AN: The following one-shot is set after chapter 7 of my story – In The Air Tonight. If you haven't read that, I kindly ask you to go read it and leave a review. Also it's recommended that you read the story first, since some things in the one-shots may not make sense to you.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned here.

In The Air Tonight One-shots
authored by WingsuitFlying

Chapter 2 – Babysitters

Requested by AmberRising

After the high-stakes detachment mission, the Dagger Team was supposed to be basking in their triumph. Instead, they were grounded, not by enemy fire or mechanical failures, but by a relentless flu. Phoenix, Bob, Rooster, Hangman, Payback, and Fanboy were all down for the count, confined to quarters and under strict orders to rest and recuperate. Maverick, their steadfast leader, was at his wit's end.

The base's medical team had done their best, but the potent medications prescribed to the team had an unexpected side effect: they made the normally disciplined pilots act like a bunch of overgrown children. The scene Maverick walked into was one of controlled chaos.

Maverick, ever the steadfast leader, found himself in uncharted territory. Managing a squadron was one thing, but handling a bunch of loopy, flu-ridden aviators was another. Desperate for some relief, he called in a favor.

Reaper, got the call early in the morning. A skilled pilot himself, Reaper was well-acquainted with the Dagger Team, having flown with them on several occasions. But he had never seen them like this.

"Thanks for coming, Reaper," Maverick said, greeting him at the door. "I really appreciate it."

Reaper clapped a hand on Maverick's shoulder. "Don't mention it. Where do we start?"

Maverick nodded towards the chaotic scene unfolding in the common room of the base housing of NAS North Island. "Take your pick."

As they stepped into the common area, the scene that greeted them was nothing short of chaotic. Rooster was sprawled out on the couch, headphones on, loudly singing off-key to classic rock songs. Hangman was seated at the table, surrounded by an array of snacks, meticulously organizing them by color. Bob was in a corner, staring intently at a Rubik's cube, his fingers fumbling over the colors. Fanboy and Payback were engrossed in a heated debate over which superhero was the best, their voices rising with each passing second.

Phoenix was the most subdued, curled up on an armchair and giggling at a video on her tablet. She looked up as Reaper and Maverick entered, her eyes lighting up. "Donnie! You're here!" she said in a child-like voice, her excitement palpable.

Reaper smiled and walked over to her, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Hey there, Tweety Bird. How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been hit by a truck," she replied, her voice muffled by her blanket. "Twice."

He chuckled softly. "Well, I'm here to help. Just rest, okay?"

Phoenix nodded, snuggling deeper into her blanket. Reaper turned to Maverick, who was watching the chaos with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

"Mav, what do we do?" Reaper asked, genuinely perplexed from the scene he encountered. He had never seen the Dagger Team like this before.

Maverick sighed. "Your guess is as good as mine. Let's just try to keep them from hurting themselves—or each other."

They split up, each taking on different tasks. Maverick approached Rooster, who was now singing a disjointed version of "Danger Zone."

"Hey, Bradley," Maverick said, gently shaking his shoulder. "How about we save the singing for when you're feeling better, huh?"

Rooster blinked up at him, a dopey grin on his face. "Mav, we should start a band! We'd be awesome!"

"Sure, kid. We'll talk about it later. For now, try to get some rest." Maverick smiled gently at him, as he tucked in the blanket snuggly around him.

Meanwhile, Reaper was trying to convince Hangman to put the snacks down. "Hangman, why don't you eat some of these instead of organizing them?"

Hangman looked up, eyes wide. "But, Reaper, they need to be in order! It's important!"

Reaper sighed. "Okay, how about we organize them later? Just eat something, alright?"

Bob, still struggling with the Rubik's cube, was the next on Reaper's list. Sitting beside him, Reaper gently took the cube from his hands. "Hey, Bob, why don't you take a break from this? It's not going anywhere."

Bob nodded, his eyes drooping. "Yeah, maybe you're right. But it's important that I finish it."

Reaper guided him to an empty couch, helping him lie down. "Get some sleep, buddy. You'll feel better soon."

As he moved on from Rooster to his target, namely Fanboy and Payback, Maverick found himself breaking up a near-physical altercation between Fanboy and Payback over Batman versus Superman. "Alright, you two, break it up. You're supposed to be resting, remember?"

