Sorry for the long, long wait, but right now both the life of my beta and mine is pretty busy. But to make it up to you I'm posting this chapter in whole instead of two parts as I planned.
-Somehow Familiar-
When I become aware of my surroundings I feel warm skin beneath my fingers. I can feel her breathe. I will not open my eyes I want to exploit this dream as I can. I've had this dream quite often since the night I got to spend with Sarah in my arms. It is always the same. She is just lying there next to me. But never before has it felt so real, felt her skin so smooth. I cannot help but begin to draw circles on her stomach, my finger touching her skin only so softly. With the time passing the circles get bigger and cover more of her skin. I can feel her rips already.
The alarm makes me jump in surprise. I am practically sitting upright in bed. A soft moan makes me look to my right. And what I find gives me the second shock this morning. Mac lies next to me, struggling to wake up. Quickly I try to recall where exactly I had my hand before the alarm woke me. What if it has been for real? If it wasn't a dream for once? Had she realized?
Mac has now opened her eyes and smiles at me. How does she manage to look that beautiful this early?
"Was that you jerking my head up so rudely?" She must have rested on my arm when I so rapidly pulled free when the alarm went off.
"I'm sorry. So how did you sleep?"
"Just perfect," she sits up, her shoulder brushing slightly against mine. Immediately the feeling of her skin against my fingers shoots back into my mind.
I lift my legs out of the bed and begin to stand up. "How did I end up here," I ask once I realize it actually is Mac's room we are in.
"You fell asleep last night and I was too lazy to carry you into your own bed."
I grin when a picture of Sarah MacKenzie throwing me over her shoulder and carrying me into the other room comes to life in my head. There is something else bothering me about the situation though. How did she end up in the same bed? But I can't work up the guts to ask, fearing what might be the answer, though I'm not sure why.
She still sits on the bed, her legs pulled up to her chest so her chin rests on her knees. Her arms are wrapped around her. She looks as if she's really comfortable right now. If Mac is comfortable, then why aren't I? I know I was comfy ten minutes ago with her resting in my arms. But somehow the alarm set free second thoughts, second thoughts that aren't soothing at all.
Clearing my throat I start to turn around. "We better get changed."
I hurry my steps slightly to flee the discomfited situation without looking like I do.
After having showered and getting ready I am about to slip into my shoes when Mac starts to tell me "I had a weird dream last night, you know. I was lying at the beach when all of a sudden the wind began drawing circles on my stomach."
Oh my god! So she did actually feel it. My dream wasn't a dream at all. "Have you deciphered it yet?" I ask trying to mask the emotions now running wild. Did she like it? Did I do something wrong? Was it too fast? Would she have wanted me to go on?
"It could mean that I am going in circles and should stop doing so."
"But you did like the feeling of it, didn't you?" I simply have to know. A huge smile appears on my lips once I hear her "yes".
"It probably is something good then. Doing the wrong thing wouldn't feel right, now would it? Are you decent?"
"Sure, come on over. Yeah maybe you are right. Though what does it mean?"
I find her sitting on her bed and walk over to her. "Maybe it was simply something to please you with. No meaning at all." Now my smile is directed at her as I reach for her hand to pull her into a standing position.
"Maybe it was." Did I just see her eyes glistening a little? I am not entirely sure but I sure wish it was there.
-J-A-G-
-J-A-G-
I dropped Harm at the administration building for a pre-court meeting with Maverick while I drove further onto the base to meet with Admiral Metcalf. I still need to talk to him before he appears in court later today. The offices for NSAWC are located right next to the hangars and the airfield. So when I open the door of my car I hear the roaring engine of a starting jet. I'm aware that I would probably hear it near the gate as well but here the noise is emphasized by a noticeable vibration in the air. I can feel it in my ears and my stomach. Seeking the relative calm of the house I hurry across the parking lot and head into the building.
A small group of pilots passes me by on my way in and immediately my thoughts jump back to this morning.
Maybe it was simply something to please you with. His words and the smile accompanying them still linger in my mind. Instinctively my hand comes to rest on my stomach just above the band of my trousers, the very place his warm fingers have drawn steady patterns on my skin. And yes, this soft touch was something I took pleasure from.
I had been awake for a while already before the alarm ended the little episode rather abruptly. I woke to his first movements. They made my skin tickle and goose bumps appeared on my arms. For a second I was lost as to what caused the sensations before I remembering just where I spent the night. Keeping my eyes closed I concentrated on his fingers and their constant path. It cost all my will power not to moan my pleasure. The gesture was so tiny and yet it caused a turmoil of emotions. I wanted to turn around and face him, kiss him, just do to him what he was doing to me. But I did not for fear that he would end it if he realized I was awake. That he was only safe doing this when I was 'asleep', so I remained asleep. When Harm's fingers first crossed my ribcage a moment later I couldn't help but stir a little. And for a second we lost contact. With all my might I controlled my body to lie still when every part of it screamed for the return of his touch. I waited for endless moments before his fingers resumed their place on my skin once again sending shivers through my whole body. Slowly the range of the circles got wider with every new one.
That was when the alarm broke the charm. In the blink of an eye his fingers were once again gone and so was the arm I was resting on. The shrill ring brought us back to a reality where we are still far from a place offering that much ease and comfort. It clearly showed in his eyes, the shyness, the confusion, the nervousness. It was reflected in the hurry with which he disconnected from our touch and got out of the bed. And yet, hidden under all that I found something else. A joy, a laughter I hadn't seen in weeks. He seemed to be happy.
When he returned to his room I remained sitting on the bed my eyes closed, reveling in the moment. The way I was lying in his arms, his hand comfortably resting on my naked skin felt so natural to me. I wonder how far he would have gone. How far would I have let him? For a few wonderful minutes there we were close. Things were uncomplicated and we opened up. He let me in and I let him near. It was so easy, why isn't it now? Why did it all change once the day had begun? Why is everything between us a struggle? Why is there always a down before there is an up? Like the fight over Maverick we had before the night. Like yesterday morning when he had his door locked. I still haven't asked him why. There is always something causing us to second-guess the other's intentions, to let us doubt our way. Why do we always tend to confuse or hurt the other, when at the next moment we are capable of the totally reverse actions? We've been like that for years. These last two mornings have contrasted in their differences, and yet reflect most of our relationship. Couldn't there just be some ups, if only for a while? I know that there can't always be good times, but Harm and I have had our share of bad ones, didn't we?
