Chapter 3

Sydney waits for her father in the hangar, her eyes languidly following his Super Hornet as it takes a dive before pulling a sharp climb to surprise two unsuspecting jets. She purses her lips and smiles slightly as the other two F/A-18s turn to head back to base, presumably after being hit.

Sydney has witnessed enough of her father's flying to know which plane is his when he's in the cockpit. She rolls her eyes with a sigh watching him do a series of rolls over the dark blue waters of the Pacific Ocean. She hasn't seen her father in two years. And yet, not much has changed.

"Oh," she hears a voice from behind. "It's you."

Sydney turns her head and, upon seeing Rooster, she lets out a chuckle. "So, you're a pilot," she says, sounding almost disappointed.

He stops walking a few feet away from her, looking out at the field with his arms crossed. "Did you think Rooster was my given name?"

She shrugs. "A girl could dream."

Rooster raises his eyebrows and smirks at her. "Are you dreaming about me already?"

She laughs. "Yes but, in my dreams, we're nowhere near North Island and you bear no resemblance to my father." She eyes his green flight suit with a slight grimace.

He grins. "Damn, that last part was supposed to be my line."

Sydney struggles to suppress her smile. "Don't worry," she says. "I'm nothing like him."

Rooster nods. "In that case," he says, "I won't hold the fact that you're related to him against you."

She lets out a bitter chuckle. "I don't know," she muses. "I'd run for the hills, if I were you."

Rooster looks over at her and his grin widens. "I don't run," he says, walking out backwards onto the tarmac, still facing her. "I fly."

Sydney laughs, shaking her head, as he slides his aviators over his eyes and heads for the string of fighter jets parked along the flight line.

...

"How's your mother?" Maverick asks, nodding at the server who's just brought two menus to the table.

Sydney glances at him stoically. "Can we not do this, please?" she says.

"Do what? I'm not doing anything," Maverick replies.

"You want to know how she's doing? Call her and ask."

Maverick sighs. "So," he says. "You're angry."

Sydney scoffs. "Anger would imply that I care."

Maverick leans his head onto his fist, eyeing her skeptically. "What do you want me to say, Syd?"

"Do you have to say anything?" she asks, taking a sip of water. "Look, I just need a place to crash for the next few weeks."

"You can stay as long as you want – you know that," he says.

Sydney rolls her eyes. "Right, assuming you're not going anywhere."

Maverick presses his lips together. "Even if I go somewhere, you can stay," he says.

Before Sydney could determine whether or not to thank him, a party of officers enters the bar and, upon seeing Maverick, the throng heads right in the direction of their table.

"Captain!" a man hollers at the top of his lungs as he approaches Maverick. His eyes slide to look at Sydney and he raises his eyebrows at her. "Captain's... really good-looking dinner date." The man pulls up a chair, grinning at Sydney.

Behind him, Sydney could see Rooster's expression sour at the man's behavior.

"I'm Jake," he says with a wide, charismatic grin, and holds out his hand to her.

"Seresin, not now," Maverick warns.

"But you can call me Hangman," he continues, winking at Sydney.

"Why would I call you Hangman?" Sydney says, making a face.

Rooster gives her an amused look before lowering himself into another chair, taken from an adjacent table.

"Because it's my callsign, pretty lady." Hangman smirks.

"Seresin," Maverick says loudly, and all the officers now at the table – except for Rooster, who is still watching Sydney – turn to look at him. "Meet my daughter, Sydney."

"Shit," Hangman mutters, rubbing his chin.

Sydney gives Hangman a tight smile and turns to look at Rooster. "How was your hop?" she asks.

Rooster cringes and Hangman laughs. "Let's just say, he got a good workout," Hangman says.

"They all did," Maverick comments and Rooster's jaw visibly tightens.

Sydney raises her eyebrows as Hangman starts flexing his biceps. The woman standing behind him rolls her eyes and takes a seat at their now extremely crowded table.

"Wait," Hangman says. "How do you know Rooster?" he asks.

Sydney glances at Rooster with a mischievous grin. "Oh, Rooster and I go way back," she says.

Rooster smiles slightly. "That's actually not false," he says, his gaze shifting to Maverick.

"Hi." The woman to Hangman's left reaches across the table to offer her hand. "I'm Natasha. You can call me Phoenix."

Sydney smiles at Natasha and shakes her hand. "Callsign?" Sydney smiles resignedly.

"Stage name," Hangman responds, winking at Natasha with a smirk.

Natasha scoffs at him. "This is Bob," she continues, pointing to the only man in their group who is still standing – the rest have all shamelessly usurped chairs from surrounding tables and squeezed in to join Sydney and Maverick at theirs.

Bob holds out his hand. "You can call me Bob," he says.

Sydney pulls in her lips to keep from laughing. "You are a breath of fresh air, Bob."

Bob returns her grin sheepishly.

Maverick leans back in his seat with a sigh, signaling the server. "I think we're going to need more menus," he says.

...

After dinner, Maverick rises from his seat. He pulls a key from his keyring and hands it to Sydney. "See you later," he says, his eyes lingering first on Hangman and then on Rooster. "Behave, boys," he cautions.

"We'll get her home, don't worry, Captain," Hangman says, dropping his arm over Sydney's shoulders.

Sydney shrugs his arm off, saying, "I'll get myself home."

Rooster draws his lips into a tight grin, glancing at Sydney fondly.

Maverick smirks, shaking his head. "Man, this brings back memories," he says with amusement.

Sydney cocks an eyebrow at him.

After Maverick leaves, Hangman hops up and strides over to the jukebox.

"Here we go," Natasha says wryly. "Watch out for this guy," she says to Sydney.

Sydney purses her lips. "I watch out for everybody." Her gaze slips to catch Rooster watching her carefully. He looks away the moment their eyes meet.

When the music starts, Hangman returns and offers Sydney his hand. "Do you dance?" he asks, smiling.

Sydney bites down on her bottom lip, her eyes searching for Rooster's face in the background, but he's not looking at her anymore. She lets out a reluctant sigh and places her hand in Hangman's.

His grin widens and he pulls her out of her seat effortlessly, putting his other hand on her waist and bringing her closer as they move away from the table.

Dancing with Hangman is nothing like dancing with Rooster. Jake clutches Sydney's hips with both hands, the pressure of his fingers consistent with the hungry look in his eye. He brings his face closer to hers and holds her body against his, his enticing smirk hovering over her lips tantalizingly.

Sydney brings her hands behind his neck, her nails gently grazing his skin. He chuckles, lowering his face so that his nose brushes over her cheek, and says, "We should get out of here."

Sydney laughs quietly. "You're the one who asked me to dance. We can't leave until the song is over."

"That's a dumb rule," Jake replies, his tongue skimming the tip of her ear.

All of the sudden, the song cuts out and Sydney looks up, pulling herself out of his grasp. Jake groans. "Bradshaw, I'm going to kill you," he growls.

Sydney looks at Hangman sharply. "Did you say Bradshaw?"

Hangman narrows his eyes. "Yeah, why?"

And then she hears the piano.

...

A/N: I hope you guys are enjoying the story! Looks like we might have a love triangle on our hands.. sorry, I just can't help myself. It's one of my fave tropes XD