𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍



↳ 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ''cause there's no points for second best'





━━ 𓄼 𓄹 ━━

MIRAMAR NAVAL AIR STATION San Diego, California



𝐂𝐀𝐌 had seen many stupid things after all her years of flying.

Sometimes, she wondered if she should've started keeping track at Whiting Field of how many times a pilot nearly burned in, botched a landing, or failed an aerial maneuver in a way that almost cost them their life. Those pilots were immature and out to prove themselves.

And it seemed that today, Bradley Bradshaw had decided to follow suit. A cobra maneuver, of all things.

"Who's going to lead this mission if these idiots keep turning everything into a pissing contest?" Cam muttered under her breath. Not quietly enough because Natasha let out a bark of laughter.

They walked side by side down the base hallways and straight out to the tarmac. Everyone had been gathered next to the com radio listening to Rooster and Maverick go at it, slack jawed and riveted. Cam punching Jake in the jaw was suddenly old news. This feud between Rooster and Maverick was the newest point of intrigue. No one quite understood what, precisely, had occurred that made it seem like Bradley Bradshaw was out for blood against their flight instructor.

Cam understood far easier than she would've liked.

When they made it out into the sunlight, Hondo was walking away from Rooster and back towards the hangar. There was no way he had done two hundred that fast, and judging from the way Hondo glanced over his shoulder, he had cut Bradley some slack.

He dropped out of push up position as they approached, sitting with his arms balanced on his knees as he caught his breath.

Natasha beat Cam to it as they got within earshot. "Breaking the hard deck? Insubordination? Are you trying to get kicked out?"

He continued to stare at the ground. Voice wavering, he said, "Don't worry 'bout it."

"This affects more than just you," Cam reminded him.

Surprisingly, he didn't argue. "I realize that."

"Look," Natasha said, squatting down so her face was level with his. "I'm going on this mission. But if you get kicked out, you leave us flying with Hangman."

He still didn't look up. "Berlin punched Hangman in the face, I feel like that's more concerning."

Cam rolled her eyes. "Do not bring me into this. That was completely different."

"Okay, fine," Natasha gritted her teeth and glanced over at Cam. "You're both going to get kicked out if you keep doing stupid shit." Her attention returned to Bradley. "Talk to me, what the hell was that?"

"He pulled my papers."

Natasha wrinkled her nose. "What? Who?"

"Maverick. He pulled my application to the Naval Academy. Set me back four years."

The engines of the F-18 taxiing out behind them echoed louder, and Natasha almost had to yell to be heard. "Why would he do that?"

Bradley glanced over his shoulder, contemplating. "I never figured that out."

It was clear he had made up his mind to be unreasonable. Natasha stood up and met Cam's eyes, mouthing, "Do something."

"Me?" she mouthed back, frowning.

Before Natasha walked off, she clapped a hand on Cam's shoulder as if to say good luck.

That left just the two of them. Sighing deeply, Cam sat down on the tarmac next to him. She didn't need to say anything; the awkward silence spoke for her.

"It was a dumb move," he finally said.

Cam watched the planes roar off into the clouds. The noise level decreased, and they could again talk at a normal volume. "It was definitely a dumb move. But it looked cool."

Finally, finally, he picked up his head enough to look at her with a small grin. "Yeah?"

She just looked at him. "That went straight to your head."

"Tell you what. If I ever get too cocky, you have full permission to deck me, too."

"In that case, I should've decked you yesterday," she retorted.

"Fair enough." He stared out at the horizon. "I can't just let it go, Cam. After everything he did, all I get is some half assed apology."

Cam had heard it on the radio. What's past is past. It was indeed easier for Maverick to say now that he just wanted the years to elapse and for Bradley to be close again. But it was never going to be that simple.

Instead of saying anything else, she just nodded and told him what Maverick had told her. "Eventually, you're gonna have to move on. We're all learning to let go."

He was thinking of something else now, gaze focused only on her. His mood dropped, tone plummeting as he spoke. "I guess we are."



𓄼 𓄹



𝐈𝐓 came in waves.

Things were looking up between the two of them; Rooster and Berlin might finally be on even standing again. But then something new came along to topple the whole thing, and they once again started from scratch. It was like they both suddenly got a bitter taste from the past.

And that was exactly what had happened today.

It was their last day of dog fight training; Maverick had gotten his fill of kills, and Simpson was desperate that they move forward with more varied training. Tomorrow, they would be briefed on their next stages. Today's wide open blue skies would still be used for their final chances at taking Maverick down.