Finally breaking out of my reverie I check the numbers on the doors. Shit. I've missed the Admiral's office. So I turn back and hurry down the corridor to find the right door.
Knocking I wait for the order to enter before I open the door.
"Colonel, have a seat."
"Thank you for allowing me some of your time, sir," I say, settling down in the chair in front of his desk.
"It's alright. So what do you want to know?"
"As a defense witness you're a reputation witness for Captain Mitchell, so I'd like to hear what you can tell me about him."
"Mitchell is one hell of a pilot. I've seen few who are better up there." The Admiral leans back in his chair, his hands pressed together at the fingertips forming a triangle in front of his chest. I'm sure he is about to get lost in memories.
"Admiral, I know that. What I don't know is his character."
He doesn't change his position but his eyes focus back on me. "When he was younger he was a hot shot." Aren't they all? I guess you have to be slightly out of your mind when you dream of flying a super sonic jet. "Nothing was fast enough for him, nothing high enough. He was taking the maximum risk up there. He needed to prove that he belonged there."
"So he's always flown at the limit. And whoever isn't up to that doesn't belong up there. Is that how he thinks things should be?"
"Colonel, flying a super sonic jet means you're walking the razor's edge. You just have to know how to keep the balance. You have to know your own limits and those of your jet. A pilot can't survive up there if he isn't aware of that. All our instructors teach that to the pilots."
"To what lengths would the Captain go to prove that somebody isn't aware of those limits?"
"You mean if I think he would cut that hose?"
"For example." I know from his glance what Metcalf is going to tell me next.
"No he wouldn't. I've known this man for twenty years and I know he wouldn't."
"But you said that he took risks up there. Maximum risks. Is he trying to force the pilots to take the same risks?"
"I said he took. Maverick settled down, he's grown. He no longer needs to prove something and he's making it clear to his students that they don't either. He learned it the hard way what it means to take too many risks."
Even though I know the Admiral most probably wouldn't answer me I still ask, "What happened?"
"That's not for me to tell."
So all I have learned is that it isn't likely that Maverick was the one to sabotage the Lieutenant's mask. I wouldn't score many points with the judge today.
"Once again thank you for your time, sir." I stand up to come to attention and leave the room.
"Colonel, let me ask you one last thing." I hesitate in my movement and wait for him to continue. "Three days ago you yourself filed a recommendation that there are no evidences, but now you're back suing the Captain. Do you believe he did it?"
"It's not for me to have an opinion about that. I've been ordered to take the prosecution and am obligated to present enough hints to justify an official court martial on the matter."
"I do understand you, Colonel. Still I like to know whether you believe he did it."
A moment I'm pondering my answer before I straighten and say, "No sir, I don't." It is what I truly believe.
"Then I hope you loose." He smiles at me and I'm dismissed from his office.
-T-O-P-
-G-U-N-
We walk the corridor to my office. I'm not sure what made me ask the Commander to come along. He could have waited at the courtroom for the trial to start, or gone somewhere else, but now he is walking alongside me in silence. When we turn around the corner I spot Mac coming out of the office that must be Viper's. She is headed in our direction and we come to meet just outside my door.
"Good morning Mac. I've got a very strong sense of déjà vu."
"Me too. That might be because we met in the exact same way three days ago."
"Yeah and you told me back then just exactly how many minutes I had left."
"I could do so now."
I turn slightly towards Rabb but my eyes never leave her. "Do you know how she does that Commander?"
"In all the years we've known each other I never figured it out. And I doubt she'll ever tell me." Mac starts to relax a little and smiles broadly at us. Guess Rabb knows what he is talking about.
"A woman gotta keep her secrets." I'm sure there are more secrets about Sarah MacKenzie than just the great timing.
"What are you doing here?" Rabb asks after a while.
"I've just interviewed one of your witnesses."
"Now?"
"Hadn't had the chance before. The Admiral is a busy man. And you occupied him all of yesterday morning, sailor." Now that gets my attention. Never before have I heard the Navy's nickname been said with that much warmth and affection.
"Wouldn't want to give you too much of a head start."
"You're afraid, you gonna loose?" Mac answers her voice now holding a playful tone and her body leaned slightly towards the Commander.
My eyes continue to dart back and forth between the two lawyers. They seem to be totally oblivious to my presence and everything else that is surrounding them. These two have definitely got something going on.
A short laugh escapes Rabb's lips before he answers, "This case is mine and you know it MacKenzie." He straightens up as if to make a better expression on her. She just snorts at his behavior. A short and lovely snort that is.
"Good to know you're confident about our case," I finally step in.
Immediately they both snap out of their own world and back into the real one. The one where a stranger- a superior listened in on their conversation. Both their faces gain a little red coloring, hers more than his. Intentionally they both take a step backwards to create more than the necessary distance.
"Sorry sir, we got …" Rabb searches for the right words, his eyes pleading with Mac to help him.
"Absorbed," I supply perfectly sure that this is what just happened. They got absorbed in one another's presence.
He just shrugs his shoulders still embarrassed while Mac is nervously playing with her cover, her eyes fixed on the wall behind my back. A silence settles over our group. I'm sure it is an awkward one on their part but I find the humor in it.
Finally Mac speaks up. "May I join you on your way back?"
"Certainly."
"Just a wait a second and I'm right with you," I say remembering why I came here in the first place. I wanted to check my mail.
I open the door and round it to reach the sideboard where my neatly sorted mail is to be found. I haven't bothered to close the door behind me so I can clearly hear the words that now come drifting into my room. They are whispering but still standing right behind the door – well out of sight, but within earshot – which lets me hear them clearly enough.
"Uhh, that was embarrassing." The Colonel.
