Pacific Rim One-Shot: A Small, Good Thing
Title: A Small, Good Thing
Rating: G
Words: Approx. 500
Summary: Raleigh and Mako the morning after they close the breach.
Notes: For the prompt "Coffee" on my JaegerCon Bingo Card. Title borrowed from the Raymond Carver short story.
A glooming peace this morning with it brings, the sun for sorrow will not show his head.
--William Shakespeare; Romeo and Juliet
---
The morning after they closed the breach, the canteen felt deserted. Compared to the clamor and the frenzy of Rangers and engineers and crew with the war clock ticking overhead, Raleigh found the calm and the quiet unsettling.
He didn’t care to eat, but poured himself a cup of coffee with three sugars to appease his already churning stomach. The drift hangover was one of the worst he had every experienced, and the feeling of aloneness inside his head wasn’t helped by the fact those left in the Shatterdome could not seem to decide whether they ought to celebrate or mourn.
Of the Rangers, only three were left. There was no sign of Herc in any of the public areas. About 12, Max padded down the aisle of the canteen. One of the lady mechanics set her plate of scrambled eggs and rashers onto the floor for him. Max sniffed the food and turned circles around himself before flopping onto his belly beside the table.
Mako brought her own tea into the mess. Loose leaves of Assam in a bone china teapot, much too delicate for the Shatterdome; a comfort object. She filled the pot with hot water from the carafe at the buffet table. She placed a handful of the little creamers on the tray-they were playing fast and loose with the rations this morning-and crossed the room to sit down beside him.
He didn’t even have to look up to feel the hot tears that stung her eyes as she looked down at the tea. He reached over to her, fingertips just meeting hers.
A blue-tinted memory rose to the surface of his mind of Mako sitting on the floor, drinking green tea with her family. The way Pentecost had finally gotten her to laugh when she saw him pouring milk into dark, strong tea. Yancy yawning over his morning cup of coffee: dark sludge, but he drank it anyway, otherwise he’d nod off two minutes into mid-morning meditation.
Raleigh slid his hand closer, connecting with hers from the wrist to the tip of her little finger. Mako sighed and poured the tea. She offered him one of the small cups, held carefully between her hands.
Raleigh turned his head, lifting his own well-used mug to his lips and took a drink of coffee. Mako clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. Raleigh glanced at her from the corner of his eye.
Did you just taste my coffee?
Raleigh half-expected her to answer. Instead she took the mug and sniffed the tepid liquid skeptically before adding two packets of creamer to the mug. She took a small sip of the liquid and, apparently satisfied that it was more palpable, set the mug back down in front of him before beginning to sip her own tea.
Raleigh imagined he could feel the warmth of it filling his chest and belly as he returned his attention to his own cup. He supposed he could learn to take coffee with cream.
---
All worries are less with soup
--Jewish Proverb
Rating: G
Words: Approx. 500
Summary: Raleigh and Mako the morning after they close the breach.
Notes: For the prompt "Coffee" on my JaegerCon Bingo Card. Title borrowed from the Raymond Carver short story.
A glooming peace this morning with it brings, the sun for sorrow will not show his head.
--William Shakespeare; Romeo and Juliet
---
The morning after they closed the breach, the canteen felt deserted. Compared to the clamor and the frenzy of Rangers and engineers and crew with the war clock ticking overhead, Raleigh found the calm and the quiet unsettling.
He didn’t care to eat, but poured himself a cup of coffee with three sugars to appease his already churning stomach. The drift hangover was one of the worst he had every experienced, and the feeling of aloneness inside his head wasn’t helped by the fact those left in the Shatterdome could not seem to decide whether they ought to celebrate or mourn.
Of the Rangers, only three were left. There was no sign of Herc in any of the public areas. About 12, Max padded down the aisle of the canteen. One of the lady mechanics set her plate of scrambled eggs and rashers onto the floor for him. Max sniffed the food and turned circles around himself before flopping onto his belly beside the table.
Mako brought her own tea into the mess. Loose leaves of Assam in a bone china teapot, much too delicate for the Shatterdome; a comfort object. She filled the pot with hot water from the carafe at the buffet table. She placed a handful of the little creamers on the tray-they were playing fast and loose with the rations this morning-and crossed the room to sit down beside him.
He didn’t even have to look up to feel the hot tears that stung her eyes as she looked down at the tea. He reached over to her, fingertips just meeting hers.
A blue-tinted memory rose to the surface of his mind of Mako sitting on the floor, drinking green tea with her family. The way Pentecost had finally gotten her to laugh when she saw him pouring milk into dark, strong tea. Yancy yawning over his morning cup of coffee: dark sludge, but he drank it anyway, otherwise he’d nod off two minutes into mid-morning meditation.
Raleigh slid his hand closer, connecting with hers from the wrist to the tip of her little finger. Mako sighed and poured the tea. She offered him one of the small cups, held carefully between her hands.
Raleigh turned his head, lifting his own well-used mug to his lips and took a drink of coffee. Mako clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. Raleigh glanced at her from the corner of his eye.
Did you just taste my coffee?
Raleigh half-expected her to answer. Instead she took the mug and sniffed the tepid liquid skeptically before adding two packets of creamer to the mug. She took a small sip of the liquid and, apparently satisfied that it was more palpable, set the mug back down in front of him before beginning to sip her own tea.
Raleigh imagined he could feel the warmth of it filling his chest and belly as he returned his attention to his own cup. He supposed he could learn to take coffee with cream.
---
All worries are less with soup
--Jewish Proverb