Met His Match

Met His Match
2020
Anchorage, United States
[1st quarter]
Tendo Choi's overnight shift in the Icebox's LOCCENT staggers to a close on the wrong side of oh-four-hundred. Thankfully, absolutely nothing interesting or Kaiju-related happened. Even the Becket Boys managed to stay out of trouble. For once. Tendo drags himself back to his quarters, strips down, and collapses into his bunk. Another day (or night) in the life of Anchorage's incident commander enters the books.
Though he reports to LOCCENT for his stint behind the console at twenty-hundred hours, Tendo wears another hat which demands a start much earlier in the day: Jaeger maintenance team leader. Which explains why he's standing atop Chrome Brutus's foot in the Jaeger bay trying to direct the installation of a rebuilt diesel engine when the explosion shakes the entire Shatterdome. Tendo blinks once and finds himself on the floor, flat on his now-aching back, as someone yells “Munitions!” and everyone starts running toward the weapons storage area. Tendo scrambles to his feet and joins the race.
The munitions warehouse looks like a bomb went off in it. Which is, of course, exactly what happened. Bloodied and soot-covered techs in PPDC blue jumpsuits stagger out of the room at ground zero leaning on each other and the first rescuers to arrive. The explosion took out the lights so it's black as pitch in the windowless space. Tendo doesn't have a flashlight and can't see shit, but he plunges in anyway, small emergency medical kit in hand, feeling his way along with his feet and with his hands stretched out in front of himself. He immediately heads for the side farthest from the door, only barking his shins a half-dozen times on the way.
He can barely see the light from the entrance when he hears the whimper.
“Hey!” he calls. “I can hear you. I'm coming for you.” The voice whimpers again and Tendo aims for it. He nearly jumps out of his skin when a strong hand grabs his ankle. “Hi there!” he says, voice cracking only a little as he crouches to try and locate the owner of the hand. His own hand tightens around the one that found him. He assesses. Left hand. Bloodied. Feminine. No wedding ring. He mentally slaps himself for that one. Now is not the time, Tendo, he chastises himself silently.
“I'm Tendo,” he says. “What's your name?”
“Alison,” she answers. Her voice is rough and Tendo can hear the accent of someone native to Anchorage.
“Don't happen to have a flashlight on you, do you, Alison?”
“My toolbelt. Hip closest to ya.”
“What are you, a boy scout?” Tendo jokes.
“Girl Scout. Have more badges than a Jaeger has bolts.”
“Jesus, girl. I only lasted a week.”
“I'm surprised the Girl Scouts let you stay that long, unless you've realized something since then.” Tendo can't help but laugh.
“You can't be too hurt if you're cracking jokes,” he says as he gets hold of the flashlight and twists it on. “How you feeling?” he asks as he sweeps the light across Alison trying to figure out where she was hurt worst.
“Like I got hit by an angry bus,” she rasps. “Dizziness is the worst part. Really banged my head hitting the floor.”
“Yeah, that's not good. We're just gonna wait here for the real medics to show up. I'm not moving you in case you're concussed. I'll do my best to patch up all your nicks and scrapes, though.”
“I'm cool with that,” she sighs. “This floor is pretty comfy.” She smiles. It's a little weak, but it's definitely a smile. It's a great smile. Tendo pulls bandages from his little med kit and applies them to Alison's cuts. Most of them appear small and shallow but they all bleed pretty freely. Last of all, he tapes her fingers and slaps the final bandage onto a puncture on the back of her left hand.
Tendo settles himself cross-legged on the floor next to Alison. “That's all I can do, medical-wise, but I'll hang around until the medics get here.”
“Thanks,” she says.
Alison squints through the dark at Tendo's wrist. “That a rosary you're wearing?” {she asks.}
“Yup.”
“Catholic?”
“Not really. Keep it around in case everything else fails.”
“Hope we don't need it today.”
“Me, too.”
