Chuck held a small glass vial up to the light in her laboratory to observe the almost clear liquid. It had a slight yellow tint to it that made him want to keep staring at it.
"And you really believe this is worth removing one of my jaeger's plasma cannons for?" he asked Ibira.
"Yes," she assured him, holding her hand out for the vial. In the warmth of her laboratory, Chuck had removed his jacket and stood at one of her many metal tables in a plain t-shirt. When he had first removed his jacket, she could only shake her head from where she stood behind him. 'Ridiculous,' was the word that came to mind, looking at his muscles. Now as he handed her back the vial, she looked down at his forearm. His muscles alone were impressive enough, and they looked even more severe with his tattoo of Striker Eureka's logo on his right forearm.
Nodding at the tattoo of a bulldog holding a bomb in between its teeth, Ibira said, "That's pretty good. Looks just like him."
With a sly smile, Chuck replied, "It would've been a grave injustice to not get it accurate for someone so handsome."
Not cracking, Ibira met his eyes and said, "Max is a very handsome dog."
Returning the vial to the refrigerated cabinet she had pulled it from, Ibira cleared her throat and said, "I…I watched a few of your missions from the Syndey LOCCENT. And I've reviewed all the Striker Eureka mission reports. I know that doesn't make me any sort of expert, but Eureka has the best chance of success with this serum. We both know even the Mark 4's don't have the agility, and I don't even want to think about a Mark 3 trying to pull it off."
Chuck watched her as she spoke and absentmindedly organized papers on a desk, and tilted his chin up at the expression of familiarity on her face as she mentioned Mark 3s.
"Well, there's no denying Eureka is the best," he agreed. Now he was walking along the array of metal desks covered with a complex arrangement of glass bottles, tubes, wiring and various colored liquids. Some of them gently bubbled though most of them seemed to be doing nothing. "Flattery won't convince me though."
"I would never presume it would," she replied, now facing him as she leaned back on a desk. "What does your father think of this?"
With a severe eye roll, Chuck moreso thought aloud than answered, "Pentecost and my father both seem to think you're some sort of genius."
With a gentle smile, she shrugged at him. Chuck was certain he never looked so sincere when he was being cocky. He felt a pang of jealousy in his chest, though he would never admit that.
"And what do you think?" Ibira pondered. Standing there in her lab, where she seemed so relaxed as she studied him, Chuck suddenly felt very out of his element.
"I think," he said, crossing his large arms over his wide chest, "that I have no reason to believe in this, and no reason to trust you."
Considering this, she nodded slowly.
"Maybe that's fair," she said, raising her eyebrows. Walking over to stand in front of him, she added, "But I trust you."
If Chuck had felt off balance before, that certainly caught him by surprise. Furrowing his brow, he turned his face down to meet her eyes more directly. A short wavy strand of her dark hair now hung loose, resting against the warm, brown skin of her cheekbone. He wanted desperately to reach out and brush it away from her face. Instead, he remained still with his arms crossed and a slight scowl on his face.
"That's a lot easier for me, though," Ibira reasoned. "All your success is constantly televised worldwide. I know your kill counts, and your signature moves, and how skilled of a ranger you are. I don't have anything like that to show you. But I can show you what I'm good at, if you give me a chance."
With a slow, deep breath, Chuck nodded. A grin came to Ibira's face, and he noticed a glimmer of mischief in her eyes that he hadn't seen before nor expected. He was slowly realizing that there was a lot going on in her mind that she didn't let on, and it held him near her, whether physically or in his thoughts, like a magnetic pull.
Turning on her heels, she quickly began explaining the process of how she had first started creating her serum. Initially, she rolled up the sleeves of her sweatshirt as she began typing quickly into one of her computers, pulling up images and data for Chuck to look at as she pointed here and there across her lab. At first, he had sat in one of the desk chairs as she stood next to him, but soon realized this would not be a stationary demonstration once Ibira began fidgeting with several of the glass beakers and tubes at a desk to explain one of her ideas. At one point, she even absentmindedly pulled him by his arm when he was not following along to her satisfaction, and Chuck was startled to say the least. His skin felt hot where she had touched him. He could not recall ever being pulled around by anyone, let alone by a woman roughly a foot shorter than him and surely a fraction of his weight.
After several minutes of rapid speech and zipping around the high-ceiling laboratory, Ibira suddenly pulled her sweatshirt over her head. Not pausing for a moment in her ranting, she balled up the piece of clothing and tossed it somewhere across a computer desk towards the back of the room. The automatic lights hanging overhead were activated by this, and Chuck saw for the first time that the room they stood in was much larger than he had thought. Looking at the other half of the chamber as Ibira continued, he realized she had a whole bedroom set up there. Seeing her bed, he noticed the blankets were left turned down on one side where she had woken up that morning. It was an unfamiliar sight, as his military training in the Pan Pacific Defense Corps had drilled habits into him like making your bed every morning. He was suddenly overwhelmed with a desire to explore her bedroom more and see what other pieces of her personality he could ascertain from it, but a loud scraping sound drew his attention back to her.
