after watching the movie. What?
The title comes from "Three of Cups" by Marty McConnell.
It turned out that when you save the world, you tended to become an international celebrity. Even being one of the Becket brothers back in the day hadn't prepared Raleigh for this type of fame.
Something like Raleigh jogging alone became a breaking news story. People speculated why he wasn't accompanied by Max—the dog had become a bit of a celebrity himself, once the media learned that he used to be Chuck's.
"Max isn't even my dog. I'm just taking him on walks while Herc's arm heals. Besides, can't I just want some fresh air?" he asked Mako, who seemed a little amused by his frustration. She was less amused when someone tracked down her hair stylist and offered him a ridiculous amount of money for her hair clippings. Apparently they were a collector's item.
Then there was the press conference.
Raleigh had figured it was a bad idea from the start, but he'd seen the look on Mako's face when Herc suggested that they talk about Pentecost and the other Jaeger pilots they'd lost over the years, about how they'd all worked together to save the world, and he'd known that he couldn't refuse.
Unfortunately, none of the reporters apparently cared about the other Jaeger pilots—though one did ask after Max. All the reporters wanted to talk about, apparently, was if Mako and Raleigh were fucking. Well, none of them put it like that. They couched it in questions like "Are you dating anyone, Mr. Becket?" and "Mr. Becket, Ms. Mori, would you care to clear up the rumors about your relationship?" but that was what they were really asking.
As the press conference had gone on, Raleigh had watched Mako's expression turn more and more wooden, disappointment stiffening her shoulders and resignation thinning her lips into a polite smile that didn't reach her eyes. She spoke in short, clipped sentences when she spoke at all, demurring and not answering any of the many different ways the reporters tried to ask about the nature of her and Raleigh's relationship.
If there hadn't been a million cameras on them, Raleigh would have nudged her with his elbow until she'd looked at him and then would have made a face at her until she'd smiled or punched him. Instead he was forced to settle for smiling politely at Herc in a way that he hoped communicated: This was your big idea, buddy, now get us the hell out of here.
Herc must have gotten the message because a second later he cleared his throat. "You know what? I think we're done."
The reporters protested loudly, but Raleigh was already heading off the platform, Mako a step behind him. Raleigh thought longingly of Mako's quarters, where they could dim the lights and-
"But Mr. Becket!" One zealous reporter thrust his microphone so forcefully at him that only Raleigh's battle-honed reflexes kept it from clipping him in the jaw. "Mr. Becket," the man pressed, either oblivious to or ignoring how far into Raleigh's personal space he was, "you and Ms. Mori still haven't answered-"
Raleigh, his temper already frayed from watching Mako retreat behind a mask, couldn't quite help the edge to his voice when he said, "That'sreally what you want to know? About whether or not we're sleeping together? You came to this press conference not wanting to hear about Pentecost or the Wei triplets or Yancey, but whether Mako and I-" His throat tightened, the words wouldn't come. At least, he thought sourly, his voice hadn't wobbled when he'd said his brother's name. He didn't think he could take a "Hero Weeps For His Fallen Brother" headline.
The reporter started to speak, but someone in the crowd beat him to an answer. "No," the woman called. At least Raleigh thought it was a woman. The crowd was too thick; he couldn't see the person clearly. "I actually wanted to know about the possible medical applications of the Drift."
"Oh!" Raleigh didn't look over his shoulder, but he suspected Geiszler's face had just lit up like someone told him it was Christmas. "Actually, that's a very interesting question, I-"
"Come on," Mako said, her breath tickling Raleigh's ear in a way that made him repress a shudder that a hundred cameras would have caught, and a couple million people would have analyzed. "Let's go." Her hand brushed against his in a way that could have been accidental but wasn't, the gesture hidden from the cameras by the press of their bodies.
Raleigh followed as Geiszler continued to expound on something relating to the possible applications in regards to working with comatose patients. The crowd let them pass, parting like he and Mako were Noah and the slaves escaping Egypt. Or maybe it had been Moses who'd freed the slaves. Raleigh had never really paid much attention in Sunday school.
Still, the crowd let them through with only a few people taking their photos, and Raleigh was almost grateful. A minute later, Mako climbed into the back of one of the limos rented for the event, Raleigh jumped in after her, and the limo pulled away from the curb.
"Man," Raleigh said, rubbing at his forehead where a headache was forming. "Talk about messed-up priorities. I mean, if they'd asked once, okay, most of the other Jaeger pilots tended to be family or a couple, so of course everyone would be curious, but they just wouldn't let it go-" He trailed off when he realized Mako wasn't answering him.