The make small talk for the good twenty minutes it take the medics to work their way down the triage list to Alison. About midway through the wait, the lights return. Tendo gets his first good look at the woman. She has short, spiky black hair framing a heart-shaped face. If he wasn't so worried about her health at the moment, Tendo would call her attractive.
As the medics help Alison to her feet, she thanks Tendo for staying with her and his good work with the band-aids.
“We should meet again when we're both more relaxed,” he says.
“I think I'd like that,” she answers. “See ya 'round.”
After that, Tendo makes a point of tracking Alison down every couple of days to eat a meal with her in the mess.
“If I didn't know better, I'd think you were stalking me,” she teases.
“Me? Stalking? Never!” Tendo places his hand over his heart and continues “I'm hurt you'd even suggest it.”
“You can understand why I'd worry, though, right? The mighty Commander Choi just happens to keep showing up on the far side of the base at exactly the right time to eat lunch with a lowly munitions tech? Smells a little suspicious.” Tendo responds by waggling his eyebrows.
He soaks up information about her as they chat over those shared meals and fills her in on his background.
“I'm a local,” she says. “Dad was a fisherman. Mom was a native. I've been in and around Anchorage all my life. Dad fucked off when the fishery collapsed, looking for work inland. Haven't seen him since,” she says plainly as reading the weather report.
“I'm almost as foreign as you can get,” he explains. “Born in Beijing, raised in San Francisco, came up here with the Jaeger program. Still haven't adjusted to the cold.”
“Aww ... you poor southern baby,” she laughs. “Buy a heavier coat.”
“I shouldn't have to wear a coat to bed,” he yelps.
“Then you'll be cold until you recruit yourself a bunkmate. I'm sure one of those pilots would love to spoon with you.”
Tendo nearly does a spit take. “While I doubt that, there's none of the pilots I want in my bed on a regular basis.” Alison raises an eyebrow. “Never say never,” Tendo continues with a grin.
“Is he bothering you, ma'am?” Yancy Becket asks, walking up behind Tendo and clapping his hands on the man's shoulders. “If he is, my brother and I will happily throw him in a snowbank for you.”
Alison grins. “I dunno. He has been hanging around an awful lot lately.” Yancy's grip tightens and Raleigh steps closer. “Thanks for the offer, but I think I can handle his skinny ass on my own.”
The Beckets exchange a look and burst into raucous laughter. They clap Tendo on the back and roll out of the mess still laughing loudly.
“And there's the famous Becket Boys,” Tendo says from where he's buried his face in his hands. “The bane of my existence and my best friends.”
“They seem sweet. Real gentlemen.” Tendo snorts and Alison treats him to a big smile and a small giggle.
Tendo can't work up the nerve to ask her out. Seriously. He never has to steel himself like this before asking a woman on a date. Somehow Alison has completely screwed up his mojo. It's unnerving.
“How long have you been chasing your lovely ladyfriend, Mister Choi?” Yancy asks during an especially boring staff meeting.
“Two months,” he whispers, embarrassed.
“Two months?” Yancy manages to ask before his jaw hits the table.
“You haven't asked her out yet?” Raleigh howls. “What is wrong with you, man? You sick or something?”
“You've just gotta do it, Tendo,” Yancy says. “Who could resist the delicious Tendo Choi?”
Tendo groans. “Aren't we supposed to be paying attention to this?”
“Eh. We've heard it all before,” Raleigh answers with a yawn.
Tendo asks her the next day. His heart skips beats as she considers his invitation. He almost faints in relief when she accepts. That never happens, either.
His steps have an extra bounce for the four days before the Friday night date.
Tendo's not sure why he's so nervous. It's just a date. He fiddles with his bowtie, then re-ties it for the fourth time. He debates checking its alignment with the level in the toolbox he keeps under his bed before dismissing the idea as complete overkill. It's just a date. He checks his hair one last time and puts on his best suave expression as he strolls to Alison's quarters on the far side of the barracks.
She looks good. She looks very good, in fact, in her layered t-shirts. Tendo's eye immediately latches onto the swirls of ink peeking out from under her sleeves. Maybe, if things go right, he thinks, I'll get to see the rest of that tattoo tonight. Be a gentleman, Tendo, he reminds himself.
