"This should only take a few minutes," the tech said, giving him a quick smile. She was young, Herc Hansen thought as he watched the girl scan and prod his Jaeger pilot suit. When did they start making Drift Technicians so young?

Herc and Chuck had checked in Striker an hour earlier at Hong Kong's Shatterdome. He was beyond frustrated for having been ordered to abandon Sydney. The last Kaiju attack had proven just how ineffective the wall project was. Why couldn't the world leaders see that they'd signed up for a suicide mission by decommissioning the Jaegers?

Unaware, he let out a frustrated sigh. The girl's head came up, her eyes wide, searching his.

"Just bear with me," she said. "I'll have you out of here as quick as I can."

"It's not you," Herc said quickly. "You can take your time."

She tilted her head and her eyes searched his face.

"It's the decommissioning, isn't it?" she asked and he nodded, his jaw locking. The girl nodded back, her eyes wide and lips pursed. "Bloody ridiculous, that! Thank God, Marshal Pentecost is not going to take it lying down. Have you talked to him yet?"

Herc shook his head and raising both eyebrows, hoping she would elaborate.

She gave him a quick smile again. "Well, you'll get to it soon enough."

Herc watched her profile as she worked. Her skin looked soft and her movements graceful. When she smiled, her whole face lit up. Perhaps she was not as young as he'd thought; not as young as Chuck. Her dark hair was tied up and she was wearing civilian clothes: boots, dark jeans and a yellow t-shirt under a grey button up cardigan.

He looked away. It had been ten years since his wife died. Since, he'd been too busy raising his son and killing Kaiju to pay attention to women. Sure, now and then, and only in cases where no strings were attached.

And as his thoughts turned to his son, Herc felt a different kind of twinge in his chest, a familiar one that spoke of a different worry and frustration. Chuck was young and fired up with his youth and his ego. Because of the drift connection, Herc knew much more of his son than he would have otherwise. The connection had kept them close, but Chuck was straining under it. Straining to get out from under his father's shadow. Herc understood that. That knowledge enabled him to be patient with the young man. Given time and experience, Chuck would be alright. He would be alright.

"Turn your head towards me," the tech said. She was standing in front of him, her hands on each side of his helmet. Her eyes were deep amber, framed by pale lashes. He did as she asked and she removed his helmet carefully. He felt her warm breath on his face. She smelled faintly of laundry soap.

"You've seen a lot of action," she said.

"Yeah, I'm a bit old," he said jokingly, but a bit self-conscious.

Her eyes went wide. "That's not what I meant. At all. You're not old."

"What would you call it?"

"I'd say you're in your prime," she shot back.

He raised an eyebrow.

"In any case, I was not referring to your age. I meant that the last five years have been really busy for you," she continued, determined to put his assumption to rest. "Ten Kaiju taken out is quite the count! And Striker Eureka is," she paused searching for words, "a beauty!"

"Yep, that she is," he admitted. Striker was linked in his mind to the drift link with his son. It was a very special machine. It was family.

"I'm Andy Tahoe," she said sticking out her hand.

"Herc Hansen." Her hand felt small and cool in his.

"Yeah, I know," she said and smiled wide. He'd seen hero worship before.

There were footsteps behind him and Chuck appeared at his elbow.

"Still here, dad?" he asked impatiently. "There's an assistant waiting to show us to our quarters." His eyes took in the tech and his expression changed significantly.

"Well, and who are you?" he asked, his tone smooth. The girl looked up and raised an eyebrow. As if realizing his bad manners, Chuck gave her a broad grin and introduced himself, sticking out his hand for her to shake.

He could be charming, his son, when he tried to, Herc thought. And he didn't seem to have any scruples against using his almost rock-star status as a Ranger.

"Ops Tahoe," she replied, shaking Chuck's hand.

"Your first name is Ops?" Chuck asked.

"It is to you," she replied with an amused smile. Herc felt a petty satisfaction that she was holding her own. Perhaps the hero worship was selective.

Chuck didn't notice. He strutted a little and took it as a challenge until she good-naturedly shooed him out of the room.

Herc considered apologizing for his son, but she seemed focused on finishing up. He was tired of apologizing for Chuck. And also just plain tired.

"All done," she said shortly. "I'll help you out of the rest of the suit."

With each piece, Herc felt more self-aware. He felt her hands touching him as she removed the Jaeger driver suit. He knew his body was in good shape for his forty five years. He gritted his teeth. He was too old to be self-conscious.

"There!" she said when the last piece was off. "That's as far as I go."

He thought he imagined the teasing tone, but when he looked up, there was a twinkle in her eye. The image of her undressing him flashed through his mind. He shook his head to chase it away.

"That's probably for the best," he said quietly.

"Hmm" she intoned neutrally, but her eyes teased him.

At the door he hesitated. Andy Tahoe had already turned her back to him and was starting another diagnostic. Two other techs came in and started putting the rest of his gear away. He was still standing there unsure of what he was waiting for, when she turned towards him, surprised to find him still there.

"Welcome to the HK Shatterdome, Herc Hansen," she said and then she smiled again, that big smile that made her amber eyes warm up. "I hope I see you around!"

"Yeah, me too," he answered and walked out feeling stupid.