They both looked at him, then at each other, and burst into laughter. Maverick shook his head, ushering them back to their beds.

Hours passed, and slowly, the Dagger Team began to settle. The medications, combined with their exhaustion, finally took effect, and one by one, they started dozing off to sleep. Maverick and Reaper, now able to catch their breath, sat down at the table, surveying the quiet room.

"Thanks again, Reaper," Maverick said, leaning back in his chair. "I couldn't have done this without you."

Reaper smiled. "They're a handful, but they're worth it. They'll bounce back soon enough."

Maverick nodded, a sense of pride washing over him. Despite the chaos, despite the childish antics, these were his team. And he wouldn't trade them for anything.

The early morning sun filtered through the blinds as Reaper and Maverick quietly exited the common area, leaving the Dagger Team to their much-needed rest. The hallway outside was mercifully quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos they had just managed to contain.

Reaper stretched, feeling the tension of the last few hours begin to ease. "I think we might need a medal for this," he joked.

Maverick chuckled softly. "I'll take a commendation for patience any day."

They walked in companionable silence towards the brek room, where Maverick knew they could grab some coffee and regroup. As they entered the empty room, Maverick headed straight for the coffee machine, pouring two cups and handing one to Reaper.

"Here's to survival," Maverick said, raising his cup in a mock toast.

Reaper grinned, clinking his cup against Maverick's. "To survival."

They sipped their coffee, the warmth and caffeine a welcome reprieve. Maverick leaned against the counter, watching Reaper thoughtfully. "You know, I didn't just call you here because you're Natasha's boyfriend. You're a damn good aviator, and you know how to handle a crisis."

Reaper nodded, appreciating the compliment. "Thanks, Mav. Means a lot coming from you. How are you holding up?"

Maverick sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I've faced enemy fire, high-speed chases, and dogfights, but this... this was something else. Seeing them like that, so vulnerable, it's a reminder of how much they mean to me."

Reaper nodded. "They're like family. It's tough seeing them down, but they'll bounce back. They always do."

Maverick smiled, a hint of pride in his eyes. "Yeah, they will. They're tougher than they look."

Just then, a familiar voice echoed from the hallway. "Mav? Reaper?"

They turned to see Hondo, one of the Chief Warrant Officers from the ground crew, standing in the doorway. "How are they?" he asked, concern etched on his face.

"Sleeping, finally," Maverick replied. "They've been a handful, but we managed."

Hondo chuckled. "I bet. Anything I can do to help?"

Maverick shook his head. "Just keep an eye on them. Make sure they stay hydrated and rest. We've got it covered for now."

Hondo nodded, giving a thumbs up before heading back down the hall. Maverick and Reaper finished their coffee, the moment of calm helping to restore their energy.

Reaper set his empty cup down, turning to Maverick. "What's the plan for the next few days?"

"Keep them resting," Maverick said. "They'll be out of commission for a bit, but once they're on the mend, they'll probably return to their squadrons. Nothing too strenuous until they're fully recovered."

Reaper nodded in agreement. "Makes sense. They need to be at their best, especially after a mission like that."

"Exactly," Maverick said. "And who knows? Maybe this little setback will remind them of how important it is to take care of themselves."

They both knew the Dagger Team was fiercely competitive and often pushed themselves to the limit. It was part of what made them the best, but it also made them vulnerable in unexpected ways.

As they prepared to head back to their quarters for some rest of their own, Maverick paused. "Hey, Reaper. Thanks again. For everything."

Reaper smiled. "Anytime, Mav. We're in this together."

As the base settled into a quiet hum, Maverick and Reaper returned to the common room to keep watch over the sleeping Dagger Team. Each pilot had found a comfortable spot: Rooster was curled up on the couch, Phoenix nestled under a thick blanket on the armchair, Hangman sprawled out on a recliner, and Bob, Fanboy, and Payback snuggled under blankets on the couch. The earlier chaos had given way to a serene calm, the room filled with the soft sounds of their breathing.

Maverick and Reaper took up positions near the door, sitting in two chairs they had pulled over. The dim lighting and the steady, rhythmic breathing of the team created an almost meditative atmosphere. Maverick broke the silence with a question that had been on his mind for a while.

"So, Reaper," he began, keeping his voice low, "how's flying the F-35?"

