Watching the biplane loop and roll around the sky was nearly relaxing for Bradley. One of the first sounds he could remember hearing was a propeller plane going over his home during his naptime as a toddler.
He could also remember the scream of the jets.
"You wanna ride backseat today?" Maverick, in his flight suit, asks beside him.
"They approved it?" Rooster is surprised by this. The regulations surrounding air performances are pretty strict.
"They weren't happy with the last minute addition, but I compared it to a heritage flight. For once, the "old man" card worked pretty well."
"You didn't!"
Maverick's grin says it all. And he doesn't look like he regrets a thing.
"I told them that you were active duty and knew how to handle a jet and that you couldn't possibly mess anything up or cause an incident. And you would be a better role model for the kids." He hands Rooster a clipboard. "Just read through this and sign it. I'll get it back to the office."
"Once a Maverick..." Rooster starts.
"...Always a Maverick. Though, let's be honest. I was the first."
Rooster opts not to respond, instead turning his attention to the clipboard in his hand.
"Heya Pete!" Penny calls. She and Amelia are walking towards them, each holding two ice cream cones.
"Thanks!" He grabs one. "Better let me hold on to his. The kid's got to finish his homework."
"Already done, old man!" Rooster lunges for his cone before Maverick can eat any of it.
"When are you up, Mav?" Amelia asks.
"I'm the "Navy: Past and Future Demo". Right before the Blue Angels. Two'o'clock. Rooster here is going to fly with me."
"Are you sure you want to fly backseat with a guy who's callsign is "Maverick"?" Amelia asks, jokingly.
"You don't know the half of it. Taxiway, is not a runway, Mav. Please don't forget."
He shoots the older man a very meaningful glare.
Maverick just barks out a laugh. Both women are somewhat confused by that particular remark, but decide to drop it.
That's the tough part of being in the Navy. The best stories are usually the ones you can't tell, because they didn't officially happen. But, it does make for a lot of fun messing with people. And in Maverick's case, you can sometimes get a free F-14 upon retirement from the Navy, with some not so bad strings attached.
-o0o- -o0o- -o0o
As they sit on the taxiway, waiting for their turn to fly, Rooster takes in the moment. Sure, this isn't the same as flying a mission with Mav, but it's kind of nice to have his dad's old seat in the same kind of jet his dad used to fly in, and to have all of this on a warm late winter day without getting shot at.
"You ready back there?" Mav calls from the front.
"Missing my instrumentation and stick, but other than that..."
"Don't worry, kid. I'll take care of you." He jokes.
"Sure, but with you doing all the doing, I'm left with doing all the thinking. And if I think with you up there, I get scared." He quips back.
"Aw, don't worry Sunshine. I'll make sure the earth stays far away until we're ready for it's "hello"."
"It's "starshine", Mav. We have to watch that movie again before I leave."
"You're a naval aviator, and you want to watch a children's movie?!"
"Hey, it's got comical quotes."
A laugh echoes through his headset.
"Fair enough, but I'm keeping the "sunshine" part. You were being a Negative Nelly."
The F-4 Phantom takes off ahead of them, the sound of it shaking their canopy.
"Our turn. Here we go!" Maverick sounds like a giddy child. Rooster looks out of the canopy with a sharp pinch of alarm.
"Uh, Mav? We're still on the taxiway!"
"I got permission. And there's nothing to hit! Relax, kid. It's part of the show!"
"Mav!"'
The roar in the engines steals whatever choice words he might have had about the situation as they rocket off the ground and go hurtling into the sky.
Maverick does a couple of barrel rolls over the field, then slows down and flies in formation with an F2H Banshee, an F4 Phantom, an F/A18 Hornet, and an F-35 Lightning II.
They make a few passes over the flight line, then circle around the airfield, out of sight of the crowd as the Banshee peels away from the formation for it's part of the show.
Nine minutes later, the Phantom rolls out.
Rooster watches the land pass by below. All the houses, the desert, the mountains behind them.
A sense of sadness and nostalgia brushes against his consciousness. It's sort of funny, in a sad and ironic kind of way. When he's home, he misses his jet and the carrier and the sky. When he's out there, he misses home.
"You ready for some real fun?" Mav calls over the headset, startling him out of his reverie.
"No more crazy stunts." He tries to keep his tone no nonsense, but a note of pleading enters his voice.
"Nothing will surprise you, if you looked at the flight plan."
His stomach drops.
"Of course I didn't! I didn't have any time to!"
"Well then, hang on!"
Then, they drop for real, as they roll into a nosedive into the aerobatic box.
Rooster is just along for the ride as Mav performs stunt after stunt after stunt.