"Just imagine if we had been talking about something other than the case," Rabb whispers back.
"Yeah, like this morning and my dream."
"We would have been transferred to god-knows-where within a week."
"All the more so if I told that you were the cause behind it." I can hear Mac starting to giggle. I never thought of her as being a giggly person.
"You… you actually kn… know that it was me?" He stutters. A lawyer that stutters. I wonder what more surprises this morning will hold. Leaning closer to the door I try to catch a glimpse of either of them through the small crack. But I only see part of Rabb's head, his ear and hair mostly. I would love to see his face right now. From the way he spoke I'm sure it's now redder than minutes before, his ear at least is.
"It's okay. As I said, I liked it." Her voice is calm and reassuring. I see the tips of her fingers come to rest next to his ear. I turn slightly to get a better view but I can only guess that she placed her hand on his cheek. They fall silent after that. Waiting for the next words my eyes remain fixed on the crack between the wall and the door. But they don't come and finally she removes her hand.
Shaking my head at the two of them I return to concentrate on my mail at last. Nothing important though. I cough and take my time to walk back around the door, to give the two of them enough time to compose themselves.
"Alright, let's go." I turn the key one finale time and study Rabb and MacKenzie out of the corner of my eye. He seems nervous but has got that goofy grin on his face. She looks more controlled over the matter. I guess that's because she wasn't the one being caught in the act so to speak. Her lips form a happy smile that I see is directed at the Commander. I'd love to know what exactly there is between them, even though I can already make an educated guess.
We proceed in silence, Rabb on my left side and Mac on my right.
"Mac?" She left my side as we crossed the entrance hall and stopped to look at something taped to the wall.
Both the Commander and I walk back to join her. Immediately my eyes come to rest on the board that holds all former winners of the 'TopGun'-trophy. Every now and then I can't help but to stop on my way in or out to read through all the names.
"Maverick, do you think the Lieutenant will make it up here?"
"You better not answer this Captain," Rabb advises me.
"Oh come on Harm." And just as she is half way through her sentence I start to answer her question. Why shouldn't I?
"She might. There are still six weeks to the course."
For a moment Mac continues reading through the numerous golden plagues mounted to the blue board. "I don't see your name here, Mav."
"That's because I didn't win. They did." I point out the plaque reading the year 1986 and the names of Tom 'Iceman' Kazanski and Ron 'Slider' Kerner. How often had I pictured Goose's and my name next to this year?
I recall the day Goose told everybody that there were two o's in his name. We were that sure we would be the ones to win that it never even occurred to us that we mightn't. I also remember the day Ice and Slider finally got the plaque at our graduation party. I thought for hours beforehand if I should go there and finish with everybody else. Things just didn't feel right without Goose by my side. It took a lot of strength of mind to go. I was sitting in my room in my dress whites, all ready to go but kept starring at a picture of the two of us, searching in my head what I could have done differently. What finally made me go were Carole's words: "He'd flown anyway without you. He'd have hated it but he would have done it." It was our job. She knew it, I knew it. We were aware that something like this could happen, yet still when it happened to me it brought my world crashing down.
"I guessed that since you're here now you –"
"Something happened that let me doubt my abilities." I keep staring at the names of my comrades, pictures of the incident replaying in my head. I've never been able to stop them.
"You crashed." It's no question. I turn to look at the man beside me. I know this look, know the feelings behind it. He does understand it. Only a pilot having experienced the same would truly understand. And I see this complete understanding in his eyes now. Eyes that are clouded over lightly.
It is Mac who breaks the uneasy silence. "Court's in fifteen minutes," she softly tells us, her gaze resting on me first before it shifts to Rabb. It holds another form of understanding. She might not know how it feels but she at least knows how we suffer. And there is a pain in her eyes that I can't quite place. I can't say that it results from her knowledge of either myself or Rabb having experienced this or whether from a much closer encounter with the matter herself. Just another story worthy to learn about Sarah MacKenzie.
-J-A-G-
-J-A-G-
The moment I open the door of the court room memories of my earlier life fade and I concentrate back on what I am now. A lawyer. A good lawyer that's about to argue a case. A case I intend to win.
Looking beside me I'm not so sure Mitchell is capable of doing the same thing he still seems lost in his painful past. Then again he has no other life. He is still a pilot. He's still facing the same risk each day.
The ride back here from the NSAWC building was completed in silence. I opted to join the Captain instead of Mac. So the both of us hung onto our own thoughts. Mine diverting between the rising flames of the fire of my ramp strike and the waves of the freezing waters of the Atlantic Ocean. It's odd seeing the brilliant orange mingle into the dull blue-grey and back again. I wonder if Mitchell still sees it happen like I do. I see every moment, every second and doubt that I'll ever going to forget these.
Once we sit down at our table Mac comes strolling over. She beat us driving here. Now she casually leans forward, her hands on the table so her head is close to mine, which means she doesn't need to raise her voice much.
"Are you okay?" she asks, her concern clearly audible in her voice.
"I am. Not sure about the Captain though."
"I'm alright," Mitchell answers his voice still somewhat distant.
The bailiff chooses this moment to call for attention and Mac returns to her own table giving both me and Mitchell a last once-over as if to make sure we've told her the truth.
"All rise."
During the minute it takes the judge to enter the room and proceed to his chair I turn my head to look at Mac. She does the same. I search for her eyes across the aisle and in one of our silent conversations that is for nobody to understand but us, I thank her for her caring. It feels good to have somebody caring for you and to admit that you actually need it at times. We only draw our eyes away when the judge is seated and we may as well.
"Since the prosecution closed her argument yesterday, is the defense ready to call their first witness?"
I rise again before I answer, "We are your honor." I watch the Marine guard open the door for our first witness.
The called Lieutenant quickly nods at Mitchell when he passes us by on his way to the stand. The moment he arrives at the bench Mac rises to swear him in.
"State your name, rank and current station for the record please."
"Lieutenant Barney Sammer, NAS Fallon, Nevada."
