Below The Hard Deck | A Top Gun Fanfiction

CHAPTER XI

I can't shake the huge smile off my face as I walk onto base. I'm still giddy from last night and it feels as if I'm floating on air. As expected, Specs saw his opportunity to make fun of Maverick and I becoming intimate again as fast as we did and ran with it, but he was incredibly supportive of the situation at the same time. That didn't stop him from threatening to, and I quote, "rain hellfire," on Mav if he even thinks of pulling something like he did thirty years ago. My old backseater didn't even blink at the shocked look I gave him.

"We may not be in the same plane anymore," he replied, "but I'll always be your RIO and have your back."

I rush to my office, hoping to scrap together some sort of lesson plan for training today. That part of my to-do list got unceremoniously pushed aside to make way for last night's festivities and I doubt Cyclone would let us get away with another day of dogfight football. I flop down on the chair behind my desk, skimming over the parameters of the mission which I've read probably one hundred times now. No one has managed to complete the first part of the course in time and I know that it's starting to weigh on the trainees. If they don't think it's possible to begin with, there's no way they'll ever pull it off. The next step is to get them out of that headspace before introducing them to the second, even harder, part of the assignment.

A knock on my doorframe pulls me from my thoughts. "Didn't expect you to be in this early after last night."

I roll my eyes at the voice, not bothering to look up from my work. Try as I might to suppress it, however, my heart flutters at the sound of Maverick's footsteps making their way towards me. "Well, one of us has to be responsible. We do have twelve recruits expecting to be trained today."

He places a cup of coffee down next to me before his hands find my shoulders. His thumbs dig into my tense muscles and rub slow circles, causing me to let out a small sigh. "Just thought you'd be a bit worn out is all." I can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

"Watch yourself, Captain Mitchell." I tease. "Need I remind you we're both technically at work."

"Ouch. We're back to the ranks again?" He bends down next to my ear, his warm breath fanning the side of my face. "Besides, you and I have done more inappropriate things on this base. Graduation for Top Gun Class of 1987 ring a bell?" My face flushes at the memory. Maverick and Ice had both been invited to make speeches for the graduating class a year behind our own. Both men were only stateside for the day and were scheduled to be shipped back to their respective squadrons early the next morning. Not wanting to miss an opportunity to spend time together, I accompanied Mav to the event as his plus one. Let's just say that a few too many cocktails were consumed at the following reception and poor choices involving a broom closet were made.

Thankfully, before I can respond, another rap on my doorframe turns our focus across the room. Seeing as Cyclone strides into the room without waiting for an invitation, I guess the knock was less of a request to enter and more so a warning he was coming. His eyes examine the scene in front of him. Between Pete's hands on my shoulders, my noticeably red face, and the close proximity the two of us have to each other, I'm sure he has quite a few thoughts running through his head. "Am I interrupting something?"

"No, sir." I quickly shake my partner off, his groans of displeasure not doing anything to help hide the situation in which we've both found ourselves. Mav leans up against the wall behind me, arms crossed against his chest, suddenly looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. Cyclone and him haven't seen eye to eye from the start of this mission and I doubt that's improved at all after the "training" yesterday. I straighten up in my seat, motioning for my superior to sit down across from me. "How can we help you this morning, sir?"

Beau Simpson is the military man recruits have nightmares about in bootcamp. He's a stone wall, putting any emotions he may have about certain aspects of an assignment aside and doing what it takes to get it done. In fact, I don't know if I've ever seen him smile. So, when I notice the subtle look of worry in his eyes, I feel my stomach sink.