He's actually quite enjoying it, right up until he sees the Phantom coming straight for them.
"Ready for a dogfight?"
"Part of the show?"
"Yep!"
Pinned to his seat with the sudden acceleration, he does everything he can to simply hold on (without handholds, that is difficult!).
The Tomcat at first has the upper hand. It's a bit faster, far more agile, has better targeting (which has been removed anyway, it being operated by a civilian).
But the Phantom unexpectedly pulls up and away, with Maverick and Rooster shooting right by below it.
It comes screaming back down and at the last second, Maverick pulls a Cobra, the Phantom passes by and the show is over.
"Did we really win, or was that scripted?" Rooster asks.
" It's an airshow. It's all scripted." Maverick throttles down for landing, this time using the runway.
Disappointed, but eager to go look at the F35 ground display, Rooster bites back a retort about the taxiway takeoff possibly not being planned. An idea blossoms in his mind, beautiful in it's simplicity and very effective in it's revenge.
When they hit the ground, he fishes his phone out of his pocket and starts typing.
Earhart: You are an evil genius, Birdbrain.
Rooster: And that is why you love me. You're going to have to hurry though! We're going to stop along the taxiway with the Phantom and wave to the crowd, but after that it only takes two or three minutes to park.
Earhart: When have you ever known me to fail?
Rooster: Never :)
As soon as they pull up to the display area, Amelia helps to pull out the ladders for them. Maverick is busy untangling a harness strap, which is a very lucky break indeed.
A couple of people start milling around outside the blocked off area, looking at the jets that have just landed from the performance. Some are there to gawk at the Blue Angels jets as their aviators do their preflight checks.
Rooster steps out of the plane, feeling lighter than he has since shore leave began and turns to watch Maverick descend from the cockpit.
A loud, rude sound erupts from the second step on his ladder.
Several people along the fence line turn to stare. A few laugh out of sheer surprise.
Maverick's face is a mix of sheer confusion, dismay, and abject horror.
Rooster and Amelia burst out laughing, Amelia wheezing and Rooster holding his stomach and trying not to bust his ribs.
"Ok. I didn't think I ate any eggs this morning." Maverick tries to keep a straight face. He really does. And it shows. But it's not enough and he breaks into a grin, even though he's beet red.
"Alright, you two. Who's idea was this?" Penny does a far better job at concealing her expression, but her eyes still crinkle around the edges.
"That, Mav, is for the taxiway stunt. Gotcha!" Rooster manages to get out by way of reply.
"That's fair." Maverick acknowledges, glancing around. Almost everybody at the fence has already gone back to looking at the aircraft. He waves and grins at the ones still gawking at him.
"Come on! We have to get a good spot on the flight line for the Blue Angels!" Amelia tugs at his arm.
The four of them take off towards the growing crowd near the runway.
-o0o- -o0o- -o0o
Early March 2021
"You ready?" Pete asks, as Rooster steps up the security checkpoint.
"Yep."
"Did you forget anything?" Penny glances around the backseat and looks like she's contemplating opening the trunk door again.
"Nope."
This is the tough part of deployment. Going through the gate, watching them recede from view in the car without him.
In a way, it makes him feel like a small child again, pressed up to the fence, watching Mav and Dad getting into their jet to fly away once more. The world too large, and he...far too small.
"Go get 'em!" Pete slaps his shoulder.
Tiger. Sport. Son. Rooster echoes in his head the unsaid words. Unsaid ever since the Academy papers. Maybe Pete thought he was beyond kid names now. Maybe he felt guilty for ever having used them. Maybe he thought they weren't close enough yet to begin again. Rooster has missed those names. But every time he's thought to mention, it's when others are around. Pete is almost never away from Penny or Amelia now. It's aggravating.
"Will do." He responds, moving his hand up for a handshake. At the last second he changes his mind and gives Pete a hug. He turns to Penny, still seated in the car.
"Come on. Everybody gets one. The famous Rooster hugs! Get 'em here!"
She laughs and throws her arms around him. "Don't ever lose your sense of humor. You hear?"
"Yes Ma'am. Give Amelia a hug for me when she comes back for the weekend." He says.
Then, like ripping off a band aid, he turns and walks through the gate and doesn't look back.
The minute he's away from all the in-processing and paperwork and is out on the tarmac, he feels right back at home and all thoughts are on the skies and seas ahead.
Pulling up off the runway, the feeling of his jet responding to his slightest touch, he banks off over the Pacific, bound for the carrier USS Nimitz.