As soon as Maverick gave them the day's line up, Bradley's spirits sank with each letter of the word BERLIN. The last time he had gone up with Cam and Fritz had been yet another disaster, and any of the progress they might have made yesterday instantly evaporated. Cam had yet to do anything other than glare at him, her competitive edge showing its teeth with a vengeance.

He no longer knew which was worse: a pissed off Cam, or a displeased Maverick.

"So, Rooster, got any more surprises for us today?" Fritz joked as they walked along the tarmac.

Bradley was going to keep up with the banter, but as soon as Cam spoke he knew he was done for. "You'd better fucking not," she told him, pushing her sunglasses down to the end of her nose.

"Hey, guys, I didn't mean it like that–" Fritz tried, but neither of them heard a word of it.

"You have to trust me up there, or this is going to end exactly like last time," Bradley told Cam.

"Oh? You mean trust the pilot who almost killed himself going toe-to-toe with Mav because his feelings were hurt?" Cam smarted. The dig cut deep, and she knew it.

"At least I finally did something," he seethed. "You would've just sat there and let Hangman take the lead."

"Yeah, shame on me for trusting any of you assholes. I did what I was supposed to do."

"For once in your life."

She stopped in her tracks. "What's your point, Rooster?"

He took a step closer to her, damn near spitting he was so mad. "My point is that you are willing to jeopardize everything on the ground, and yet you won't do anything in the air. We're about to go up there together. I have a right to know where your head's at."

She leaned forward. "Are you looking for an explanation, or are you gonna just assume that you're right?"

They were almost chest to chest now, no space between save for their threats. "Don't mess this up for me."

Her brown eyes narrowed with spite. In the afternoon sunlight, they looked like liquid gold. "You do a fine job of that on your own."

Fritz glanced between them and cleared his throat. "Are you guys done? Mav's waiting."

"Let's get this over with," Bradley decided.

Unsaid went his concern, his worry. Something was bothering her. After Hangman's comment about Nikita Kasper, Bradley had done his own research. Cam's record showed two air-to-air kills that no one seemed to be talking about. In theory, she had more experience than any of them. And yet, he wasn't the only one who had noticed she was holding herself back. It seemed he wasn't the only one who couldn't let go of the past.

Up in the air, they scanned the skies. Maverick had gone up ten minutes before they had so he could make his approach, but he was still nowhere to be seen.

"Got anything, Fritz?"

"Nope," he sighed with a shake of his helmeted head. "What is it with this guy and the element of surprise?"

"He's messing with us," Bradley said bitterly.

"And it's working," Cam turned her head to look at him through the canopy. "You're letting him get to you."

Before he said anything else, Fritz shouted, "Tally! Twelve o'clock!"

Bradley was about to pull on the yoke, but a part of him knew there was only one way to play Maverick's game. This might not be a complete lost cause.

"Bank left, Berlin. Stay on the defensive."

"Copy."

Cam moved up into a safer position as Rooster and Maverick entered into the circular flow of a one-on-one dogfight. They passed by each other in a rush of air.

"Make your move, Rooster," Maverick said over the radio.

A surprising rush of calm passed over him. Unlike with Hangman, he knew his wingman would be up to this. Better yet, he trusted her with his life. "Berlin, drop low." And then on their private channel, he spoke again. "Drag him down low, try to get a shot off. I'll cover your six."

Maverick turned out of the aerial maneuver and followed Cam, the easier target, down to the ground. The hard deck had been lowered at Maverick's request after yesterday, and she used it to her advantage as she leveled out at 4,000 feet.

"Get ready, Fritz," Cam said over the radio.

She turned the nose of the plane up straight towards the sky and yanked on the stick hard. It was a perfect pirouette maneuver, a clean loop that was meant to be performed at relatively low speeds.

They were not, however, moving at such speeds.

"Holy shit!" Fritz shouted from behind her. There was a hollow smack on the radio as his helmet hit the side of the canopy.

Cam released the angle of attack to regain her speed. They were now positioned right behind Maverick. Watching her fly was something else, a sharp gracefulness that could almost rival Maverick's years of experience.

Fritz recovered quickly. "Aiming!"

There was a brief moment where Bradley thought he had missed. Then, the sweet sound of the kill tone rang out over the coms.

In her best Maverick impression, Cam lowered her voice and said, "And that's a kill."

"Roasted and toasted, old man," Fritz echoed with glee. "Enjoy those pushups."

