AN: This was written as a challenge over at my LiveJournal where I asked readers to suggest a fandom and a word or action. The prompts I was given for this were "Airwolf" and "zest".

Disclaimer: Airwolf and co. belong to Mr. Bellasario.


Con Brio

Dominic Santini loved helicopters.

Well, Stringfellow mused, watching his mentor wrench on the Santini Air JetRanger and listening to the snatches of song emitting from the chopper's innards, at least he loved his own--when they were working properly.

Dom also had a habit of lapsing back into Italian when talking to his machines. Right now he was chattering away at the star-spangled bird as if it were a thing alive.

String smiled and shook his head. First Dom coaxed and wheedled and cajoled--and then he would started banging and swearing. So far it had been a good day, and String thought he might know why: Later on that afternoon, they were going to close up the airfield a little early and take the JetRanger out to a certain undisclosed location.

Leaning against the workbench, String wiped his hands absently and turned his thoughts to the sleek, deadly helicopter that patiently awaited them in her cold, silent hideaway. A smile ghosted across his face as he remembered Dom's instant infatuation with the machine he immediately dubbed 'the Lady.' It really had been love at first sight with those two, he thought, his smile widening into a grin.

Sometimes it seemed that Airwolf was as fond of Dom as he was of her. She responded to String's commands without question (as befit a non-sentient machine, he thought) but when Dom took the cyclic, there was a special something extra about Airwolf's performance that String just couldn't pin down.

Thinking about it too much gave String the creeps, so he shook it off and straightened from where he had been lounging. He walked over to the JetRanger and rapped on the fuselage.

"Hey, Dom."

"Yeah?" came the muffled call from the inside of the chopper.

"You 'bout done in there?"

"Hold on a minute." Dom backed himself out of the JetRanger and turned a grease-streaked visage on his foster son. "Yeah, I've had about all I can stand with this buzzard for one day." He wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of his arm, leaving behind another grimy streak. "The UPS guy didn't come today, did he?"

String shook his head. "Nope, sorry."

"Hell." Dom tossed the wrench in his hand into the toolbox at his feet. "That means that those parts I ordered won't be here till Thursday, and we've got a shoot on Friday. Mamma mia, what a way to run a railroad."

"Or an air service," String said cheekily, getting a glare from Dom in return.

"You're real funny, String."

"Just trying to lighten the mood, Dom." He clapped a hand on Dom's shoulder. "Don't take it so hard."

Dom barked out a laugh. "Ha! You try telling that to Caitlin when she's beating down my door, demanding to know why her paycheck bounced."

"Oh, come on, Dom," said String. "Since when has that ever happened?"

"Well, there WAS that time back in '73--"

String rolled his eyes. "That was during the oil crisis, Dom. Everybody almost went out of business back then." He smirked. "Besides, it all worked out for the best. I was over in 'Nam, and you only had one employee."

Dom flashed his gap-toothed grin. "Yeah--me!" He laughed. "Hey, lemme get out of this grease-monkey getup and we'll get some chow before we head out."

"Yeah," String agreed with a smirk. "Can't keep your ladyfriend waiting."

The sun was sinking slowly in the West as they powered down the JetRanger and walked into the depths of the cavern where Airwolf lay slumbering. Dom was positively beaming at the sight of the beautiful helicopter sitting amidst a ring of spotlights.

"Hello, bellisima," he said warmly, patting Airwolf's nose with a gentle hand.

After changing into his flight suit, String swung up into the cockpit and tapped the start button. Airwolf came to life with a myriad of buzzers, bells and lights, and the whine of her twin turbines began to fill the cavern.

Dom, also clad in a steel-grey flight suit adorned with Airwolf's signature 'wolf-in-sheep's-clothing' insignia, climbed aboard and settled into his position at the engineer's console. "Oh, she's missed us, String," he said, a note of wonder in his voice. "Can you feel it? She's pullin' at the bit and rarin' to go."

String closed his eyes briefly, feeling the vibrations of the machine around them. Was there something there, he wondered, something that Dom could feel and he could not?

"I guess so," said String finally, with a shrug. "Are we ready?"

"All systems green, String. Take 'er up."

"Wait a minute, Dom." String twisted slightly in his seat. "Why don't you sit in the hot seat today?"

Dom smiled and shook his head. "No thanks. You go ahead. I know where I'm needed."

The helmet hid String's smile. "Then let's go."

With a slight shudder and sway, Airwolf lifted from the ground and rose from the mouth of the funnel.

"Turbos," called String.

"Turbos," Dom confirmed. Away they rocketed into the sky, Dom whooping with delight all the way.

--End--