Chuck was yet again surprised to see Ibira removing a large, metal piece of equipment from a steel cabinet she had just unlocked. He instinctively moved towards her to help her carry it but stopped in his tracks as he saw her lifting it up onto a table with a small grunt. As she did, he couldn't help but stare at the muscles in her shoulders and arms, now on full display in the black tank top she wore. She was explaining what she used that tool for, but he had to admit to himself that he was not paying the best attention in that moment. He had certainly not expected her toned physique from the large sweaters he had only seen her in up until then, and was even more surprised by the medley of tattoos that covered her left arm from shoulder to elbow. For a split second, his eyes even wandered to the curve of her cleavage just barely visible at the neckline of her shirt.
"Any questions?" she asked, stopping for the first time in what must have been at least 10 minutes of talking.
"You sleep down here?" Chuck inquired, referring to the fact that all other sleeping quarters were in designated areas of the Shatterdome.
"Off the record, yes," Ibira answered, throwing her hands up in a gesture of admission. "It's a lot easier than hiking across the base in my pajamas when I get an idea in the middle of the night."
The comedic image made Chuck want to smile, but seeing the scolding words forming on her lips to stay on topic he instead asked, "And why is, ah, methylated copper the only molecule that works in the uh…part of the process that you use it in?"
His words felt clumsy and he regretted his question as soon as he started asking it. He would usually never put himself in such a position of displaying his shortcomings, but the pleased smile on her face at his attempt made it worth the embarrassment.
"You really did read my papers," she noted approvingly. After a moment of silence between them, she snapped back into her lecture and explained, "The methylated form of copper has a much larger surface area. And its particular shape makes it very reactive in this serum. Not to bore you, but that is especially tricky to achieve with other elements since the whole serum hinges on a neutralization reaction."
Unsure of what to say, Chuck simply nodded a few times. Truthfully, his head was spinning trying to think back to his one chemistry class in school.
"Did that answer your question well, or should I try it another way?" she asked with a slight tone of worry in her voice as she stepped towards him. She had taken his lack of response as confusion. In reality, Chuck wished he had enough questions to stay there all night, as he was sure Ibira would happily oblige.
Instead he simply said, "No. No, that's not necessary."
Now, Ibira was left not knowing what to say. After saying so much, she was suddenly nervous to push him. Maybe she had gotten too excited. Maybe revealing the complexity of the serum to him only made him more uncertain of its reliability.
To her relief, he added, "That was…perfect. It all was."
Her large eyes looked up at him hopefully, and in them Chuck saw a genuine optimism that he could not deny reminded him of something he had not felt in a long time, or at least had forgotten to feel. He held his right hand out to her in a militant offer. Blinking at his hand in a moment of surprise, she reached out and met his handshake. After one solid pump, it was a deal. They stood there like that, hands clasped together, and Ibira knew she saw a spark of excitement in his eyes, too. Although she was ecstatic, she fought to keep an even expression. Realizing she was still squeezing his hand, she quickly dropped it and cleared her throat.
"Well, alright then," she said simply, exhaling as she leaned back against the edge of a table. Now that she stood still, Chuck noticed a faint scar on her right shoulder that he hadn't seen before. He showed no reaction to this and instead looked around the room again, his eyes settling on her bedroom for another moment.
"I won't keep you up any longer," he offered politely. Ibira chuckled at his generous statement, well aware that she was the one that had practically held him hostage with her lecture. "Can you come by the engineering bay tomorrow at 10 AM? I'll be doing some maintenance on Eureka, and it's probably a good idea for you to get to know her better before launch."
Ibira gave an almost silent gasp to his invitation. It was something she had dreamed of but had never imagined asking either of the Hansen pilots. She knew they were very protective of their jaeger, and non-authorized personnel asking something like that would usually be unacceptable. Especially in a Shatterdome, it was considered tacky to fangirl over the jaegers, so you had to do it inconspicuously.
Nodding, Ibira confirmed, "I'll be there."
With that, Chuck walked towards the large metal doors of the laboratory. Turning to face her one more time, he gave a small nod of his head that just barely verged on a bow, and said, "See you then, Ibira."
As soon as he was gone, she placed one hand over her mouth and let out a small, incredulous laugh. After her second interaction with Chuck Hansen, she again found herself in dire need of rest in preparation of the day to come.