Hey, Darling

== Original text ==
Hey, Darling
1st quarter, 2017
Sydney, NSW, Australia
Jackson returns to the Rec room with cookies for the three of them.
"Thanks," says Andrea.
Logan mumbles something to that effect.
"Who's the new girl?"
"Whif one?"
Andrea rolls her eyes.
"With the hair."
"'ark one?"
Jackson kicks his chair. "Indigenous. Get it right, asshat."
Logan swallows. "I was talking about that storm cloud raining on her parade." Glances at Andrea. "Sumthing Darling. I think." He shrugs.
"Her name's Charlotte," Andrea adds quietly. "Engineering." Eyes the untouched cookie.
"Huh." Jackson crosses his arms, tips his chair back. "She on a team yet?"
"Classified," Andrea sighs. "From what I can tell, though, she'd be wearing Command Gold if we did that kinda thing."
"Bet you wish we did, ay?" Logan pokes Jackson in the chest.
Jackson scowls, smacks his hand away.
Logan nudges Andrea. "Think it's love at first sight?" He waggles his eyebrows.
Andrea giggles. "Maybe."
Jackson huffs, slams his chair down, and stomps off.
"Def'nitely," says Logan.
Jackson tracks her down by Vulcan's foot, going over specs.
"Hey, uh, Officer Darling."
She barely looks up. "Cadet."
"I'm a Ranger, actually."
Gets a dirty Look. "I'm busy, Jones."
"Can I help?"
"You traded speed for strength, correct?" She barely turns her head.
"Endurance. No Jaeger can fight longer."
Back to her tablet. "Don't count on it."
"Oh yea? And who made you the expert?"
"Do you want a PDF or a plain text file?"
Jackson crosses his arms. "How 'bout you just tell me?"
"How about you just let me work."
"Listen, Officer—"
"Cadet."
"Whatever. That's my Jaeger yer investigating. I know her like the inside of my head."
"So you don't know anything. Great. Leave me alone."
Jackson grinds his teeth. "Look, Darling, I don't know where you get off—"
"Right here." Chuck flips her braid over her shoulder—Jackson barely dodging the flying end—and strides away.
"For fuck's sake," murmurs Jackson. "Wait up!" He jogs
after her.
Chuck doesn't slow down.
Jackson catches up, falls into step beside her. "I'm not a fuckin' idiot, Darling—,"
"Coulda fooled me."
"—I know what I'm talking about."
Chuck huffs a laugh. "I've seen your transcripts."
"So what?"
"Weak."
"I was third in my class!"
"Behind the Lin brothers." She waves a hand dismissively. "Weak class."
"We—" Jackson takes two quick steps and plants himself in her path. "What the fuck?! The Lins and us have Jaegers! They've already engaged!" He leans into Chuck's space. "What about you, ay? Why aren't you out Rangering already?"
"Because I graduated with the Kaidanovskys and the Weis."
"That's not it. Plenty of Jaegers launched since Alpha. A whole generation."
Silent standoff.
Then it clicks.
Jackson smirks. "You're not Drift Compatible. You've got no copilot ... You're waiting for Chuckles."
"Why the hell would I want a kid for a copilot? I have standards." She assesses him and sneers. "Unlike you, with your mouse crap little brother. He's an even bigger fuck-up than you."
"And yet, here I am with a Jaeger while you're chasing after a kid. Or is it just some kinda maternal instinct?"
"I'm here 'cause Sydney's home."
"No, it's not," says Logan, sauntering to stop next to his brother. "You're from the Gulf. You don't belong here."
"Sure I do."
"You should just go back. Find your family, if they didn't abandon you, and let us folk with copilots save the world, ey, Jack?" Nudges—
And hits the floor with a resounding thud.
"The hell're you doing, Jack?!"
== Possible revisions to first part ==
===Dress Blues===
They stand in the hall behind the auditorium and Logan tugs at his tie. Again. 
Jackson smacks his hand away. 
Logan scowls, slumps against the wall. 
Andrea elbows him. 
Logan glowers, stands straight, tugs—
Jackson smacks his hand away, then sighs. "You've gone and wrecked the knot."
"Fuck you." Pulls at it. 
"I'll do it." Jackson bats him away—
Swats. "I can tie a fucking tie—"
"No, you can't—"
Logan leans out of range. 
"Just let me—"
Logan grabs Jackson's tie, yanks—
Jackson croaks—
Their coordinator shoves him and Logan back against the wall. 
—retreats, head feeling hot and staticky—
The young woman person coming down the hall has long, dark hair in a high braid, brown skin, dress blues tailored even better than his and Logan's, a tidy row of gleaming pins, a person of East Asian descent two steps behind on her right, and four MPs leading and flanking, and, as they get closer, Jackson can see she the person has green eyes and tiny gold studs in their ears and they walk by the graduates without even acknowledging their existence. 
Andrea [hisses], "Do you know who that is?"
Jackson croaks. 
Her eyes blaze. "That was /Cadet /Darling! I was trying to make a good impression! But you two—" Her tiny elbows dig into appendix. "—royally fucked it up!"