I remain standing at my place while I wait for Mac to finish her task. Once she settles back down I step up to resume her position in front of the witness stand.
"Lieutenant, right now you are a participant of the Top Gun classes of NSAWC?"
"Yes I am sir."
"And as part of that Captain Mitchell is your CO?"
"Yes."
"Did you ever have social contact with the Captain besides your training?" I slowly cross the open space back to the defense table.
"Other than the beer we had our first night here? No."
"Who are 'we'?"
"Ah, the whole group of pilots and all of the instructors. I think they wanted us to acclimate. Get to know each other." Sammer leans back in his chair, his cover resting untouched on his thigh, his hands casually placed on the armrests. He doesn't seem to have a problem being at the stand. He radiated an aura of confidence. If he was like that in the cockpit he must be one hell of a pilot.
"Where was that meeting?"
"At the O-Club, sir."
I walk back to stand right next to Sammer. "Was Lieutenant Reese with you that night?"
"Yeah, everybody was there," he answers now forced to look up at me.
"How did the Lieutenant acclimate?"
"Objection," I hear Mac's voice to my left and turn slightly to face her. "Witness can't know how Lieutenant Reese felt that night."
"I rephrase. Did the Lieutenant seem to enjoy herself?" I watch her sit down before I once again turn my concentration back to my witness by the end of the sentence.
"Certainly. She was telling jokes and such. I'd say she was having a lot of fun."
"Was the Captain," I swiftly motion for Mitchell, "treating her any different?"
"That night sir?"
"That night and during the training."
"That night he certainly didn't. Nobody did. And as for the training, that's hard to say. The Captain treats all of us differently. He never makes the same move twice." A huge smile appears on Sammer's face that is directed straight at the Captain. Guess Mitchell found just another admirer.
Quickly changing the subject so Mac wouldn't see too much of this admiration and use it for her purpose I ask about Lieutenant Reese. "How is the Lieutenant doing up there during your training?"
"Objection. He is no instructor. The Lieutenant isn't qualified to judge her."
This time I don't turn for her but simply explain to the judge. "The earned points are common knowledge in the whole group. So Lieutenant Sammer is able to tell how good the Lieutenant is."
"Overruled."
"I guess she's doing fine," Sammer continues once the judge tells him so. "There are some of us who have fewer points." He nonchalantly shrugs his shoulders to show it is no big deal.
"Do you feel like Lieutenant Reese is favored by the instructors?"
"I don't think so. She's complaining as much as we do."
"Thank you Lieutenant. Your Honor, I've no further questions." I walk back to my chair finally sitting down while Mac stands up again. She waits for me to fully pass her before she starts to speak though.
"Lieutenant, did Lieutenant Reese ever confirm that she hadn't any social contact with Captain Mitchell?"
"No ma'am she didn't."
"So there might have been meetings between the two. And you wouldn't know what happened there Lieutenant, would you?"
"No ma'am I wouldn't." Sammer casts a quick glance in our direction. It looked like he was getting uneasy facing Mac. I admit she can do that – make a man feel perturbed.
"You talked about the points Lieutenant Reese got. Do you have fewer points than her?"
"Objection. Relevance?" I throw in knowing pretty well where Mac wants to go with this question.
"I'd like to see. Overruled, the Lieutenant will answer the question."
"Aye, sir. Yes ma'am I do have not as many points as her." I realize that Sammer's voice dropped a little bit in volume, as if he feared to make a fool of himself.
"Lieutenant, do you admire the Captain?" So much for Mac not seeing the glance Sammer cast his CO.
"Ma'am?" He looks at her, lost at to what she wants to know and why. By now he started to play with the cover on his thigh and is no longer leaning back in his chair but forward instead.
"Do you admire the Captain's skills as a pilot?"
Sammer sighs audibly realizing that Mac didn't set him a trap. At least not a trap he would be aware of. But he'll soon be. I know what's to come.
"Yes I do. We can learn much from him."
"So with you admiring the Captain and having fewer points than Lieutenant Reese, wouldn't you be glad to help the Captain out of a difficult situation?"
"Objection. Lieutenant Sammer is not on trial here and the prosecution doesn't have any evidence supporting this."
"Sustained. Colonel, do you have any evidence for this accusation?"
"No sir. I don't have any more questions." Mac slowly walks back to her place, her head held high as if she'd just won her case. I know she at least had to try. I would have tried if I were at her place.
"The defense calls Rear Admiral Mike Metcalf."
I once again watch Mac swear the witness in before I begin. The Admiral's interview is pretty straight forward. I question him about how long he'd known the Captain; if he had ever seen him doing anything of what he was accused of now. Just the usual stuff you ask a reputation witness.
Mac for her part, asked about the way Mitchell had been, about the risks he took. Simply anything that might allow him to be a shadier figure than the one the Admiral had painting throughout my cross-examination.
When Mac finishes the judge speaks up. "It is almost noon. The court will be in recess until 1400."
"Sir, the defense rests. We won't call anymore witnesses." I could call more of the participants of the course but they won't reveal anything more than Lieutenant Sammer and I don't need the judge to hear that neither of them knew about the manner in which Captain Mitchell treated Lieutenant Reese.
"Alright. Then this court is adjourned until Monday morning 0900 hours. Court will read the verdict then."
"All rise," the bailiff calls once again and a shifting of chairs and feet accompanies the judge back into his room.
I gather all my papers and head after Mitchell, following him out of the room. Mac is already gone when we leave the court room. She is nowhere to be seen. I wonder where she went.
I turn to Mitchell to wish him a nice weekend before I go in search of Mac, when Sammer approaches us.
"Sirs."
"You were good up there, Lieutenant." At least he was until Mac started grilling him. But he did fairly well nonetheless.
"Thank you, sir. You will get the Captain cleared, won't you?"
"I'm positive about our chances."
"The Colonel did some good work today," Mitchell intervenes. Just when did he get that pessimistic about his case?
"So did we Captain."
"The Colonel's been giving you a hard time, sir."
"Actually she's been giving you a hard time, Lieutenant. It was you she was after. But she wouldn't be the excellent lawyer that she is, if she hadn't."
