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1)
One minute Goose is with his wife and son, watching his little Brad-Brad fly the model airplane Mav gave the tyke on Bradley’s second birthday. The next, Goose finds himself floating somewhere in the Indian Ocean with absolute chaos unfolding all around him.
“Talk to me, Goose.”
Mav?
Goose floats around the jets, finding his best friend a few seconds later. Though, he always has had a Sixth Sense when it comes to Maverick.
“Talk to me, Goose.” Mav’s voice is even more desperate the second time.
Just what the hell does he think Goose can do here exactly? He’s dead, deader than dead even. All he can ever do is watch now, regardless of how badly he wishes otherwise.
A second later, Goose realizes who is in the other jet flying frantically to escape the bogeys on its ass. Mister Makes No Mistakes, Ice Cold himself is flying positively rattled now. Nothing like how Ice flew when Goose was alive, that’s for sure.
What the hell happened to these two?
His eyes then dart to his best friend. Well, if Mav wants him to talk, then, fuck it, he’s going to get talked to then! Because this is absolute bullshit!
“Maverick, what the hell are you doing, man?” Goose yells out the right side of the cockpit as he floats in sync with the speeding F-14. “Get back in there and help!” Like Mav would any other time, for anyone. “MAVERICK MITCHELL, YOU LISTEN TO ME, GODDAMN IT!”
The second Mav’s jet veers hard, finally reengaging, Goose’s eyes bug out.
“Shit!” He blinks a few times. “Mav, can you hear me?!”
“I can’t get him off my tail!” yells Ice, his voice entering the fray then.
“Ice, I’ve got your MiG dead ahead,” Mav replies, sounding steadier than before. “I’ve got your MiG dead ahead.”
Goose glances back, recognizing Mav has the MiG right where he wants him.
“Good tone. I’ve got good tone.” Mav’s then voice turns even more adrenaline-fueled. “I’ve got tone! I’ve got tone! Firing!”
The missile zooms right through Goose, which makes him glare mildly at Mav for it. However, his eyes trail after the missle before watching the MiG explode and fall crashing to the ocean below.
“Good one, Mav. Now, keep up with it, buddy! You got this!” Goose calls out.
“I see them. I see them. I’m gonna take them down the left side.”
“Smart move, man. Let them come to you.” Now, this is more like the Maverick he knows.
At the sounds of guns firing, he glances back where Ice is flying for all he has trying to evade the shots.
“Coming in, Ice. I’m coming in,” Mav declares, his jet quickly moving to cover Ice’s. “I’ve got two MiGs dead ahead.”
“Really wish you wouldn’t use that word anymore, man,” Goose sighs heavily. “Speaking as, you know, a dead person, sort of a sore subject, you know, buddy?”
“I got him, Mav,” Ice calls out, though. “One MiG passing between us.”
Goose growls as he shimmers out for a brief moment as the MiG’s wing clips him. He really hates that feeling.
“Banking left. Banking left,” Mav says, his plane gracefully doing so a moment later. “There he is. Get him, Ice. Get him!”
A low chuckle leaves Goose’s lips. “Control yourself there, buddy.”
“Okay, you guys, I’m coming in!” Ice declares, sounding much more like himself again as well, much to Goose’s satisfaction.
“There we go, you two. Now, come on. Keep working together.”
“I can’t leave Ice.”
Goose feels a chill rush down his spine at that, which, okay, who knew ghosts or whatever he is can feel that? A brief flash of something—Mav holding his body maybe—appear then before it shimmers away.
“Oh, Mav . . .”
God, he never wants to the hug man more than right then.
“Mav, buddy, hey, come on. It’s okay. You got this. You got this, Maverick. You do.”
“I’m not leaving my wingman,” Mav declares fiercely, as if he is willing the universe to know how he will not lose Ice. Not like this. That he’ll sacrifice himself if he has to just to save the blond.
“I’m on his tail. I’m on his tail. I’m going for it,” Ice says next.
Goose concurs. Ice has a very good shot from his position.
“I’m going for it. I’m going for the shot right now.”
“So go for it, dipshit!” Goose yells, cursing the damn blond to hell for waiting so damn long.
“Good tone. I’m taking the shot.”