“You look absolutely lovely, as always,” he says.
“Lay it on a little thicker, Choi,” she says as she rolls her eyes. “I know I clean up nice, but don't press your luck.” She pulls her coat from the closet with one hand while studying Tendo's apparel. “What's the deal with the bowtie?” she asks mischievously.
“I'm a traditionalist,” he says. She raises a skeptical eyebrow. “What? Can't a guy appreciate the glory of the days when men knew how to dress?” he asks, feigning hurt feelings.
“Nah. I figured you more for the old-fashioned for the irony value type. Books, covers,” she says with a shrug and Tendo laughs.
She shrugs into a heavy winter coat and Tendo links his arm with hers as they set out for the taxi Alison called for them.
“I was thinking Russian cuisine for dinner,” Tendo says. “Something a little unusual.”
“Ooo. Never done that before,” Alison says with interest.
“I've been once. The Russian pilots dragged me.” He pauses for dramatic effect. “They had to carry me out.”
“You better not get that drunk tonight,” she says through a laugh. “I'll leave your skinny ass.”
“No worries. I'll be on my best behavior tonight.”
Tendo takes her coat once they're safely inside the restaurant and helps her choose dishes. Conversation and tea flow freely. They trade gossip, compliments, and flirtations.
Stuffed full of the best Russian food Anchorage offers, Tendo announces the next stop is the theater for a movie.
“You really are a traditionalist,” Alison laughs. “Movies are fine,” she says, “But I like music better. There's this place on Division which usually has some good live punk on Friday nights. You game?”
“Totally. It's been a long time since I've heard good punk.” This time, Alison links their arms and leads Tendo through the cold for the short walk to the club.
Alison's taste in music matches Tendo's almost perfectly. The place pulses in time to the band with which Tendo falls in love by the end of the second song. “Told you this place was good,” Alison yells in his ear as she hands him a bottle of local beer.
“I'll never question your taste again,” he shouts back and raises his bottle in salute. They dance and enjoy the hell out of themselves deep into the second set. Taking a breather at the edge of the room, they lean into each other to make themselves heard. Tendo still struggles to hear Alison through the din, so you really can't blame him for not noticing the very angry, very large dude until he stomps into his personal space.
“The fuck do you think you're doing with my girlfriend, asshole?” the guy roars.
Tendo calls up his battle aura and calmly responds, “Dancing and buying her drinks.”
“Look, you little shit, she's my girlfriend! I don't care who you think you are, you don't mess with another man's girl,” the guy yells.
“She's an adult, my man. She can make her own decisions about who she hangs with.”
“Don't make excuses, asshole! Get out of here and leave her alone!”
“I'm going nowhere unless she asks me to.”
“You wanna go, Bowtie?” the big man snarls. “Let's take this outside.”
“Jesus christ, Eli! What are you? Twelve? We broke up two weeks ago!” Alison yells. “C'mon, Tendo. This place totally attracts the wrong crowd.” She tows him by the arm right past the seething Eli and out the front door.
A cab ride later they wind up in a basement bar Tendo's never seen before. The place has the heat and the music cranked up and the booths are so small Alison almost has to sit in his lap. Not that Tendo minds. Alison seems to be down with it, too.
“Sorry about the asshole,” she shouts over the music.
“Assholes are occupational hazards for professional charmers like me,” he answers with a wide grin.
Alison laughs. The instant Tendo hears it, he knows he's completely screwed. Her laugh isn't 'musical' or 'dainty'. It's a great guffawing, wall-shaking beast. To Tendo, it's the most wonderful thing he's ever heard. Too busy trying to force his lovestruck synapses to fire, he doesn't process Alison's smack to his shoulder or notice when she starts to look at him with concern. He. Just. Stares.
“Did I break you?” she asks between continued giggles. “You don't seem to be breathing anymore.”
“Oh? What? Sorry.” Tendo runs his hand over his slicked-back hair. “I was somewhere else for a minute,” he finally says.