"No, sir." I can tell from his voice that he didn't believe my characterization of Mac's legal skills to be true. Some people just can't be helped.
A short period of silence settles over our little group. Just when I am about to dismiss the Lieutenant, Mac joins us from wherever she's been.
"Lieutenant," she greets friendly, her tone totally different from what Sammer faced in court.
"Ma'am. Permission to leave?" Suddenly he seems to be eager to leave.
"Permission granted." As highest in rank Mitchell dismisses him and we are left alone.
"What are we going to do with the rest of our day?" Mac's eyes are sparkling. She's ready to let the job be and get into a more relaxed mood. She doesn't even bother that the Captain is still standing next to us.
"Actually I need to look something up first." I see her shoulders drop an inch and the smile on her face shrinking a bit. I hate doing that to her but I had already made up my mind this morning about what I was going to do now. And I need to do it today. There is no way to get it done tomorrow.
"Alright."
"May I give you a lift Colonel? That way Rabb can keep your car." In a rapid motion my eyes divert from Mac to Mitchell. I'd better think about my task being that important. But before I can make up my mind Mac answers, "I'd appreciate that."
"But –" I start before Mac stops me with a glance that clearly tells, "How dare you. You were the one to turn me down."
"Alright. I wish you a nice weekend then Captain."
"Same to you," he returns when he starts to walk away from me.
Mac lingers for a moment longer. Finally she says, "See you when you're back." This time her eyes tell me a total different story from just seconds before. This time I find a reassurance in them that manages to suppress part of my fears. I remember her words from my jealousy attack – besides, I wouldn't let him – when I keep staring after the two of them. I will my heart to trust her like my mind does.
-T-O-P-
-G-U-N-
Silence. Total silence.
Neither I nor Maverick have said a word yet. I've not yet looked at him since we entered the car. My arm is propped up against the window, my head leaning onto my hand. I can feel the coolness of the glass against my temple although there is no physical contact. I keep staring at the scenery outside the base. The green and brown mingle in front of my eyes. The landscape is swimming by. My body vibrates along with the car, reflecting every bump of the road. I can hear my pulse beat intertwined with the roaring sound of the wheels on the bitumen.
It's an eerie silence.
I cast a secretive sidelong glance at the man next to me. He is concentrated on the street. A street that is almost deserted and running straight ahead. His hands are firmly placed in the top position of the steering wheel keeping a steady course.
I don't know what makes Maverick keep the silence up, but I damn well know what caused mine.
The way Harm looked at me just before I turned to head after the Captain. It was the same glance he gave me when I walked out of his door more than a year back to head off into Paraguay. I'm never going to forget that look. That look of despair and anxiety mixed with what I now would call love and caring. He just gave me that glance again. And here, I fear to talk to Maverick because of the memory of a past I thought fading.
I close my eyes to escape from the blurry vision of the outside world and the silence within the car when suddenly Maverick breaks our silence.
"Have you ever wondered why the two of us got along that well and that fast, Mac?"
I slowly open my eyes and turn my head to face him. When my eyes meet his he holds them for a moment before his turn on the road again. Staring at his profile I ask myself how I should answer. The last time I tried to explain our connection it didn't work out all that well. However, I don't want to lie to him either.
So bracing myself against his reaction I finally answer, "I don't know about you, but on my part it was probably because of Commander Rabb."
I push away from the window to regain a straight position in my seat, my every muscle stressed, anticipating his next words.
"Why is that? Did you want to prove something to him?" I've expected a variety of replies. That he might be embarrassed or hurt like Harm was, or that he would simply make fun of me – that he was nothing like Harm. However, his question is none of those yet still it reflects the answer to his first question, why we got along so fast. It feels like he could see right into my confused mind as if he'd known me for years and not days.
Did I want to prove something to Harm? Did I use Maverick to show Harm that I can find other friends? That there are others like him if he leaves me? No, there is no one else like Harm. I tried it before but returned to him in the end, always. There is no way to replace Harm in my life or my heart, I know that. And I never before thought that was the reason why I feel about Mav the way I do. It simply happened.
"No. It's just that you and Harm seem to have some things in common."
"I don't see that." For a moment his eyes divert from the street back onto mine. They plainly show the incredibility of my statement.
"You might not, but I'm sure your wife does. And when you look a little closer you'll find a few things yourself."
He shakes his head still not believing what he just heard. "So you chose me because I'm like the Commander?"
"I didn't choose you Captain. You were the one to occupy the empty seat next to me, not the other way round."
"Alright, I give you that. But still, did we get close because you saw another Rabb in me?" I'm not sure if there is hurt in his voice. I still have to learn to read his moods, he expresses them a totally different way than Harm does. A thing they don't have in common.
"Maybe. Because you are like him and because you aren't."
"Now that confuses me. Care to explain?"
In a swift motion I prop my elbows up on my thighs and drop my head into my hands. Once again closing my eyes I try to think about how I should explain. I still don't know what happened last Monday in the O-Club. And yet he is the third person to ask me about it.
Sitting back up I start to describe what might be the reason. "Harm and I have known each other for a while now. He's my best friend. I trust him. That is why I felt like I could trust you. In the way you just filled that stool you showed a natural caring I've only known from Harm so far. He would have done the same thing. Simply sitting there, expecting nothing in return. And then again, you seemed to be – I don't know how to say this – settled might be the proper word. That made it that much easier for me to trust you, to allow you beyond my walls – at least some of them. There were no struggles with you that let me fear to be pulled into them without the chance of ever surfacing again." I feel exhausted, physically and emotionally.
"Believe me Mac, there are a great many struggles buried in my soul." His voice seems torn, torn from memories I guess, like his eyes when we stood at the trophy board.
His obvious despair makes me look back up and across to him. He is still concentrated on the street, his hands still on the top of the wheel. However his shoulders seemed to have sunken a bit.
"I'm sorry if I brought up bad memories this morning."
"It wasn't your fault, I often think of it when I cross the hall. That's why I sometimes use the back door just to avoid the thoughts."