“Are you kidding me, Kazansky? Take the damn shot already!” Dear Lord, this should have already been done by now, having moved onto the next MiG. Seriously? And this guy is considered the best? At least Maverick never takes this long!
“Fire!”
When the missile hit its target, exploding upon impact, Goose nods slightly.
“Bingo!”
“Yeah, yeah, act like you’ve taken a shot before, Ice,” Goose scoffs, turning away.
“Ice, watch out. There’s a MiG to your right,” Mav states, ending the celebratory cheer short. “He’s firing!”
Goose’s eyes widen as he watches the weapons spray Ice’s F-14.
“I’m hit! I’m hit!”
Goose hates this feeling of utter helplessness. Is he here to help Mav or watch them join him?
“I’m shutting it down. I’m shutting it down,” Ice yells out, his right engine smoking badly.
“Coming in, Ice. Coming in,” Mav’s steady voice announces, the jet maneuvering gracefully. “Ice, that bogey’s still behind you. I’m maneuvering for a shot.”
“Stay with him, Mav, stay with him!”
Goose’s head tilts slightly as something occurs to him, eyes narrowing. Wait a minute . . .
“Take the shot! Nail him! Nail him!” Ice urges.
“Shit.” Absolute worry is in Mav’s voice. “Ice, I can’t get a tone.”
“Shoot, Maverick! I can’t get him off my tail.”
More shots then zoom past as the MiG fires on Ice again.
“Maverick, we’re hit! We’re hit again!” Ice’s voice shakes just a hint so Goose nearly misses it.
“Ice, on the count of three, break hard right. Three, two, one. Break right!”
Goose let out a needless exhale, then watches as Mav fires without tone.
“Nice try, bud. You’ll get them next time,” he says with a knowing nod to his best friend.
“I got him. I got him. Here comes the shot.”
“Scratch three! He-haw! That’s how we do it, Mav! There you go!”
“Maverick, move! There’s a MiG on your tail!” Ice’s voice interrupts sharply. “There’s a MiG on your tail!”
“So defend him, blondie!” Goose shouts, wishing he could smack Ice in the back of the head. Why the hell is Mav doing all the work here?
“We’ve got a problem here. We only have one missile left.”
Because of course they do.
“Shit!”
“Goddamn it, Ice! Do something!” He can’t believe he ever told Mav to shoot his shot with the blond once before. What was he thinking back then?
“I’m bringing him in closer, Merlin.”
Goose recognizes the maneuver instantly. “There we go, Mav. There we go.”
“I’m gonna hit the brakes, he’ll fly right by.” Maverick then yells, “Now!”
The second the nose pitches up, he nods in absolute appreciation of the skill it takes to do that.
“I got a good lock. Firing.”
“Hell yeah, Mav!” he cheers as the MiG burst into flames.
“Scratch four!”
Goose chuckles, shaking his head. Goddamn it. If he still were alive, he’s positive he’d be trying to come down from that high for days after this.
“Mustang, this is Maverick requesting flyby.”
Yep, some things never change. Goose knows he’ll join him this time like always.
His smile widens as he hears Mav’s happy laughter, having missed it. He’s missed flying with Mav.
When he catches Ice’s plane fly side-by-side with Mav’s, Goose shakes his head.
“Well, well, look at you, Mav. Caught your blond after all.” He then sighs happily. “Keep him safe for me, Iceman.” He shimmers away a moment later.
2)
Help me, Goose.
The words aren’t spoken this time, but Goose feels the pull to go nonetheless. The only issue is he's already there. Hasn’t left his son’s side since the infamous MiG incident.
He's already there with his now twelve-year-old boy who is silently holding Mav’s hand. Neither has moved since the nurse shut off the monitor to stop the flatline tone.
“Honey?”
Goose’s head whips to his side. He instantly wraps his wife up in his arms, pausing when he feels her, actually feels her. His eyes then dart back to the version of his wife in the hospital bed.
Oh.
Carole only smiles brightly through watery eyes, though.
“It’s okay, honey.” Her eyes lift to glance towards the door as if she knows what’s next.
Moments later Iceman walks in, still in his filthy flight suit. He only falters for a brief second at the sight before him before he pushes through and immediately heads to the devastated Maverick and Bradley. With no further hesitation on his part, he pulls Maverick into his chest and does the same with the numb twelve-year-old who in turn instantly wraps Ice up in a fierce embrace.
