"Mitchell? As in Pete Mitchell?"

"That's the one,"

You looked up as the pair of pilots talking walked by, both of them nodding. "Arrow," said the one called Bluejay, winking as he passed you.

"Jay," You nodded with a flirtatious smile. "Did I hear talk of the new trainee?" You fell into step with them.

"'sure did. Pete Mitchell is coming back for another round. Apparently he wants to be a full instructor here. He used to be a junior instructor, of course, but they won't let him teach full-time without passing with full marks a second time." Bluejay said.

"Mitchell... I feel like that should ring a bell." You squinted as the three of you turned towards the sun. You pulled out your aviator glasses.

Bluejay's wingman, Ripper, looked over at you in shock. "Hello? Pete Mitchell? Maverick? Only one of the best pilots of our time?"

"Ah," You nodded, smirking at Bluejay who was having trouble disentangling his shades from his shirt front. "Maverick. Didn't know his name was Mitchell."

"Yeah, well," Ripper put his hands on his hips as the three of you stopped at the runway staircase. "He's due to be here next week."

Just then, Bluejay managed to untangle his glasses. "Finally," he grumbled. Then he dropped them.

Both you and Ripper laughed as they bounced down the cemented steps. Bluejay chased them down the stairs.

"Don't step on them and crack the lense!" You called, still laughing.

Bluejay glanced up on the last step, "What?"

CRACK

Bluejay swore.

You and Ripper began the descent and after meeting the bottom, you obliged to a high five from Ripper who was clearly full of glee at his wingman's misfortune.

"Cheer up Jay, maybe they still work?" Ripper cocked a smile.

Bluejay stood up and turned you face you, his glasses scratched and cracked in both lenses.

You laughed again.

"Not funny." Bluejay grumbled, pulling the ruined glasses off. "This is gonna cost me at least half of my weekly spending.

"Maybe you should button your shirt better next time," Ripper suggested, turning towards the school doors.

You and Bluejay followed him through the entry and made your way to classroom C where your last class of the day was scheduled. The three of you walked in and you were hailed by your wingman, Clover.

He was a stout flier with no sense of humor. Most of your conversations pertained to content presented in class. Sometimes you would talk flight patterns to try when you flew together.

"Clover," You nodded formally. He returned the gesture without a word.

You seated yourself next to him. He had chosen a seat closest to the front which irritated you. You felt as though when in the front the spotlight was always upon you. And that was the last thing you wanted right now.

"Nice specs," You heard a lieutenant behind you say to Bluejay.

"Ah shut up, Justice. Like that isn't your fifth pair."

"Hey," Justice retorted. "This is my second pair, mind you. And a least I lost mine while doing something heroic. How'd you scratch yours up so bad?"

"I was fixing my engine and they fell into it." Bluejay said in a low tone.

"Lies," You turned in your seat to the group of guys behind you. "He dropped them down the runway stairs."

Laughter echoed throughout the room as everyone heard you.

"How'd you know, Arrow? Were you there?" A lieutenant named Red asked.

You nodded. "Saw it happen. So did Ripper. On the way here."

More laughter ensued. A few other guys seemed ready to crack another joke at Bluejay's expense but then the instructor walked in and barked for order. Everyone took their seats.

"Now class, we have a new student joining us today," said the instructor, feigning a kindergarten teacher-like attitude. "Please welcome, back with us for his second run, Maverick."

A ripple of whispers swept the room as a young man walked through the door in front of you. It was Maverick, alright.

You turned to look at Ripper on the other side of the aisle. He had said it wouldn't be until next week. Ripper shrugged at his inaccurate information.

"Here at Top Gun we pride ourselves in the best. If you don't cut it, you're out; gone; packing for a nice quiet retreat in the Korean mountains." Said the instructor. "If you wish to be an instructor here you must not only pass the course and earn substantial credit among your peers and evaluators, but you must complete at least four years in the field. Then, you must return to our beloved school, and pass the course once more. Mitchell here," He nodded to Maverick, standing at attention in front of the class. "Is on track to be the first instructor to join since seventy-one. You want that position, do you?"

"Yes sir!" Maverick answered, his features tense but controlled.

"Well you won't get anywhere by standing there, sit down, son."

Maverick took the only seat free in the front; right next to you. Apparently the new kid liked front row attention.

The instructor began lecturing on air resistance. You rolled your eyes when he turned to write on the blackboard. This was the fourth air resistance lecture this week.

After a painful hour of reviewing every single factor having to do with the wind, the instructor let your class out.

You stood and stretched as the rest of the men behind you started talking and joking with one another as usual.

"Hey, welcome back Mav,'" Justice called from the back.

Maverick turned and smirked up at the crew all staring at him.

"You gonna show us all up then?" Red jumped the desk in front of him to join the que of fliers circling up in the front.

Maverick clicked his tongue. "Is that even a question?"

"It is," A tall, dark haired pilot interjected. "Being away's probably made you go soft."

"Shut it Gator," You said, removing your cap and letting down your hair. "This is a Top Gun graduate you're talking to, he's essentially royalty."

Maverick swore and gaped at you. "You're a woman." He stated.

Mostly everyone laughed. Clover, you noticed, was leaving the room.

You smiled, amused. Everyone else had reacted the same way.

"Yeah, lot's has been happening since you were last here, Mav. Top Gun's got a lady flier now." said Dagger.

Maverick nodded. "I can see that."

"Don't let her fool you with her figure. Arrow's as sharp a shooter as they come. Part of me wonders why Clover got the lucky straw if I'm being honest." Red piped up again.

"At least I didn't get paired with you, Red. Your navigational skills could compete with Bluejay's shades."

"Hey!" Bluejay exclaimed, mock outrage eminent.

Maverick joined in the laughter that erupted around your poke.

As your group left the room and slowly split up to find open showers and personal belongings, you turned a corner to head to the women's stalls.

A hand grasped your upper arm, turning you around. Maverick stood before you, a whole head taller, a smirk lingering on his lips. "Arrow, right?"

You nodded, putting a hand on your hip. "This is the route to the ladies' room Mav, if you're a bit mixed up."

Maverick smiled. "I've never heard of a woman making it to Top Gun."

"Things are changing," You stated. "You got a problem?"

"Not at all," Maverick said, his smirk broadening as you felt your cheeks redden.

You raised an eyebrow. "Then what are you doin' here?"

Maverick pulled out his own aviator glasses and put them on even though the sun was already behind the mountains. "Just catching up, Arrow." He winked, turned, and left. Your cheeks burned again as he rounded the corner.

You smiled, shook your head, turning towards the showers again. "Maverick," You said to yourself. Now you remembered the name. A reputation of impressive flying and lady-wooing came with it. And now that you'd met him, you didn't doubt it one bit.

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