One year later...
After those two nights they tried being apart, they gave up any thought of trying it again. They moved their stuff into old Ranger quarters at the 'dome; shared a tent when Raleigh convinced her that she needed to see Yosemite; and had even contemplated getting a house somewhere quiet when it was all over. They never told the press though; even after all this time, they were clambering for news of the world's heroes. The need for each other had become less and less, but it had become a habit, a ritual for which neither cared to leave behind just yet.
This time they're sharing a room in a hotel in NYC, part of a UN hearing about the final fate of the Jaeger program. The UN had booked a block of rooms for "the team", but Mako had dropped her stuff in his and never even bothered to see her own. It's been a while since they've shared a single bed; there are fewer and fewer interviews and tour locations and UN subcommittee meetings. Raleigh is not sure if he's surprised or not that she chose to be with him.
They jostle each other for mirror space when they get ready for bed, just like they always do, and just like they will when they get ready in the morning.
Mako's standing on the bed when he comes out of the bathroom. "I've never jumped on a bed before," she muses aloud. "Think I should try it?"
"I think you'll hit your head if you try."
"I'm not that tall." But she shrugs and climbs down anyway before she pulls the covers up to her chin.
"Five little monkeys, jumping on the bed," sings Raleigh. When she raises her eyebrow at him, he continues, "One fell off and bumped his head. Momma called the doctor and the doctor said 'No more monkeys jumping on the bed.'" He throws the covers back and lays down. "One little Mako, jumping on the bed," he starts teasing her, poking at her blanket-covered sides, "She fell off and bumped her head. Raleigh called the doctor and the doctor said, 'No more Mako jumping on the bed.'"
She smiles at him and laughs. "You're silly."
He loves that smile and that laugh and he loves to be the cause. He loves to bug her, and annoy her, and tease her much like the way he used to love to annoy Yancy. They are still a part of each other, and his happiness depends on hers and vice versa. He grins back at her.
She stars to curl up to sleep (she always sleeps curled up around the pillow), and Raleigh feels a sudden pang of jealousy. Yes, jealous of a pillow. He has never held Mako for the simple pleasure of it. He has held a trembling Mako in his arms, trying to soothe away the terrors that haunt her dreams; but far more often she has gathered his quaking body against hers to anchor him as he rides out his own fears. He's fairly certain that she can feel whatever fears he deals with; just as he can sometimes feel hers. Ghost-drifting, they call it. The lingering connection of two minds.
He looks at her, and she looks back, her expression bearing the slightest hints of question. Maybe we're ghost-drifting now, he thinks. When Raleigh reaches an arm towards her, she's already pulling herself closer, as if she can read his thoughts (which she practically can) or as if there are magnets in their skin, forcing them together (which there aren't, but sometimes he wishes there were).
Mako fits so neatly against him, as if his body was designed to perfectly accommodate the shape of hers. So he pulls her closer and runs a hand through her short, thick hair. She lets out a quiet sigh in response and nuzzles closer to him. "Go to sleep, Raleigh," comes her quiet whisper.
He can feel sleep pulling at him, and it already has the best grip on him it has had in many nights. But he doesn't want to succumb, not just yet. He wants to explore this new, strange facet to their relationship: what exactly it is, where it comes from, what it means, and why it already feels so good.
"I'm not that sleepy," he mutters back at her, sounding more like a two year-old than a grown man. His statement is punctuated by a yawn.
From the way Mako shifts against him he can guess that his response wasn't sufficient. "You. Need. Sleep." She pushes herself up and glares at him.
Any other moment, he might have been intimidated by her glare, but in this one, Raleigh finds it cute. So he laughs.
She glares more.
And he laughs more.
So she grabs a pillow and smacks him with it. He only laughs harder before returning the blow with his own. At first she looks incensed, but then she starts laughing and the two of them hit each other with pillows, late at night, despite their lack of sleep.
When the pillows are finally settled back on the bed, the atmosphere from before is gone. That moment has passed and they fall asleep as they have many nights, two bodies on one bed, not touching, but just within arms reach.