“And just where was that, hmm?”
“Tropical island, white sand beach, you in a bikini with one of those umbrella fruity drinks in your hand.”
“Ugh,” she says as she wrinkles her nose. “I hate those things. Too sweet.”
“How about an umbrella in your beer, then?”
“That sounds like a great idea.” She pauses for a pull on her bottle. “And I want a red bikini, by the way. It's my best color.”
“You've got it, Alison.”
“Excellent. To red bikinis, tropical islands, and umbrellas in our beers,” she yells and clinks her bottle against Tendo's.
He decides right then and there he's going to marry this woman.
The rest of the night is a bit blurry, what with all of the beer and being drunk on love. Somehow, Tendo manages to pry himself off the new love of his life after a goodnight kiss outside her quarters and hauls his sorry ass back to his bunk without major incident. He dreams of white beaches.
The next night ... . Well, the next night sucks.
It starts well enough. Knifehead the Category Three Kaiju swims its way across the Pacific and PPDC Command send old Romeo Blue out to take care of it. Romeo turns out to be too slow and Knifehead gets free passage to Anchorage. “Time to go to work,” Tendo mumbles as he cracks his knuckles. The Becket Boys saddle up Gipsy and he banters with them like usual.
“How did your date with Alison go last night, Mister Choi?” Yancy asks and Tendo can hear the waggled eyebrows in his voice.
“Oh, she loved me. Her boyfriend, not so much,” he answers, matching Yancy's jocular tone.
“You're gonna get your ass kicked,” Raleigh laughs.
“A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do, brother,” Tendo responds before LOCCENT turns all business with the arrival of Marshal Stacker Pentecost.
The Becket Boys decide to be the Becket Boys and disobey orders. Knifehead kills Yancy and messes up Gipsy. Comms go down. They're not supposed to fail. Ever. No one in LOCCENT knows if Raleigh is dead or alive. To make it worse, Pentecost retreats to his office and leaves Tendo responsible for locating whatever's left of Raleigh and Yancy and Gipsy.
I can't believe this, he thinks. I'm in charge of finding my best friends' bodies. This has to be a nightmare. This better be a nightmare. Please, god, let it be a nightmare, he begs as he squeezes the cross at the end of his rosary until it leaves a deep imprint on his palm.
Tendo hasn't left his seat at the console since the Icebox got the 'incoming' alert at oh-one-hundred when Alison appears with a cup of coffee for him at oh-six-hundred. He's drunk enough of the stuff this shift to be fibrillating if his heart hadn't been ripped out of his chest. Alison pulls an empty chair from the fringe of the room over next to Tendo's and holds his hand, the one with the watch and rosary at the wrist. Techs aren't allowed in LOCCENT, but after Alison fixes the first guy who looks like he's going to make something of it with a look that promises grievous bodily harm, no one troubles her.
She sits silently with Tendo through three hours of no news. Along with all of LOCCENT, she holds her breath when the call comes in that Gipsy staggered ashore with Raleigh at a snow-covered beach near Nikiski and Tendo sends a medevac to bring him back to the Icebox. With that, Tendo's shift at LOCCENT ends.
Alison walks with him back to his quarters. Truth be told, she almost carries him. She sits with him on the edge of his bed after they pull off their boots and returns to holding his hand as soon as he's unshod. He leans on her, soaking up her warmth. “It's a terrible night—day, whatever—but this is sure as hell a pleasant way to end it,” the incessantly cheery voice in the back of Tendo's head offers. He sighs and starts to lie down.
To his surprise, Alison makes no move to leave. Instead, she presses herself to his back and wraps her strong arms around him. “Don't you ... ,” he begins.
“Nah,” she says quietly. “I already told my foreman I wasn't coming. I knew you'd need somebody.”
“Esperanza Alison Molina, I'm going to marry you,” Tendo slurs as
sleep takes hold.
“You're welcome to try, tiger,” she chuckles and softly kisses the nape of his neck.
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