Love...Devotion... Let me show you why they play quite a part in this show...
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Nearing Teardrop Pool; Oregon 0834 hours
The two jets screamed across the sky, a MiG and a F/A-18 Hornet.
"Where are they going?" A young man, adjusting his glasses asked, leaning towards the pilot's shoulder from the rear seat.
"Not sure." The pilot responded "It's moving too erratically to be headed to a specific destination."
Strangely enough, the plane in front of him was contacting them...flicking the switch...
"What-"
First there was whispering until it became whimpering "No...No...can't have you steal my spotlight." The other pilot said over the com as the woman fell silent.
The man's eyes widened "That's-" "Sshhh!" The Hornet pilot hissed.
The com was still open.
"You've got a celebrity on board don't ya?" The MiG pilot said, a smirk clear in his voice.
Pilot of the MiG wasn't Russian at all. Sounded American.
The MiG went low...as did the Hornet. Straight under a bridge.
Upon increasing altitude, the MiG's weapons radar activated.
"You wanna fight huh?" The Hornet pilot sneered. He did the same.
If I have too...boy am I gonna hate myself...
The MiG didn't turn and sped off.
You're taunting me...aren't you...?
The Hornet pilot heard the young man in the back muttering. He shook it off and followed the other fighter. The man leaned back over the pilot's shoulder "You're not going to...?" he could see the radar and reticle.
The pilot knew "Not if I can help it."
In the MiG's cockpit was another story.
The young woman was quietly sobbing as the pilot growled.
She was restrained as, in the pilots words 'to keep you from playing with buttons'.
The MiG pulled a large arc and sped towards the Hornet.
They crossed each other and turned again.
Let's Dance..