When he looked up, he saw that her eyes were closed. There was a crease between her eyes. She looked tired, the day's disappointment slumping her shoulders. Her hands rested in her lap with a stillness that didn't suit her, not when he'd seen those same hands manuever Gyspy Danger and take out more than one Kaiju. He remembered the strength of those hands as they'd held the staff, as they'd gripped his arm and pinned him to the mat, as they'd clutched him so tightly it'd been hard to breathe out on that raft.
Raleigh didn't think about it, just said to the driver, "Hey, give us some privacy, please?" Once the little thing had come down and blocked the driver from sight, Raleigh leaned towards Mako.
She didn't move, not even when he touched her leg. Then again, he hadn't been expecting her to, just as he figured she'd known he would make the gesture. It wasn't anything like the Drift, not really, but still he found himself anticipating her moves and gestures more often than not, and vice versa. A sigh escaped her when he rubbed his thumb against the inside of her knee, a pleased sound that made him smile. She'd worn a dress suit for the press conference, a somber black outfit that had made the blue streaks in her hair all the more striking. The fabric was soft and thin enough that he could feel the flex of her muscles as he inched his hand up higher, fingers brushing the inside of her thigh in a half-question. Just because he thought he knew the answer didn't mean he was going to push this when she wasn't in the mood.
Some of the tension eased in her face at the gesture, the corners of her mouth turning upwards. Still, that furrow remained in her brow, the slump still not quite gone from her shoulders, and she didn't move, either to urge him on or to push him away.
He hesitated, uncertain now. Perhaps he had misunderstood what she needed. Some nights all she wanted from him was his presence, his arms around her as they slept. Perhaps she needed something similiar now, a different type of comfort from him than he'd assumed. He reached out slowly with his other hand, meaning to smooth away the wrinkle and then cup her face. His hand made halfway to her face before Mako caught his wrist. Her grip was firm but gentle, a silent command he could only obey. He stilled, watching her carefully for any hint to her thoughts.
That same small smile lingered on her mouth, so he couldn't have messed up things too badly. She opened one eye to look at him, and the glint in her eye was affectionate. There had been a knot in his stomach; he only realized it had been there now that he felt it ease as she said mildly, "Don't begin something you won't finish."
It took him a moment, but then realization and understanding dawned and he grinned. "Are you saying I'm a tease?" he asked. His other hand was still halfway up her thigh. He let it drift a little higher still, knowing now what she wanted, and watched as color crept into her face and her smile shifted to something closer to a baring of teeth, a flash of hunger flitting across her expression.
She tightened her grip on his wrist, not quite a warning, and his hand froze in place an inch away from the top button of her pants. "No. I amsaying that you will remember that the driver can interrupt us at any moment."
"Maybe I don't mind giving him a show," Raleigh said with a grin that made her open both eyes to look at him, her expression fondly disbelieving. And she was right. They both wanted this thing between them to be theirs and just theirs for as long as possible, and making out in the back of a limo would probably mean the secret would be out sooner rather than later.
Still, he couldn't resist the urge to lean forward and kiss her, just a brief brush of their mouths, her lips soft against his. "Then how about a sparring match when we get back to base?" he suggested, drawing his hand away from her leg. "Your quarters?"
He was rewarded by the furrow leaving Mako's forehead as though it had never been there, by the way affection softened her features and made her eyes gleam with promise. "My quarters," she agreed. Then she pulled his hand to her lips, brushed a slow kiss against his knuckles before she released him.
The limo was suddenly too small, the tie that he'd been forced to wear too tight. He worked his fingers under the knot, tugging it away from his throat. Then Raleigh turned, knocked on the glass until the driver said through the intercom, "Yes, sir?"
"How long before we're back to base?"
"About ten minutes, sir."
Raleigh didn't have to look behind him. He could picture the amused crinkles at the corners of Mako's eyes, the teasing curve of her mouth as her lips parted in silent laughter. When he felt her stockinged feet come to rest upon his thighs, her toes pressing teasingly into the muscle there, he wasn't quite surprised.
Not being surprised didn't mean his breath didn't escape him, though, as though she'd kicked him. He took off his tie, threw it to the floor of the limo, took in a deep breath. When he cleared his throat and repeated, "Ten minutes," the words came out low and scratchy.
This time Mako's laughter wasn't silent.