The flight is uneventful. Landing on the carrier is as uneventful as it be for screaming in from 150mph to zero on a cable. Rooster breathes a sigh of relief when he emerges from the cockpit, not safe, but safer than he was moments before.
The sounds of the aircraft carrier assault his ears as he removes his helmet and walks hastily away from the flightline. He gets his bunk assignment and heads that direction.
There is no scream of the hydraulic catapaults today, as all aircraft are flying in, not out. The carrier has just come back online from an overhaul.
Rooster can't really tell. It looks like an aircraft carrier. Still metal. Still noisy. Still smells like oil.
He's here for the jets, and that's for a reason.
There are a few younger 20 somethings wandering the halls looking lost and it's very evident that this is their first time on board a ship this size.
He arrives in his 3 person bunk room to find another aviator already there.
The blonde haired, brown eyed man stands and offers a handshake before Rooster even has a chance to drop his bag.
"Hey there! How are you? I'm Crapshoot."
"Rooster." He shakes hands a little awkwardly, shifting his bag on his shoulder.
The guy snorts a bit. "Where are the feathers?"
"They got shot off by a missile." He deadpans. "Did you draw names out of a hat?" His hands now free, he starts unpacking his bag, hanging up his spare uniforms in the leftmost locker by the bunks and stowing some books and a laptop under his mattress.
"I think that's how callsigns work, man." Crapshoot says, shrugging and sliding back into his middle bunk.
When Rooster is sure Crapshoot isn't looking, he carefully places an old Walkman and a few tapes in the little storage space too. Secrets like this don't last long in a small space like this, but for now, it's his.
"Mine was very deliberate." He mutters.
"Really? How so?"
He hadn't meant to be heard.
"Doesn't matter. Saw some new guys on the way in. They look pretty lost. Think we should lend 'em a hand?" He asks, hoping to distract the younger man.
"Nah, let 'em learn." He scrolls through his smartphone, taking advantage of the few hours of Internet available.
"Ok then." Rooster heads out to see who he can save from wandering into the captain's quarters (someone had actually done that on his last deployment. As funny as it had been, Rooster didn't wish to see it happen again).
He finds one of the kids from the earlier group, the others having found where they were going, or perhaps wandering further from their goal. The lone young officer stood looking at a door across from him marked "restroom".
Rooster stops shorter than he intends to, afraid he might step on the shorter guy.
The bright blue eyes turn to scan his face, taking in his presence, but then turning back to contemplate the wall again.
"I'm lost." He states, matter-of-factly.
"Need help?" He tries not to laugh at the difference in their height. The kid looks like a school boy compared to him.
"Maybe. I'm not sure yet." He's still staring at the wall.
"You see a map there or something?" He glances briefly at the wall.
"Yes."
Rooster looks sideways at the wall, then at the kid.
"Are you sure you're ok?" He asks.
"Quite. I'm going through all the routes I've tried."
"Your buddies didn't take this long."
"That's why they're going to be more lost than I am, and possibly late to dinner."
The whole situation is becoming quite ludicrous. Rooster is just reaching a hand out to the kid's shoulder to steer him towards some help when he suddenly turns and makes a beeline past Rooster, back towards where his quarters are.
For a five foot something, this guy is a fast walker!
As soon as Rooster catches up to him, he introduces himself properly.
"I'm Giant. It's nice to meet you."
"Rooster. Likewise."
"It looks like we'll be neighbors." Giant states, as they come up to the dead end in the hallway near Rooster's quarters.
"Hey! Giant! Long time, no see man!" Crapshoot comes barreling out of the bunk room and one arm hugs the kid.
"Want to try your luck at cards again, 'Shoot?"
"Uh, no. No, I do not!" The taller man backs away as though the little guy is radioactive.
"We don't have to make it a betting game." Giant chuckles.
"There is no point to a game of chance without a bet." Crapshoot states it as though it were an absolute fact.
Which, in Rooster's mind, it kind of is.
"I'm missing the context here." Rooster looks between the pair.
"If you fly, drink, and bet with Crapshoot often enough, you'll find out where his luck is." Giant slaps 'Shoot on the shoulder and heads into his bunk area.
Rooster glances back at him, then at the other man standing in front of his own door, eyebrow raised in question.
"Care to explain?"
"He's not wrong. Might as well show rather than tell. You'll find out soon enough." He sighs.
A/N This chapter may be lengthened in the future. I just had a bunch of oc aviators pop into my head the other night out of absolutely nowhere and had to write them in. So, chapter 2 got rewritten. Honestly, I like this version better. But am eager to hear what y'all think! Review or pm me with constructive criticism, ideas you'd like to see in the story, or general thoughts on it. Every bit is appreciated!