"Berlin, Fritz," Maverick addressed them with a resigned sigh. "Nice work."



𓄼 𓄹



𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 Maverick do his two hundred push ups was almost enough to make up for the last week of training.

Everyone was ecstatic. Cam and Fritz were now at the head of the competition. The thing was, she knew it was only half their doing. If Bradley hadn't set them up for the shot, it never would have happened. And yet, Rooster asked for none of the attention or approval from Maverick, something she knew he so desperately wanted.

She saw the same thing she had always loved about him. Selflessness that could almost be called humility.

By the time Cam made it to the locker room, everyone else had already filtered out and left for the day. Just as she was hanging up her forest green flight helmet, her phone buzzed in her pocket. A text from Natasha.

natty: u free tonight?

Cam slammed the locker shut with her hip. depends on what your idea is, she typed back.

The response came almost immediately.

natty: we're celebrating. hard deck at seven?

A little laugh escaped her lips. In that case, I'm very free.

natty: course you are. civ dress code, I need to ditch the tan for a night.

After she took Basil out for his evening walk, Cam changed out of her black tank top and shorts and into a pair of jeans and a clean white shirt. She was about to leave when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. The outfit was missing earrings.

If they were going to celebrate, she might as well lean into it. There might not be another chance.

There was a different bartender on duty tonight, and Penny Benjamin was nowhere to be seen. Cam had a sneaking suspicion that Maverick might have something to do with her absence.

She found Natasha with the boys near the bar. To her great relief, Hangman and Coyote had yet to arrive. Almost everyone else was there; this was the only true hang out spot the Navy had.

"No Fanboy tonight?" Cam asked Reuben.

Payback shook his head, grinning a little. "Nah, his girl came to see him so he cancelled on me."

"That's too bad." Bradley clapped him on the shoulder. Cam was unsurprised to see him wearing another iteration of his tropical shirt collection. "Care for a game of darts? Loser buys."

"Hope you brought your wallet, Rooster."

Natasha was off at the bar catching up with a girl she had recognized, leaving Cam alone as she got a beer and took a seat at a nearby table. But she found she wasn't lonely. Comfortable, even. Her focus danced around the building, taking in the scene.

"Don't tell me your date stood you up," a deep voice said.

A man her age took the other seat at the table with her. Dark curly hair, green eyes, quite a catch and apparently very interested in her.

Lucky for him, Cam was uninterested in paying for her own drinks tonight.

She grinned and took another sip of beer. "I came alone, actually. You?"

His lip turned up in a smirk as he nodded. "Good night for it. So, you live near here?"

You have no idea, she thought to herself. He was wearing his tan uniform, and the pins bore the rank of a junior-grade officer. If she had to guess, she would say Miramar was his first official assignment.

"You could say that. I hear all the Navy pilots hang out here, so I thought I would check it out for myself." She coyly turned her head to the side. "You wouldn't happen to be a Navy boy, would you?"

Indeed he was, and an arrogant one at that. He balanced his arm on the back of the chair, full of bravado. "That I am, honey. How about I grab you another drink, and then we can talk about–"

"Cameron! I was wondering where you were!" Bradley came up from behind and balanced an arm on her shoulder. She shot him a quick, murderous glare. "Who's this?"

"Dean," the guy said immediately.

"Hello, Dean," Bradley patronized. "You're in my seat."

Dean looked at her confused as he realized her earlier statement was a lie. "I thought you said–"

"I did," Cam seethed. Bradley's smug expression was unshakable. In a moment of déjà vu, she remembered him pulling a similar stunt in high school.

Without giving him a chance to say anything else, Bradley said, "Bye Dean, it was nice meeting you."

"Are you serious?" she said, gritting her teeth. Dean wandered back over the bar and immediately found a spot next to a blonde haired girl.

Bradley took a nonchalant sip of his beer. "What? Don't tell me you liked that guy."

"I'm trying to get free drinks here, you ass."

He grinned and grabbed her near-empty beer. She watched him walk up to the bar and a full minute later he set a fresh bottle down on the table in front of her. "Consider it done. And I'll bet you another I'm better company than that shithead."

She scoffed, mood easing the slightest bit. "That is yet to be determined."

"Well, Reuben is way better at darts than I thought so I need you to at least pretend to talk to me so he doesn't ask me for a rematch."

She laughed into her drink. "Fine. Give me a conversation topic, at least."

He thought about it. "Okay, and this is really important, Cameron."

"Go easy on me."

"Why is your dog named after an herb?"