Reaper looked at Maverick, a grin spreading across his face. "Honestly? It's amazing," he replied, his eyes lighting up. "I hate it because it's a single-engine aircraft, which makes me nervous sometimes. But you know, the capabilities are just mind-blowing. The stealth features, the advanced avionics, and the sheer versatility of the thing—it's a game changer."

Maverick nodded, intrigued. "I've heard a lot about its 'Beast Mode.' What's that like?"

Reaper's grin widened. "Beast Mode is something else. The F-35 can carry a crazy amount of ordnance—I'm talking 22,000 pounds of weapons. You can go in stealthy, get the job done without being detected, and then switch to Beast Mode if things go south. It's like having two planes in one."

Maverick chuckled softly. "Sounds like they've packed a lot into that frame. But I still prefer the reliability of two engines. The F-18's twin engines have saved me more than once."

Reaper nodded in agreement. "There's definitely something to be said for that. The peace of mind with a twin-engine is priceless. But the tech in the F-35, it's hard to beat. It's like flying a spaceship."

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts. Maverick thought back to his early days as a young pilot, the rush of his first flights, and the lessons learned the hard way. The new generation of pilots, the Dagger Team, brought their own energy and challenges, but their dedication and spirit reminded him why he loved flying.

Reaper glanced at the sleeping pilots, a sense of pride swelling in his chest. "They did a hell of a job on that mission," he said quietly. "They've got a great leader."

Maverick looked at Reaper, his expression thoughtful. "They're the best team I've ever flown with. And they still have so much potential. It's my job to help them realize it."

Reaper nodded. "You're doing a great job, Mav. They look up to you."

Maverick sighed, a mixture of responsibility and pride in his voice. "Thanks, Reaper. It means to me more than you can imagine."

They continued their watch, the room peaceful and calm. The bond between them, forged through shared experiences and mutual respect, was palpable. They both knew that the challenges they faced, whether in the air or on the ground, were easier to bear because they had each other's backs.

As the first light of dawn began to filter through the windows, the Dagger Team stirred slightly but remained asleep, their bodies still recovering. Maverick and Reaper exchanged a look, a silent acknowledgment of the journey ahead.

The first light of dawn cast a soft glow over the room, accentuating the peaceful expressions on the faces of the sleeping Dagger Team. Maverick and Reaper remained vigilant, their quiet conversation having brought them closer as they reflected on their shared experiences and the team they were committed to guiding.

Maverick glanced over at Reaper, who had shifted his attention to Phoenix. She was curled up on the armchair, her breathing steady and calm. Reaper reached out gently, stroking her hair softly, a tender expression on his face. The gesture was intimate and comforting, speaking volumes about their deep connection.

Maverick watched the scene unfold, feeling a sense of warmth and reassurance. In moments like these, he was reminded that even the most hardened aviators had their soft spots, their vulnerabilities. The team was more than just a group of elite pilots; they were a family, bound by loyalty and mutual care.

Reaper's touch seemed to soothe Phoenix even in her sleep. She shifted slightly, nestling deeper into her blanket, a faint smile playing on her lips. Reaper continued his gentle caress, his eyes never leaving her face.

"She's lucky to have you," Maverick said quietly, breaking the silence with a voice full of sincerity.

Reaper looked up, meeting Maverick's gaze. "I'm the lucky one," he replied softly. "She's incredible. Strong, smart, and so damn brave."

Maverick nodded, a knowing smile on his face. "She is. They all are. But it's good to see that they have someone who cares for them beyond the call of duty."

Reaper's hand stilled on Phoenix's hair for a moment as he considered Maverick's words. "It's important," he said. "We push ourselves to the limit, but it's the connections we have that keep us grounded, keep us human."

Maverick leaned back, folding his arms as he looked around the room. "You're right. This job can take everything out of you if you let it. But having people you care about, and who care about you, makes all the difference."

Reaper resumed his gentle strokes, his touch light but constant. "It does. And it's moments like these that remind me why we do what we do."

Maverick sighed contentedly. "You know, watching over them like this, it feels like more than just duty. It's about making sure they're okay, not just as pilots, but as people."

Reaper nodded, his eyes softening as he looked at Phoenix. "Exactly. We have to look out for each other, on and off the battlefield."

The two men fell into a companionable silence once more, each lost in their own thoughts. Maverick felt a deep sense of gratitude for having someone like Reaper to rely on, someone who understood the weight of their responsibilities and shared the commitment to their team.