“Tom has our boys now.” She hugs Goose from behind with a gentle sigh as they stare at the trio. “He’ll keep them safe for us.”
Goose merely nods.
“Take me to bed, stud, or lose me forever,” murmurs his wife, the gentle laughter on her lips.
“Show me the way home, honey.” They both shimmer from the room moments later.
3)
“ . . . Goose . . .”
The RIO appears instantly, finding himself this time surrounded by fiery scrap metal. It takes him a moment to find Maverick this time as several decades have clearly passed. However, he slows when he notices the figure already there at Mav’s side.
“Bradshaw,” asserts the man from an old photo Goose has only seen once during a particularly rough night for his best friend.
“Sir?” Could this really be Mav’s father, the infamous Duke Mitchell, standing before him?
“Yes, Bradshaw. It’s really me.” The man’s somber green eyes then glance back to his unconscious fifty-seven-year-old son.
“Shit! What happened?” Goose feels guilty, knowing he felt the familiar tug to come sooner that he ignored in favor of spending more time with Bradley. He kneels in the dirt, reaching for Mav before he stops himself with a heavy sigh.
Right. His hand would just go through him. Stupid.
Duke snorts. “What do you think happened, son? Damn boy thought he could play chicken with the Fates again.”
“Is he . . .?”
Mav’s father shakes his head sharply. “Just knocked out as far as I can tell.”
Goose nods. “Well, he should wake up pretty soon if history—”
“Goose, please . . .”
A second later, the RIO finds himself yanked from the crash site and into an unfamiliar study in someone’s house. It takes him a second to reorient himself before he sees the thirty-three year-older version of Iceman Kazansky standing in front of him, hand still gripping something with a terrified look on his face.
“Give me more time with him,” Ice whispers before he collapses back into the wing back armchair.
“I’ve already given you thirty-three years, Kazansky,” Goose scoffs, shaking his head before he sighs. His head then tilts as he notices Ice hasn’t stopped staring directly at him. “Can you see me?” He waves his hand in front of Ice’s face, but the man doesn’t react. But there is something there that feels different this time. Something that wasn’t there last time. He just can’t put his finger on it.
“Sir? Lieutenant Bradshaw is here to see you,” a voice says from the intercom. “Should I let him inside?”
“No. Send him away, Grace. Tell him we’ll talk later,” Ice replies, swallowing the lump that’s clearly formed in his throat.
“He deserves to know!” yells Goose, feeling outraged on his son’s behalf. The two knuckleheads may have still been fighting, but he knows they’ll eventually stop being stubborn idiots.
“Don’t take Maverick. Please . . . Take me instead,” Ice pleads in the tragically silent study. “Take me instead, not him. Not Pete. Bradley needs him. I’ll do whatever you need. Just please let him be okay. Let him be okay this time.”
His phone rings hauntingly in Ice’s hands a second later.
“Kazansky.”
Goose can discern the exact moment Ice is told Mav has been found alive, that he’ll be okay. He can see it in the man’s ice blue eyes. He watches the relief flood the older man’s face before he hangs up without another word.
“Thank you.”
Goose scoffs, shaking his head again. “Want to thank us? Tell him how you feel, coward.” A second later, he shimmers away from the study.
4)
The next time Goose appears its outside of an unfamiliar bar on a beach. He turns to his side, smiling at his wife who has joined him this time. However, his smile falters when he sees Maverick staring through the glass into the bar.
“Honey?” whispers Carole, following Mav’s gaze.
Goose leans slightly to her side before his eyes widen.
Bradley. Their sweet Bradley’s playing the piano. Playing their song . . .
“Well, go on, Mav,” he scoffs after a minute to his best friend, whom he knows can’t hear them in the slightest. “Go talk to our boy.”
“Hang on. Who’s that?” his wife asks a moment later, pointing to a woman staring at Mav from behind the bar.
Goose laughs in surprise. Now there’s a face he hasn’t seen in decades. “Shit. I think that’s Penny Benjamin, dear.”
“What?” Carole’s smile widens as she recognizes the name. “Oh, I think you’re right.”