"You had the opportunity to ask me any question and you picked that?"

"Whoa, wait, I could have asked you anything? I wanna take that back now."

She laughed and for a dangerous moment, it felt like the way things used to be. "Too late, Rooster. It's already been asked."

He took another swig of his beer. "This had better be good."

"I dog-proofed my entire apartment. I had one singular basil plant in a pot on the table and I thought it would be safe. As soon as I opened the door, he ran straight for the table and knocked it off onto the floor. The name fit."

"It's a good name," he agreed.

"My turn."

"Your turn?" he scoffed.

"You ask a question, I ask a question," she grinned. "Do you happen to own any shirts without palm trees on them?"

He placed a hand on his chest in mock offense. "Hey now, this is my good button down. For special occasions."

Cam met his eyes and she knew they were thinking the same thing. The memories were all Bradley had left of his dad. In all of the old photographs of Goose, he was either wearing Navy-issue coveralls or a Hawaiian shirt. And even now, Cam recognized the one Bradley had on tonight. It was the one she had given him for the last Christmas they had spent together.

She glanced over her shoulder. Reuben was now clear on the other side of the bar playing billiards with Fritz. "I think you're safe to leave, Rooster."

His expression fell and she almost wanted to take the words back. Still, he left and joined them at the table. Her eyes were trained on him, focusing intently and trying to figure out the feeling in her chest.

Eventually, she gave up and grabbed up her drink. The goal was to get to the other side of the bar without talking to Jake, but that was a lost cause.

"Berlin," he drawled. "You're looking nice tonight."

"Wish I could say the same to you." She flattened her lips into a thin line. "I think your jaw is a little swollen."

He laughed, and to her shock, it sounded genuine. "What do you say we call it a truce."

She raised a brow. "A truce?"

He extended a hand. "Truce, you ever heard of it?"

Placing her hand in his, she said with a smile, "You bring up Nikita Kasper again, and you're gonna wish I only punched you in the face."

With a quick wink, he told her, "Wouldn't dream of it."

As soon as she made it over to the pool table, Fritz said, "You feeling okay?"

"Yeah?"

"Then why in God's name were you smiling at Hangman?"

"Give me a little credit. I'm making amends."

Natasha smirked. "Cameron Mejia making amends? Never thought I'd see the day. You hold a grudge almost as well as Rooster."

"That's insulting, Nat."

Natasha leaned on a pool cue, cocking her head to the side. "If looks could kill, pretty boy would have had a hole in his head from Bradshaw."

Cam's expression soured. "He still acts like he's one of my brothers."

She tipped her head with a look of disbelief. "I don't think it's brotherly, Berlin."

"Are you saying he's–" she let out a snort of laughter "–jealous?"

She shrugged. "You two clearly have a history."

"Not that kind of history," Cam scoffed, quickly setting the record straight. Fritz, Reuben, and Bob were intently listening to the conversation now. "We were neighbors growing up. Long story short, after everything that happened with Maverick and the Naval Academy, we made the mutual decision to no longer speak."

Natasha gave her signature I know more than you smirk. "That's not the way he tells the story."

Her lips parted, surprised that he told the story at all.

Fritz immediately laughed at her expression. "Cat got your tongue, Berlin? I saw the way he was looking at you out on the tarmac. That yearning stare?" he said pointedly.

"Shit, I felt that from all the way inside the rec room," Reuben said, placing a theatrical hand on his chest.

"They were either gonna kiss each other or kill each other," Fritz laughed.

"What is with you guys?" Cam demanded, praying to God that Rooster wouldn't choose now to come back from the restroom. This was the last conversation he needed to overhear.

"You're both gonna get a pool cue shoved up your ass if you don't watch it," Natasha said. However, her eyes were still alight with laughter.

"Berlin?"

They all turned at the sound of this new voice. A familiar feeling washed over her with an elation at recognition. Her saving grace was tall with blonde hair and golden tanned skin. Miles Quinn hadn't changed a bit.

"Miles! You're kidding!" Cam laughed. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I got transferred two weeks ago. I thought you were out east?"

She shook her head. "Got called back to Top Gun."

"Top Gun, huh." He let out a low, impressed whistle. His expression brightened again." Fritz, my man! How's it going?"

Fritz extended a hand and they shook with mock formality. "Good as it can be."

"Flyin' with Berlin always keeps you on your toes," he winked.

"Does it ever," Fritz said, looking ready to say something even more incriminating on her behalf.