As the soft light of dawn filtered into the room, Phoenix's eyes fluttered open, meeting Reaper's gentle gaze. She smiled weakly, still groggy but comforted by his presence. Reaper continued to stroke her hair, his touch reassuring and steady.

"Good morning, beautiful," Reaper said softly, his voice filled with affection.

Phoenix's smile widened slightly. "Morning," she replied, her voice hoarse from sleep. "How long have you been here?"

"Long enough to make sure you're okay," Reaper responded, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

Maverick watched the exchange, feeling a profound sense of gratitude for the camaraderie and care within his team. The rest of the Dagger Team began to stir, each waking up slowly and stretching their sore muscles.

Rooster groaned as he sat up, rubbing his eyes. "What time is it?" he mumbled, looking around blearily.

"Early," Maverick answered, standing up and stretching. "But it's good to see you all waking up. How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been run over by a truck," Hangman grumbled, reaching for a bottle of water beside on the table besides the recliner.

Fanboy and Payback were still half-asleep, but they managed to sit up and exchange tired glances. Bob, looking slightly more coherent, gave a small smile. "Better, I think."

Maverick nodded, walking over to check on each of them. "Good to hear. Take it easy today. Rest, hydrate, and don't push yourselves."

Phoenix struggled to sit up, but Reaper helped her, propping up pillows behind her back. "Thanks," she murmured, leaning against him for support.

"No problem," Reaper said, his voice tender. He looked around at the rest of the team, who were slowly coming to life. "How about some breakfast? Something light to get you all started?"

Rooster perked up at the mention of food. "Sounds good. I could use some coffee too."

Maverick laughed. "Coffee might be pushing it. How about some tea and toast to start?"

Reaper stood up, ready to help. "I'll handle it, Mav. You stay here with them."

"Appreciate it, Reaper," Maverick said, grateful for the help. As Reaper left to fetch breakfast, Maverick sat down next to Rooster. "You did good, kid. Just need to get you back on your feet."

Rooster nodded, a small smile forming. "Thanks, Mav. We wouldn't have made it without you."

Phoenix, watching the exchange, chimed in. "He's right. You've been a rock, Mav. We're lucky to have you."

Maverick felt a surge of pride and warmth. "It's all of us together that make this team strong. And we'll get through this, just like we always do."

Reaper returned shortly with a tray of tea, toast, and some fruit. He distributed the food, making sure everyone had what they needed. The team ate slowly, their spirits lifting with the nourishment.

As they finished their light breakfast, Maverick looked around at his team, feeling a renewed sense of hope. "Alright, everyone. Today is about rest and recovery. No training, no stress. Just focus on getting better."

They all nodded, grateful for the reprieve. The bond between them, forged in the crucible of combat and now strengthened by shared vulnerability, felt stronger than ever.

Phoenix leaned back against Reaper, closing her eyes. "Thanks for being here," she whispered to him.

"Always," he replied, holding her close.

As the team settled into their relaxed state, the atmosphere in the common room became one of quiet camaraderie. Each member of the Dagger Team found their own way to unwind and recharge.

Phoenix, still leaning against Reaper, pulled out her tablet and started watching a movie as they moved to an empty couch. Reaper, ever the supportive partner, wrapped an arm around her shoulders, watching the screen along with her. They snuggled closer on the couch, the soft glow of the tablet screen casting a warm light over them. They were watching "Titanic," a film Phoenix had picked, much to Reaper's amusement. They had seen it several times before, and Reaper couldn't resist teasing her about one particular scene.

As the iconic scene where Jack and Rose cling to the floating door began, Reaper couldn't help himself. "You know," he started with a playful tone, "if Jack—"

Phoenix cut him off, her eyes narrowing in mock warning. "Don, if you tell me again that Jack and Rose could have used Jack's life jacket to increase the door's buoyancy, I swear—"

Reaper chuckled, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, I won't say another word. But you know I'm right."

Phoenix rolled her eyes but couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips. "Maybe, but it's a movie, and I like it just the way it is."

Reaper nodded, still grinning. "Fair enough. It's a classic, and I can see why you love it."

As the movie continued, Phoenix relaxed back into Reaper's embrace, enjoying the comfort of his presence and the familiar storyline. Despite his teasing, she appreciated that he watched it with her, sharing in one of her favorite pastimes.

