North Pole
"Okay, Harm, my stomach's growling. What do you say we trap this time?"
"Mace, you just want to get home in time for some of those Christmas cookies."
"Damn right I do," Mace retorted. "Before those other squids eat them all."
Harm rolled his eyes. His RIO's thought process always seemed to involve his stomach.
But even Harm had to admit that he was glad to be headed home on Christmas Eve. With expert precision, his hands flew over the controls in the cockpit, bringing the Tomcat in line with the carrier deck.
"Tomcat 173, you're at a mile and a quarter. Call the ball."
"173 Tomcat. Ball, three point five."
"Roger, ball."
As Harm guided the Tomcat home, catching the three wire and smoothly landing thousands of pounds of steel onto a strip of carrier deck, Mace let out a whoop.
"Damn, Hammer, that was a fine piece of flying right there. I wouldn't be surprised if the North Pole calls and asks you to fly the sleigh and eight tiny reindeer tonight."
Mace slapped a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Come on, what do you say we go check out those Christmas cookies?"
"What if there aren't any left?" Harm asked.
"Well, then someone's gonna have to answer to the wrath of my stomach."
Harm grinned. "Maybe if you're a good boy, Santa will bring some more tonight."
"Only if you land his sleigh on the carrier deck."
As the two men headed below deck, ribbing each other all the way, the bright Christmas Eve sun just barely started its slow descent below the horizon.
It was unknown to both Harm and Mace that landing Santa's sleigh would have actually been a night trap that could have sealed both of their fates.
~*~o~*~
"Harm?"
Harm was shaken out of his dream by an urgent hand on his shoulder. He found himself stretched out on the couch, looking up with bleary eyes as Mac's image slowly came into focus.
"Hey," Mac said with a soft laugh. "Where were you? The North Pole?"
Harm groaned and ran a hand over his face. "Something like that."
"Well, come on, sailor. We'll be late for the Festival of Lights."