We keep silent for a while, time for Maverick to cope with the past.
"These aren't the struggles I was talking about though. I know Harm got some of these as well and I do understand. I can deal with that. But there are other things neither he nor me seem to be able to muddle through."
"Is that why you never tried? Why it didn't work out, or whatever?"
"We've never even been involved."
"And you blame him?" Maverick now steers the car into a parking lot outside my hotel.
I wait a moment before I answer, watch him turn the motor off and finally face me.
"I blame him, I blame me. There were always complications."
"Are there any complications now?" His blue eyes seem to invade my soul in search for an answer.
I ponder his question – are there complications? There are no significant others in our lives, no life-threatening situation, neither of us are about to leave. There simply is nothing to keep us from taking the next step. Nothing besides "Us."
Maverick leans closer now, reaching his hand over the middle console. He takes one of my sweaty hands in his. His hand isn't as big as Harm's but still I feel totally wrapped up in his touch. His eyes search mine and lock with them. I can't tear my gaze away from the light blue iris.
"You will overcome this. Just trust in him, trust in yourself, but most of all trust in you as a couple. You two love each other and that's about everything that counts." His soft voice soothes my troubled soul and I'm glad I met such a man. Glad that I have been fortunate enough to count two such men as my friends.
"Thank you Mav," I whisper already leaning in to wrap my arms around him.
After a while we both pull away and settle back into our seats. This time the developing silence is no longer awkward but peaceful.
Mav is the first to break the calm again. "May I ask a personal question?"
"What have we been talking about?" I can't help but laugh a little on that. "Go ahead."
"When Rabb stated my crash I saw his eyes cloud over. I estimate he experienced something alike." With a soft nod I confirm his assumption. "But I found something similar in your eyes. What was it you experienced?"
"The night before my wedding I almost lost somebody I loved to an F-14 crash. I'm never going to forget that feeling. It felt horrible." Imagess of the downpour of rain re-emerge in my mind. The despair and hopelessness is back at full force, just as if Harm crashed all over again.
"Neither will I."
I lower my voice before I speak the next words. "What happened?"
Maverick takes a deep breath, bracing himself against the resurfacing memories for the second time that day. "We were on a training flight when we got into the downwash of another jet. I wasn't able to control the aircraft, we got in a downward spin and had to eject. My RIO hit the canopy roof. He was dead before he hit the water. He was dead when I held him in my arms until SAR arrived. I could do nothing about my best friend's death."
Taking his hand in mine I gently squeeze it. Now it's up to me to give comfort. Comfort by simply being there, when there are no words to take the pain away.
"What happened to your fiancé?" Mav finally picks our conversation back up.
"My fiancé?" I wonder what Mic had to do with all this.
"When he crashed the night before your wedding?"
"Oh. He didn't crash. He was right next to me."
"Oh." Slowly understanding dawns in his eyes. "What happened next?"
"My fiancé called off the wedding and left." It feels easier now to talk about it now that I've finally closed that chapter of my life.
"You don't seem to resent him for leaving."
"Not anymore. I now know he was right."
"So you've overcome obstacles already." I still hold Maverick's hand in mine, so he can easily run his thumb of the back of it.
"But one day there will be too many obstacles, obstacles we don't have the might to overcome anymore."
"You just have to believe in you. Then you'll always find the strength and the path might even clear."
"Let's hope so." I bend forward for a last hug before I finally get out of the car. "See you on Monday."
-J-A-G-
-J-A-G-
I continue to watch their backs until Mac and Mitchell vanish out of sight.
Mac and Maverick, Mac and Mav. It sounds odd, like Mac and Mic. I wonder whether the combination of names is any indication on how well two people fit together. Mac and Mic didn't fit, neither in names nor in character. But Mac and Mav might be just another story. What does the combination of Mac and Harm tell me then? Would people say we fit, or wouldn't they? Mac 'n' Harm, Harm 'n' Mac. It has a certain ring to it. And Sarah Rabb definitely has a beautiful sound. This finally manages to bring a smile on my lips. One day I promise myself. One day the time will come.
Still reveling in the pleasant thought, I hurry towards the flight of stairs and down to the floor below. I still need to accomplish my task. With long strides I cross the corridor to the personnel office. I hope they don't secure too early on Saturdays, so I wouldn't have rejected Mac for nothing.
When I open the door after a short knock I find the office empty except for a young female Ensign whose desk is positioned at the wall to my right.
"Excuse me Ensign. I'm with JAG and am looking for a file on a client." I cross the room and come to stand about two steps away from her desk.
"Yes sir. For whom are you looking?"
"Captain Pete Mitchell. Top Gun instructor."
"And you're his lawyer?" I have to give her that, she isn't easily tricked.
Stepping a little closer I prop my briefcase up on the edge of her desk and lean down a little.
"Here you go," I say handing her the sheet Mitchell signed making me his attorney. Good thing I carry it around with me. Spared me from having to talk her into this.
I watch her green eyes travel the lines of the contract before she turns back to her computer and starts hitting the keyboard.
With a beeping that sounds incredibly loud in the deserted office the printer jumps into action. It spills out page after page. Rushing past me in a swift motion the Ensign crosses the room to get me the file.
"That's it sir."
"Thank you, Ensign," I answer rewarding her with a smile.
She blushes a little. "No problem."
Still standing by her side I start to scan the contents of the file. Soon enough I hit the first passages marked classified. There no longer are whole passages made unreadable with a black bar but a single word stating 'classified'.
"Ensign, this file is classified."
She stands back up and bends her head so she can read the passage I'm pointing to. "It is."
"Do you have the full version?"
She hesitates for a moment, "No."
"But you know where you can find it." My voice dropped a little lower and I cast a full power smile at her, hoping it would do the charm.
"Sir, the declassified file is not available to the public. You're not allowed to read it."
"But I need it to defend my client properly." Hopefully she doesn't know that the hearing is already over, or as good as.
"You think it will help you?" I can see her squirm under my gaze.