"Good," grunts Logan. 
Andrea stomps— 
Chao puts himself in the way, gets to work on Logan's tie. 
[Cut to graduation ceremony, whispering amongst the grads (and Cory) about the people on stage. Kirra's sitting with her shoulders straight, hands folded, head held high, and is somehow managing not to make eye contact with anyone yet seem present.]
===Dress Clothes===
Jackson drags himself back to the gate with cookies for the five of them—
Long, dark hair in a low braid. 
Jackson zips to the gate—quietly, "She's on our plane!!!"
"Thank you," says Chao, taking a cookie. 
Logan takes a cookie. "Whif one?"
Andrea and Chao roll their eyes.
"With the hair? She's on our plane!"
Andrea plucks one, whispers, "Thanks."
Logan mumbles something to that effect.
Feng yawns.
"Anyone know anything else about them?" asks Jackson. 
"'ark one?"
Jack kicks his foot. "Indigenous, asshat. Get it right."
Logan swallows. "Was talking about that storm cloud over their head." He shrugs, glances at Andrea.
Andrea shrugs apologetically.
"She's Charlotte Darling," says Chao, nudging the untouched cookie toward Jackson. "She graduated fourth in her last year's class."
"Huh." Jack crosses his arms, leans back. "She on a team yet?"
"She was on the /Horizon Brave project, but with its cancellation she was reassigned." Breaks his cookie up further. "From the lack of details on the subject, I would hazard that it's classified."]
Jack grunts.
Logan nabs the last cookie, tears it in two, hands half to Feng, who asks, 「Think it's love at first sight?」
「Probably.」 Logan huffs. 「's one of his hobbies.」
Chao queries.
「He's not really Jack if he's not pining over some girl.」 Thinks, shudders. 「Unless he's already waiting on one hand and foot.」
「Ah.」
Logan yawns.
「Is it too early in the morning for poor Wogan?」 snickers Feng.
Logan smirks. 「Yep, and you're gonna help me deal.」 Grabs Feng by the shawl—
Feng squawks.
—yanks, then pushes him down, flops over—
Feng wheezes.
—pillows his head on Feng's gut.
「Sweet dreams,」 says Chao.
Logan grunts thanks.
Poking.
Logan snorts awake, squints. 「Knock it off.」
Feng giggles, shoves Logan's head.
""Now boarding first class passengers for flight [#] to Hong Kong.""
Logan groans, pushes to sitting.
Feng hops to his feet.
"How does she rate first class?" mutters Jackson.
Logan follows his gaze to Darling, at the front of the line next to an East Asian person with a ferocious battle aura.
「Is that the Tangs' doing?」 Feng asks Chao quietly.
「Probably.」
「I don't understand why the mafia is involved with the PPDC.」
Logan blinks. 「The fuck?」
「Apparently, this is a thing,」 Chao replies. 「/We're involved with them, after all.」
Feng concedes.
Logan blinks some more. 「The /fuck?」
Chao sighs. 「Jaegers are expensive to build, so the PPDC accepts sponsorships.」
「Thought Hong Kong was paying for you.」
「It is, but we were recommended to the program by a mafia figure.」
「Ooookaaaaaaay.」
「You're one to look askance at criminal connections,」 points out Chao.
Logan shrugs. 「Just having trouble picturing /you in bed with mobsters.」
「It's a rather roomy bed,」 Chao replies dryly.
Logan snorts—wrinkles his nose.
Feng pats his head. 「Don't worry, Logan. There's plenty of space for you, too.」
Logan swats him away, scowls.
Feng grins.
"C'mon." Jack toes his leg. "It's our turn."
"Fifteen hours in a metal tube with you guys. I can't wait," grumbles Logan, hauling himself to his feet.
Jack grumps, "Feel sorry for /us. We have to listen to /you snore some more."
[As they board, Jack does a really bad job of not looking like he's craning over everyone else to check out the first class section. 
Chao rolls his eyes. 
Feng trips, knocks Jack into the other aisle. 
. 
Jackson mostly doesn't sway up to first class and to a certain row where a certain brunette is halfway through her dinner with a masterful use of chopsticks and the person of East Asian descent is sleeping. "Hey, Darling."
Barely slides an eye his way. "Jones." 
.
The plane bounces—
Jackson flails—teeters forward—
The person of East Asian descent is standing with their hand on his collar, their arm a protective arch over Darling and her supper. 
Jackson croaks. 
"Please return to your seat."
He nods. 
Releases him. 
Jackson slinks off. 
"I'm sorry about that," says [Daiyu?]. 
"No harm," says Chuck. 
"I will ensure he will not disturb you for the rest of the trip." 
Chuck sips tea. 
Straightens tray. 
"I'd get more work done," Chuck agrees.
. 
"Cadet Jones."
He sits up straight. "Ms--Mx." 
She inclines her head, says, "For Cadet Darling's safety--as well as your own--I must ask you do not approach her for the remainder of this flight."
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