5. Dinner for Two

Hondo left to head home while Pete was still working away on her bike into the evening. She tried to help where she could, but clearly it was in very capable hands. And her curiosity kept getting the better of her and she continued exploring. Plus, he seemed very focused and in the zone, so she didn't want to interrupt his work.

"Sorry, this is taking so long," he finally said, standing and wiping his greasy hands on a rag. "It's got me stumped."

"That's fine, thanks again for looking at it."

"I'm not sure I'm doing any good..." He looked down at his watch. "I'm getting hungry - you want something to eat?"

"You cooking?"

"Yeah - those delivery drivers don't come out this far, I've tried."

She chuckled. "All right." She hadn't realized how hungry she was getting. "What are we having, Captain?"

"Let's see-" He disappeared through the door at the far end of the hangar. He came back a few moments later holding a can. "How about some soup?"

"Sounds good."

With her approval he disappeared back inside, presumably to start heating up their dinner. He came back a few minutes later.

"I like all your photos," she said, hoping to get some more info on his side of the story.

"Thanks. Carole gave me a lot of them."

Bingo! "Brad's mom?"

"Yeah."

She unfortunately had never had the pleasure of meeting Carole Bradshaw - never met either of Brad's parents - but she just knew that woman was a goddess. And she had raised the sweetest boy.

She wanted to ask, so badly, about Bradley and their history and their strained relationship, she was itching with questions, burning with them. But she felt like she barely knew the guy. And this was between him and Bradley, it wasn't really her place. She was just a curious mutual friend.

Something else broke into her thoughts then. "Do you smell that? Is something burning?"

"Aw shit-" He sprinted into the back room, returning moments later, pot in hand. "Well, this soup's off the menu..."

"Sorry, I shouldn't have distracted you."

"Naw, I shouldn't have left it unattended." He scraped the burnt soup into the trash. "Let's try this again - maybe we should move in here."

The back of the hangar was quaint, with a small living area off the kitchen, a desk, and further back she guessed, where the bedroom was.

Pete poured another can of soup into the pot (after scrubbing it clean) and turned on the stove. "Okay, second time's the charm..."

"I'm sorry, I feel guilty wasting it."

"No, don't be. Honestly, if it were just me, I'd probably eat it. But I can do better with guests. Besides, I need to go grocery shopping anyway."

"Where would you like to sit? I can get the place sets ready."

"Sure, thanks - table I guess. This is nice, I'm usually by myself so I eat wherever."

"Honestly same. I usually eat in front of the TV or with my marking. I know that's not really good, but-" She finished off with a shrug. "A dinner with company at the table sounds like it'll do us both some good."

"It does - and with food that's not burnt." He instructed her to where cutlery and bowls were, and she gathered and set them on the small table in the corner, along with some paper towel since Pete said he didn't have any napkins.

"Sorry, here-" He moved a pile of stuff off the table, stood with it in his hands for a moment, head whipping back and forth seeking a space to put it, before he eventually decided to just toss it on the couch, which already had its own pile going. "You can definitely tell I don't use this often - or at least not how I'm supposed to use it." He seemed genuinely embarrassed.

She brushed it off. "Totally good. Trust me, I've seen worse."

"You live alone, you said?" He made sure to be keeping an eye on the soup while they chatted.

"Yeah. I moved out here for my degree and never left. Home wasn't the same after my dad died. My mom and I drifted a part a bit."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, it sucks, but it is what it is, I guess. But Cali, it feels like home."

"It does," he agreed.

"And you?"

"Yeah, just me. I seem to operate best that way, or so I've been told." He shrugged. "Hey, I think it's ready."

She was so absorbed in his words, trying to untangle them - yes, again, she was way to invested in this - that she almost didn't realize he was dishing up their soup. "Oh, yeah, thanks."

The conversation became more casual after that, easygoing and fun, less serious.

"I don't have anything for dessert, I'm afraid, but I could make coffee?" he offered as he cleared their dishes.

"That's fine, but thank you. I should be off - I've got a shit ton of marking to do. Thank you for everything though, this was nice."

"You're welcome. It was."

"Can I help clean up at all?"

"Oh, no," he said, brushing it aside. "As you can see, cleaning up is not my top priority. Plus we didn't use many dishes - I'll just wait until I have a bigger pile to do and then do them all at once."

They definitely shared that mindset. "Sounds like a plan."

With her bike out of service until further notice, he offered her a ride home. "Bike or car?"

"How about plane?"

He chuckled. "Got a wide enough street to land on?"

"Not so sure..." They shared a chuckle. "Bike over car any day."

"I like the way you think."

So she took her helmet and gloves and hopped on the back of the bike, grasping his shoulders. It had been a long time since she'd been a passenger, but it was kind of nice. Just like the day she'd had - the rest of it had turned out quite unexpected, but nice.

When they arrived in front of her apartment building he offered her his hand to help her off the back of the bike. She had a lot of experience with motorbikes, but she found the gesture sweet.

"I'll keep you updated and have it back to you as soon as I can," he promised.

"Thank you, I owe you one."

"Not a problem. My pleasure. Tinkering like that helps me focus, and I need all the focus I can get right now. Here, I promise to keep you updated-" He slipped his phone from his pocket and handed it out to her.

She entered herself as a contact, putting the little motorcycle emoji next to her name, something she did for all her own contacts. Bradley had a jet next to his, of course.

"But you'll be okay getting places in the meantime?"

"Oh yeah, I'll survive on transit for a little while."

"Okay, well, if you need anything, let me know. I have multiple modes of transportation, as you know."

She chuckled, picturing him showing up in that plane and not even being surprised that he would do it. "Thanks. Good night, Pete."

It felt so strange calling him by name. But he wasn't Captain to her, he wasn't Maverick. He was, in fact, Pete. That's how she knew him, or, at least, was getting to know him. Perhaps in her head she referred to him as his rank and call sign listening to Bradley's stories, but now that she had met him in real life, Pete seemed like the right fit.

"Night, Finley." He waited until she entered the building before riding off into the night.

Having so much fun writing them together ;) Hope it's fun to read too!

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed! :)