Rooster, now more awake, grabbed a deck of cards from the table. "Anyone up for a game?" he asked, shuffling the cards with practiced ease.

"Count me in," Hangman said, moving to sit at the table across from Rooster. "But no betting. Last time I lost fifty bucks."

"Deal," Rooster chuckled, starting to set up the game.

Bob, ever the quiet presence, had found a book to read. He was nestled in a corner, the pages turning slowly as he immersed himself in the story. Every so often, he would glance up to check on the others, a small smile playing on his lips.

Fanboy and Payback, always the energetic duo, had found a small puzzle to work on together. They sat cross-legged on the floor, pieces spread out before them. Their banter was light-hearted, the puzzle providing a distraction from the aches and fatigue of their illness.

Maverick took a moment to soak in the scene. It was rare to see his team in such a state of relaxation, and he was grateful for the opportunity to witness it. He walked over to the couch where Rooster and Hangman were setting up their card game and pulled up a chair.

"What are we playing?" Maverick asked, curiosity piqued.

"Just a simple game of poker," Rooster replied, dealing the cards. "But don't worry, no money involved."

"Good to hear," Maverick said with a grin, picking up his cards. "Wouldn't want to embarrass you all too much."

Hangman laughed. "Bring it on, old man."

The card game progressed with friendly banter and competitive spirit. Rooster's quick wit and Hangman's brash confidence clashed amusingly, while Maverick provided steady, seasoned play.

Bob looked up from his book occasionally, his face serene. The quiet atmosphere and the presence of his friends provided a comforting backdrop to his reading. He found himself smiling at their antics, feeling a sense of peace.

Fanboy and Payback made steady progress on their puzzle, their laughter and occasional groans of frustration a testament to their playful competitiveness. "This piece definitely goes here," Fanboy insisted, trying to fit a piece.

"No way," Payback countered, gently taking the piece and finding its correct spot. "See? Told you."

Fanboy rolled his eyes but smiled. "Alright, you win this time."

Maverick glanced around the room, taking in the sight of his team. They were a diverse group, each bringing their own strengths and quirks to the table, but together they formed an unbreakable bond. Watching them interact, relaxed and at ease, filled him with a deep sense of pride and satisfaction.

As the morning progressed, the room remained a haven of rest and recovery. The card game at the table continued with lively conversation, the puzzle slowly came together under Fanboy and Payback's teamwork, and Phoenix and Reaper remained a comforting presence to each other.

Bob eventually closed his book, placing it aside and joining the others in conversation. The team's laughter and voices filled the room, a testament to their resilience and the strength of their bond.

Across the room, Rooster, Hangman, and Maverick continued their card game, the friendly competition providing a lively distraction. "Full house," Rooster announced, laying down his cards with a triumphant grin.

Hangman groaned. "Again? You've got to be cheating."

Maverick laughed, shaking his head. "Or maybe he's just better than you, Hangman."

"Beginner's luck," Hangman muttered, though he couldn't hide his smile.

Bob, having set aside his book, joined Fanboy and Payback at the puzzle. "How's it coming along?" he asked, sitting down beside them.

"Slow but steady," Payback replied, placing another piece into the growing image. "We're almost done with the border."

Fanboy looked up, grinning. "You want to help? We could use another set of eyes."

Bob nodded, leaning in to examine the remaining pieces. "Sure, why not? Looks like fun."

The room was filled with a sense of easy camaraderie, the Dagger Team finding comfort in each other's presence as they recuperated. Maverick, taking a moment to appreciate the scene, felt a deep sense of contentment. They had been through so much together, and seeing them like this—relaxed, laughing, and supportive of one another—was a reminder of why he had dedicated his life to flying and leading.

As the credits for "Titanic" rolled, Phoenix turned to Reaper, a playful glint in her eyes. "You survived another viewing without too much commentary. I'm impressed."

Reaper chuckled. "What can I say? I'm learning to appreciate it. Besides, watching it with you makes it worth it."

Phoenix smiled, leaning in to kiss him softly. "Thanks for that."

Reaper kissed her back, his voice tender. "Anything for you."

The closing credits of "Titanic" rolled to a gentle halt, and Phoenix snuggled deeper into Reaper's embrace, a contented smile on her face. The quiet in the room was broken only by the soft rustle of cards and occasional laughter from the other side of the room.