Taking the opportunity, Cam said, "Everyone, this is Miles. Miles, this is Payback, Phoenix, and Bob."

He took in the sight of all of them, grinning. "You must be the other recruits."

"That we are," Reuben said, sizing him up immediately. Cam almost rolled her eyes. "How do you know Berlin?"

"Originally, a friend of a friend at Berkeley introduced us when we were doing ROTC. Then I was stationed in Lemoore as a maintenance engineer. Happened to be that we were always crossing paths with each other on the carriers, which is how I also met Fritz."

"Maintenance, huh?" Reuben remarked, unimpressed. "Not a pilot."

"No, could never fly them as well as I could fix them," he grinned, apparently not catching the dig.

Reuben leaned over and said something to Fritz. Cam didn't catch the first part, but she clearly heard Fritz snicker and say, "She's got a history with him, alright."

Her eye twitched. Someday, she was going to kill him for his constant commentary.

Reuben let out a low whistle and Cam rolled her eyes, grabbing Miles by the forearm and guiding him back up towards the bar. "Let's go talk somewhere else."



𓄼 𓄹



𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 he came back to the group at the billiards table, Cam was gone. He hated how his heart sank, and as he scanned the bar for where she could have gone, the floor gave way.

"What's she doin' with that guy?" He asked. A lousy attempt at sounding unconcerned; Natasha knew him too well to not see through his bullshit.

Natasha gave him a vaguely-irritated side-eye. "Probably talkin' about who's place they wanna go back to."

His eyes widened. "What?"

She smacked him in the chest. "Lighten up, Bradshaw. Cam's a big girl, she doesn't need you boys hanging off of her all night. You already scared off that other guy."

In the ambient light of the bar, it looked like Cam had a halo around her head of curly hair. It was loose and barely pulled back from her face, so unlike he had seen it for the past week. The permanent frown was gone, and she looked so much like herself again.

And the guy she was talking to. Bleach blonde hair, tan skin, a Californian surfer archetype. Whatever he was saying was making Cam laugh really hard.

With a pang, he realized he wanted that to be him. He wanted to be the one making her laugh. He wanted to be the one taking her home tonight. But after what he had done, no matter how many years ago it was, he had damn near made certain that Cameron Mejia would never see him in a positive light again. Even the small progress he had made was a million miles away from friendship, let alone anything else.

"So, are we friends with Miles?" Reuben asked Fritz.

"Miles?" Bradley repeated.

"Blondie," Reuben said, gesturing over his shoulder. "Stole our Berlin from us."

Fritz shrugged, raking a hand through his dark hair as he lined up another shot on the billiards table. For being a WSO, he was a terrible shot with a pool cue. "He's alright, but he's about as exciting as a maintenance engineer sounds." He glanced apprehensively up at Phoenix. "Cam's gonna kill me if I say anything else."

"Since when is this a we thing, anyway?" Natasha said, asking the same question Bradley wanted to. She leaned with her arm resting on the back of a chair.

"We're all a team now, right?" Reuben said, crossing his arm over his chest. "Gotta look out for each other."

Bob took his turn, hitting an impressive two balls into the corner pockets. "This is barely a team, dude. Maverick's pulling us apart."

"Like a banana peel," Fritz nodded sagely.

"Banana peel?" Natasha repeated with disbelief.

He stood up from the table, slightly annoyed. With a huff, he said, "Yeah, Phoenix. Banana peel, taffy, velcro–" he snapped his fingers, trying to come up with more.

"String cheese," Bob supplied.

"Yes!" Fritz exclaimed. "I like the way you think."

"We're not exactly bonding," Bradley remarked, taking another drink off his bottle of beer. "Hangman's managed to split us in half."

Natasha followed his gaze. Sure enough, Jake was near the dartboard chatting up Halo. Omaha, Coyote, and Yale were also close by. Even in a public bar, you couldn't pay them all to breathe the same air.

As much as he had a vendetta against Maverick, Bradley didn't envy the task he had ahead of him.



━━ 𓄼 𓄹 ━━





























a/n mav take down! if there was any doubt about who the dream team is, I think that's now fully resolved 👀

the bar scene was way more troublesome than I originally anticipated. this cast of characters is a beast to try and do justice, so I hope I did at least okay! we're starting to see the development of some side character bonding which I LOVE, including the fact that everyone is slowly becoming involved in the Berlin&Rooster situation :)

up next we're gonna start getting into the route training scenes, which means more drama between rooster and hangman!!

a bonus meme, for your consideration:



--nat <3