"He is unjustly accused." Alright, this isn't a lie but it doesn't explain me needing the file either. However, this does the trick. She is giving in.
"Would you just wait by the printer, while I get it for you?"
"Sure." I hurry to get away from her to show I'm not interested in spying and am a good guy.
A second time the beeping of the printer startles me in the surrounding silence. This time twice as many pages are finally assembled in my hands. A lot of classified information for an instructor.
I cross the room back to the Ensign and my briefcase. Quickly storing the file in it I let it fall shut before she can change her mind.
"Thank you, Ensign," I state again. "You've helped me a lot."
She doesn't answer me verbally but nods instead. She's probably wondering how many laws she just broke.
"Have a nice weekend." Closing the door behind me, I let out a short breath.
-T-O-P-
-G-U-N-
I open the court room door to find a surprised Commander Rabb looking at me. What is he still doing here? His eyes follow me as I walk towards him.
"I left…"
"… your mail," he finishes pointing to a stack of paper on the far corner of the table. "The bailiff handed it to me when I came back. I would have come by."
"Thank you." I walk around the defense table to pick up my mail.
Rabb still hasn't returned to reading, but keeps studying me it feels. His eyes have something that reminds me of a deer caught in the headlights. I wonder what he is reading. I tilt my head to the side trying to read overheads. But it is no good, so finally I ask.
"What are you reading?"
He drops his eyes from me back onto the table at last. They scan part of the papers spread around him, as if to reassure himself. "Hmmm. – Your file."
This is not an answer I expected but it sure would explain the look in his eyes when I entered the room. "Isn't that a bit late? The hearing is almost finished."
He hesitates again. "I got curious about you on what happened this morning." I get the impression there is something more about it.
"You could have asked me, you know." Like Mac did. Like everybody does once they find out. And although it isn't getting easier I'm at least used to answer the common questions.
"So, are you satisfied?"
"I realized we've got some things in common."
"What would that be?" He isn't referring to what Mac explained me about us being 'alike', is he? "Except the fact that we've both ejected once."
That takes him by surprise. "How do you know?"
"Don't tell me you didn't know before you read my file."
"Yeah, I suspected it."
"I could tell from your eyes. And Mac affirmed it on our way back," I explain.
"Alright. But you weren't quite correct. I ejected three times." He holds up three fingers to make sure I understand.
I walk further around the table and drop into my chair next to him. "You did."
"First time was when I hit the deck back in the early nineties. It was due to a sight failure, night blindness they said." For a moment he falls silent, for sure thinking about the incident. I don't bother to press him to go on. He would in his own time, if he wants to.
"The next was in Russia. We were shot at and our MiG went down."
"You've actually flown a MiG?"
"Yeah, pretty cool heh." A slight tone of amusement creeps back into his voice, banishing the dark thoughts into the back for a moment.
"The Russians let you fly it?"
"Actually Mac and I borrowed the jet. We paid for the ride though."
I'm sure my eyes are about to pop out of my head. And here I was thinking my stint with the MiG-29 was cool. "You've stolen a MiG and you even took Mac with you?"
"Hey, she wanted to come along. And I paid a lot of money for the ride. But the KGB wasn't happy about us being up there."
"So they shot you down. Why were you borrowing a MiG anyway?"
"That's a long story."
On impulse I say, "I have time Commander."
He looks at me for a moment, lost at what he should say. Should he tell the story?
"I figure as I read your file you've got some right to hear something about me."
"Your MiG-story sure outruns mine big time."
"I didn't shoot down two in a dogfight." He shrugs his shoulders. "I was the one to get my six burned."
"That's classified. How do you know?"
"I have my sources. Though I don't get why it still is. The cold war's long over."
"Maybe they just forget about it. So how come you were in Russia – with Mac?" I add as an afterthought.
I see Rabb's eyes darken for a moment and his body slump a little further down his chair. He runs his right hand over his face, as if to get rid of something blurring his vision.
"I went in search of my father. I got word that he was transported form 'Nam to Siberia. Mac just followed…"
I clap my hand to my mouth as soon as I realize that there is just another thing the two of us have in common. But I can't keep the soft "Oh, my god," escape from my lips.
Rabb turns to face me.
"What is it?" His voice is soft. He sounds as if he might genuinely care.
I shake my head. I don't want to talk about it I long ago made my peace with it. At least I though I did. But right here in this empty court room the whole secrets and the indifferent feelings going along with my father's death come crashing back down on me. And yet, he might understand. He might be the one I could talk to.
"I lost my father in Vietnam as well. He was shot down November 5th 1965. We never learned what happened. Nobody told us. It was classified."
"Neither did my mother and I. My dad was shot down Christmas Eve '69. I learned bits and pieces from friends. My friends; my father's friends. I always believed in him to be alive. I wanted to believe. That's why we were in Russia, I needed to search for him, finally bring him home. Mac came with because she cared, because she knew that I was driven by emotion and would get myself killed. In the end I almost got her killed as well."
Even though I'm trying to struggle through my own emotions right now, I still register that his voice dropped just another level when he talked about Mac. But what interests me most, because it might give me some hope, is, "Did you find your father?"
For a long moment Rabb just stars ahead at the judge's bench. "Eventually. He is buried in the taiga. I don't know where."
I see his face contorted into a pained expression. A small tear slips from his eye and he quickly brushes it away, eager not to show his weakness. But I do understand him. He's got more than I have. I don't even know where my father died. Suddenly I feel uncomfortable on the wooden chair in the big, empty room.
"Let's take this some place else." I stand up gathering my mail while Rabb still doesn't move. "Commander, you're still with me?"
"Uh… yes. Where do you wanna go?"
"How about the O-Club? It's not that crowded around this time. We can have a beer or two."
"Sounds good to me."
We make our the way down to the street and across to the bar in silence, both pondering what to tell or ask next.
"Two draft beers, please." I order once the waitress comes to our table in the far back of the bar.
"So, are you going to fill me in on your experiences with MiGs?" Rabb asks after we've both kept silent for a while.
"Didn't you just read all about it?"