Rooster, Hangman, and Maverick were still engrossed in their card game, the stack of chips in front of Rooster growing steadily. Hangman leaned back, a look of faux exasperation on his face. "You've got to be cheating, Rooster. Nobody's that lucky."

Rooster just grinned, tapping the table with his fingers. "Maybe you just need to improve your poker face, Hangman."

Maverick laughed, shaking his head. "Hangman, when are you going to learn that confidence doesn't always translate to skill?"

Hangman smirked, his eyes glinting with amusement. "I guess I'll have to keep trying until I beat you all."

In another corner of the room, Bob, Fanboy, and Payback were making steady progress on their puzzle. Bob fit another piece into place, his calm demeanor a steadying influence on the group.

"Got it!" Fanboy exclaimed, snapping a piece into place. "We're getting close."

Payback nodded, his focus intense as he sifted through the remaining pieces. "Just a few more to go. This was a good idea, Bob."

Bob smiled modestly. "Thanks. It's nice to work on something together that isn't life or death."

Reaper glanced around the room, his heart swelling with pride and affection for this group of remarkable individuals. Phoenix, sensing his moment of reflection, squeezed his hand. "They're a good bunch, aren't they?"

Reaper nodded, his voice soft. "The best. And you're at the heart of it."

Phoenix blushed slightly, looking away to hide her smile. "It's not just me. We all contribute."

Maverick stood up, stretching and yawning. "Alright, I think it's time we called it for the night. You all need your rest, and I need mine."

Hangman and Rooster groaned in unison but started to gather up the cards. "Guess we'll have to finish this game tomorrow," Rooster said, winking at Hangman.

"Rematch is on," Hangman replied, shaking his head with a chuckle.

Phoenix and Reaper stood up, stretching out their stiff muscles. "Thanks for watching the movie with me," Phoenix said, giving Reaper a grateful look.

"Anytime," Reaper replied, his eyes soft and warm. "Let's get you to bed."

The team slowly dispersed, heading to their respective quarters. Maverick lingered for a moment, watching as Reaper gently guided Phoenix toward the door.

"Reaper," Maverick called out, causing him to turn. "Thanks for all your help today. It means a lot."

Reaper nodded, his expression earnest. "Anything for the team, Mav. We're all in this together."

As the last of the team members filed out, Maverick took a moment to turn off the lights and close the door behind him. The common room, now dark and quiet, felt like a sanctuary—a place of respite and recovery.

He walked down the hallway, passing by the doors of the pilots' quarters, each one emanating a sense of peace and camaraderie. Maverick felt a deep sense of satisfaction and pride in the bond they had all forged.

Back in Phoenix's quarters, Phoenix and Reaper settled into her bunk bed, the fatigue of the day weighing on them. Phoenix nestled close to Reaper, her head resting on his chest. "Today was good," she murmured, her voice sleepy.

"It was," Reaper agreed, stroking her hair gently. "Get some rest, Phoenix. We've got more challenges ahead, but we'll face them together."

Phoenix smiled, her eyes closing as she drifted off to sleep. Reaper watched her for a moment longer, then closed his eyes, letting the comfort of their shared bond lull him to sleep.

In his own quarters, Maverick lay awake for a while, his mind replaying the day's events. He thought of the team, their resilience, and the strength they drew from each other. As sleep finally claimed him, he felt a profound sense of gratitude for the family they had become.

The base remained quiet through the night, the Dagger Team resting and recovering, ready to face whatever the future held. United by trust, loyalty, and the unwavering support of one another, they were more than just a team of elite pilots—they were a family, ready to soar to new heights together.

AN: Another fun one-shot I got to write, this time the request from AmberRising being that the Dagger Team are brought down by a nasty bout of flu and Maverick and Reaper deal with the bunch of pilots who act like a bunch of overgrown children. Next one-shot is my idea, one which I wanted to incorporate in the story itself, but had to cut it due to it not fitting in the flow of the story—it's about an old friend of Reaper's from flight school and Phoenix and Reaper meeting him when they are stationed in NAS Lemoore. Reviews and criticisms are always welcome! If you have any requests for a one-shot you want to see written, let me know and I'll come up with something for you. Also I want to thank AmberRising and Batghost once again due to their unwavering support for In The Air Tonight!