Hello Pacific Rim fandom!

I come bearing a thing. My first thing, to be exact. The first of several? Many? I have no idea. But here it is.

Please enjoy, and as is usual for the fic author, I own nothing!

It was true what they said.

When you Drift with someone for so long, you stop finding things to talk about. Words are almost useless between Jaeger pilots, when a handful of Drifts can tell one almost everything about the other: memories, fears, joys, deepest disturbing secrets and beyond.

A few weeks after the closing of the Breach, Raleigh found that this was just as true for he and Mako, even when they'd only joined in the Drift a few short times.

It didn't seem to bother her so much, when she was used to communicating in body language and short, meaningful clips; she was the daughter of Stacker Pentecost after all, and God knew that man had never been a chatterbox.

The Shatterdome was not quite as bustling as it had once been, half its crew departing to help in the worldwide cleanup efforts, the other half staying behind to help maintain the necessary gear to put toward said cleanup. Maybe it was the lingering quiet that finally set his teeth on edge, bringing him to cross the hall to her room late one night.

He always wanted to spend time with her, silent or otherwise, but tonight, he wanted to hear her voice.

She opened the door after one rap of his knuckles against the metal, and he knew, in his blood, that she had felt him approach and was anticipating the action even before his hand lifted.

They did that, now. He and Yancy had done it too, back in the day.

It was just another part of being Drift partners.

She smiled at him in greeting, and he took a moment to appreciate the way her cheeks creased more visibly since she'd cropped her hair shorter just a few days before. His eyes landed on the new streak of blue in her wispy bangs.

He smiled back.

"I know it's against the rules, but I want a midnight snack. Wanna go steal a cup of pudding with me?"

He grinned, throwing as much boyish mischief into his wiggling eyebrows as possible. She laughed at him, and he wanted to jump into the sound and drown a thousand times.

And then she shook her head, chastising,

"Even with so many gone we have to ration the good stuff; you know that."

"No one's going to notice a missing pudding cup."

"Marshal Hansen will."

"That's because it's Herc's favorite. We've been throwing our sorry butts into all of his 'required media responses' since the day they plucked us out of the ocean. I think we deserve an extra sweet."

Mako leaned back from his face to study it and he realized he'd gripped the sides of the doorway and eased his face just inches from hers, an itchy urge in his brain to bring their foreheads pressing together….

She shook her head again, but she was grinning even still.

"If the Marshal brings it up tomorrow—"

"I'll take the full rap. What's he gonna do, dishonorably discharge me over pudding?"

A shared gaze and they both whispered without words,

Knowing Herc….

The catwalk jutted high above the empty space that once held their beloved Gipsy, and Raleigh stared down into it absently, his memories rebuilding the Jaeger the longer he stared. Beside him Mako sat, legs hanging over the metal into nothingness, the spoon sliding from her lips as she held the half-empty cup over to him.

He took the proffered snack without looking over at her, Gipsy's colossal form towering over them in shades of blue and green.

For a moment, he allowed himself to dream with her, felt her body scoot close as she too slid into the ghost-Drift and watched their weapon and friend materialize and fade and come again in the waves of their collective memory.

And then, with a blink, he turned to look at her. Found her face upturned, smiling at the empty hanger before them.

Remembered why he'd brought her to this place to begin with.

"Sometimes I wish I still had things to learn about you."

His whisper seemed to jolt her, and he smiled goofily at the way her eyes widened at him. A sympathetic purse of her lips was her response, and he struggled not to frown at the silence.

He was done with the silence, now. Not tonight. Tonight, she would smile and laugh some more, and talk to him.

"I can't ask you what your favorite things are, ya know? Your favorite color is blue. Your favorite animal is the crane. You prefer dogs over cats. Your favorite food is eel, but you haven't had it in so long you've forgotten if that's actually true or just something your mom tried to convince you of to get you to eat it. Your second favorite is mac-n-cheese, because it's the first thing you ate after Stacker found you. I could go on, Mako, until I run out of breath. And I know it's something that can't be undone, and it's something I shouldn't resent, but I do regret not being able to ask you about yourself…because there's practically nothing left to ask."

He watched her eyes gloss over, dark brows lowering in sadness at his confession.

He took a moment to scoop some pudding onto the spoon and shovel it into his mouth, bringing a quirk of her lips to clash against her eyes.

Her lips, thin and musing, opened and she whispered,

"I also regret it sometimes. But there's nothing we can do. We know what we know, Raleigh. We've seen each other's memories and we've felt each other's feelings. We've thought the other's thoughts. It's just the way it is…."

With a smack he polished off the spoonful and waggled the utensil between their faces,

"Okay, then. We know each other instinctively, but we don't know everything. For instance: what am I thinking right now? This very second?"

Sliding his arm through the safety rail he dangled the plastic cup over the vast hole below, watching her face as she processed his challenge.

Then,

"You're thinking the sound of the cup hitting the floor would echo through this space. Maybe even wake someone up."

He smiled, shook his head. Her face shifted and he caught her eyes, held them.

"Wrong. I was thinking, 'Her nose scrunches when she's thinking hard about something and it's cute as hell'."

When she blushed, pale cheeks tinting pink, he felt his face hurt from the splitting grin pulling his lips apart. She broke eye contact, making a face akin to a silent scoff at his comment.

When a moment passed without anything further, he pressed on.

"My turn?"

"….what?"

"To guess what you're thinking."

Lips pursed again.

He loved those lips, God help him.

And then she seemed to relax a hair, glance back over at him and nod.

Arms still laced through the railing he dug into the cup again for the last bite, careful not to miss a single spot of the chocolate goody.

When she spoke, there was a confidence, and for a moment he could hear her shout in the cockpit of their Jaeger, her small voice suddenly loud and fierce, her native tongue slicing into the Kaiju along with their sword….

(And he remembered feeling that righteous rage with her, the release of energy so great it made him want to howl as they cut themselves free of the dragon's grip—)

"Okay, go ahead. What am I thinking?"

Silence. Gipsy Danger disintegrated back into the Breach.

The glob of his dessert jiggled before his vision.

"You're worried that I'm not sleeping enough. And you think taking the pudding was a bad idea."

She pouted for a moment and he knew he'd won, at least partially. She cocked her head then, pretty lips peeling back to flash her shining teeth at him,

"I do think you're not sleeping enough. And I do think taking the pudding was silly. But I was actually just thinking, 'It would be sweet of him to offer me the last bite'."

Something warm and slumbering stirred in his chest as he watched her crook a brow up at him, and then it erupted: a chuckle, deep and relieving and so, so welcome.

"Well, Miss Mori, I was actually just thinking that I'd do just that."

He passed the spoon over and she took it with a happy hum, and they smiled openly, and leaned in close and he sought out her forehead with his own.

Their skulls bumped together and the silence was suddenly so much more comfortable than before, and her eyes shined at him and he wondered if kissing her then would be the greatest idea he'd ever had or the worst.

Because he never, ever had very good timing….

"Here's something you don't know about me, Mako…."

A curious crease to those glossed, searching eyes.

"And what is that, Mr. Becket?"

He inhaled. Dipped down and in and swallowed her breath and made it his own,

"I sleep better on the days I get to really talk to you. And chocolate pudding is only my favorite because it's yours."