"I read that you shot down the two MiG-29's over the Indian Ocean and were rewarded a DFC. But I'm interested in how you came to meet two MiGs where there should've been none." He dropped his voice a little. After all this is still confidential.
"If truth be told, there were five."
"Five?" Now he's the one to stare at me with unbelieving eyes.
"Besides the two I shot down, Iceman – my wingman," I grin – he would get me for making him my wingman if he knew, "he shot down another and two took off."
"That's one hell of a mission."
"In fact I was only backup for that one. But when the Russians got one of ours down it was my turn. And guess what, just after my launch the cat broke. Both cats broke actually."
"Sounds like a bad movie."
"Yeah, or an overly patriotic one. However, that left only Ice and me up there. And Ice wasn't very happy with 5 MiGs at his tail. I hadn't much choice but to shot them down."
Only retelling these parts makes the whole mission sound relative easy. But I still recall the fight I fought on my way there. The sweat that pearled on my skin. How my vision became blurry. There were moments when I was about to turn around and wait for more of our jets to arrive. Moments when I was about to give in to the demons that threatened to overwhelm me. I can still hear Slider's voice calling for my intervention and my RIO's voice urging me on. Indeed it was their voices that made me realize that a F-14 cockpit wasn't made for four. That there was no place for either my dad, or Goose up there. That was when I could let go of them, at least as long as I was strapped in a super sonic jet.
My eyes meet Rabb's for a brief moment after I finish my story and resurface from the untold memories. This time they don't radiate understanding. I don't blame him for it, he can't know. Now his eyes are slightly shining, shining like all those pilots' eyes when you tell them of a successful air fight. I remember all of us; Ice, Slider, Hollywood and Wolfman – both were successfully rescued, and my RIO Merlin and I laughing and celebrating when we met back at the carrier. That was how we released our stress best.
"Guess the Russians weren't too happy." He leans forward, his elbows propped up on the table.
"Guess they weren't. They denied it even happened."
Suddenly Rabb sighs and immediately tells me why. "I doubt Russians ever gonna tell us the whole truth. Even though we're supposed to be friends."
"We're not exactly forthcoming either." Even though the cold war is officially over it doesn't mean nobody believes in it anymore. There are still secrets to be kept. "That's why you said you got help from some of your friends and some of your father's. They must have considerable influence if they can find out such things when neither the US nor Russia is giving something away easily."
"They have. Do you know any of your father's friends?"
"One. Admiral Metcalf. He flew with him. And he was the only one willing to tell me anything. But he didn't know much himself."
"I wouldn't have guessed."
Our beers arrive and we instantly reach for them. I need to drown the memories. We cling our glasses, "To friends."
"To friends," Rabb echoes me.
"When we talk as friends, how about you call me Pete or Maverick?"
"Alright. Harm." We cling our glasses once more.
Both of us take our time swallowing the amber liquid. Once I set mine down there is only about a third of it left. Harm's isn't much fuller either. I motion for the waitress to bring a second round.
"So friend, that brings me to your third ejection. It was near Mac's wedding, wasn't it?" I need to steer the boat into calmer waters.
"Did she tell you?"
I nod my head.
"What else do you know?"
"That you weren't the one to marry her, but you were the one she called the wedding off for."
His eyes fall onto the table, fixing on his glass. A pained expression crosses his face but is gone as soon as it arrived. This man has definitely got feelings for Mac, feelings that run deep.
"He called it off, but yeah I'm probably the reason." He downs the rest of his beer.
"What happened then, after she was free again?"
He runs his finger of the rim of his empty glass creating a soft sound. "She ran. Asked for a TAD in the Indian Ocean. We just never figured it out."
Our next beers arrive and the waitress all but pulls the empty glass from his grip.
"Would you have stopped the wedding?"
"I've asked myself the same question over and over again. I don't know. But I wanted her to be happy. And if that should be with another man, so be it."
I finally empty my first glass. "You think you can live with that?"
"Yes." I see a soft shake of his head betraying his words as lies. "I don't want to lose her friendship. That is much too precious."
"So you'd rather hurt yourself and her. Harm I need to tell you this, in the end it'll cost you all."
"As if I didn't know it. We've been there before and only barely managed to not lose what we had. Back then, at her engagement party I though I was going to lose her forever. And only because I was too afraid of what might happen." He shakes his head and falls into a lengthy silence, every now and then sipping his beer.
After a while I walk over to the jukebox and feed it with some coins to press a few buttons.
Sweet tunes fill the room. Thankfully it isn't that loud in the bar as of yet. I lose myself in the melody of a song I haven't heard in years. But right now I need it. I need it because this one song brings me close to my father like 'Great Balls of Fire' got me closer to Goose.
"A singer once told me that on the night she met my father a sailor on board the Ticonderoga sang this song spontaneously," Harm finally breaks out of his memories.
We both hum along with the second stanza of Otis Redding's 'Sittin' On The Dock Of The Bay'.
About two hours later we finally part, after having talked about several more things we share, and some we don't.
"So Mac was right indeed. We have some similarities."
"She told you?"
"Yeah, when I asked why she got along with you that well. I didn't understand back than. But now I do."
"You were jealous because of me?" I can't suppress the grin that wants to appear on my lips.
A smile forms on his face as well. "I'm not admitting anything."
"Harm, take the chance," I advise him when we shake hands at his car. "You both deserve it."
"I'll try."
"Let me know tomorrow how it went."
"Tomorrow? We won't be seeing us before Monday, and that's the day after."
"I just decided to invite the both of you for a little BBQ. How about 1600 tomorrow?"
"We'll be there." With that he enters his car.
Rolling down his window he adds, "But I can't promise anything."
"Do it. That's an order."
His voice is repeating my joking tone when he answers, "Aye, aye sir," and salutes me.
Maybe something good came of the day after all.
-J-A-G-
-J-A-G-
Thanks for all of your reviews. There I was thinking nobody read this and then I got loads of reviews. Keep it up. ;)
BTW: Has anybody an idea as to what Admiral Boone did throughout the 10th season? Did he still work for the SECNAV or did he retire?