“I’m always right,” he snorts, chuckling when she smacks his arm with an eye roll.
“You don’t think . . .”
“I mean, it’s Mav.” So, chances are high that he has rekindled that relationship more than a few times over the years. There has only ever been two people who can keep Mav’s attention. Goose knows this. Anyone who has ever loved Mav knows this poorly kept secret. One is blond . . . and the other is a certain admiral’s daughter.
“Oh, look at that,” Carole cries softly, pressing a hand to her chest. “She still cares for him.”
“I thought you were Team Ice here,” he reminds with a sly smirk. They’ve discussed this topic numerous times over the years. Duke even joining in occasionally. Two in favor of Ice, one not.
She laughs, glancing back. “No, I’m Team Maverick, dear. Either would make him happy. She holds his heart, but Tom, he holds Mav’s soul.”
Goose shakes his head, glancing back at his son, though. Yeah, he’s not getting back into the middle of the IceMav bullshit again. It was painful to watch the first time. “Our boy’s wearing my shirts.”
“As if you haven’t seen that before,” she laughs again.
“I know, but . . . look at him. He looks happy.” Goose’s eyes then trail back to Mav. “You could have that happiness, too, you know, old friend.”
“He will,” replies Carole, sliding a hand around her husband’s waist. “When he’s ready.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Goose sighs loudly. His eyes then narrow when he notices a man in service khakis near the pool table watching Bradley more intently than anyone else is. “Wonder what that’s all about,” he says quietly.
“Oh, that’s Jake,” she answers offhandedly, following his look.
“Jake?” How come he didn’t know about this Jake?
She nods. “A fellow pilot. Sounds like they’re going to be on the same mission together.” She shrugs. “They have this . . . thing between them.”
“Thing? As in . . .?”
“Like Pete and Tom.”
“Oh, no.” Not two of them.
“Yeah. It’s sort of adorable, honey.”
“Our future son-in-law is going to be him?” he asks pointing towards the tall, green-eyed man that Goose swears could be Ice and Mav’s kid.
“Well, if they get their heads out of their asses, probably.”
Goose sighs. “Bradley couldn’t take after me?”
She points back at their son playing the piano. “He does. See? He’s serenading his crush with our song.” She then laughs again. “The song before this that Jake played, . . . ‘Slow Ride.”
“No!” He throws his head back and full belly laughs. “Holy shit. Seriously?” Oh, Bradley . . .
“I think they’re going to be good for one another. They’re wiser this time around.”
“Wiser?” He tilts his head. “Just how long have you been here this time?”
“To see the start of their messy relationship, the break-up that wasn’t a break-up, and now this—the reunion. I think once they stop pulling on the other’s pigtails, they’ll figure it out.”
He shakes his head. “Bradley likes him, though?”
“He does. Of course our boy is taking after his godfather and pretending he doesn’t.”
“Of course he is.” Goose then sighs, turning back to Mav to see the horror sweep across his face. Oh, buddy. “Mav, you have to let go of that. Let go of my death.” He doesn’t need confirmation of what his best friend is seeing. He can see it all over the man’s face. “It wasn’t your fault. Our boy knows that. He doesn’t blame you.”
“No,” his wife sighs heavily. “It’s not that, Nick. I asked Maverick to make sure our son didn’t fly, didn’t go to the Academy. I didn’t want him to join us so early.”
His eyes close instantly. He can understand it, though. He can. However, he can also understand their boy’s side of things.
“I was wrong,” she admits quietly.
“He still is a pilot, honey. He just had to take the long way around to do it.”
“But he blames Pete for it because of me.”
Goose shakes his head, though. “I think Mav didn’t want him to fly either, dear. We were all he has left. Remember? And you know how much he took after Bradley. It’d kill him as much as it’d have killed us to lose our boy. They’ll work it, though. Eventually.”
“I hope so.”
She then presses a kiss against Mav’s cheek . . . or as close to it as she can.
Maverick shakes his head, seemingly coming back to himself before he stumbles back.
Goose sighs, shimmering away once more with his wife.
5)
The next time he reappears, it’s in Fort Rosecrans. He glances to his left, thankful to see Carole there at his side. His eyes then take in the somber scene. It’s the sobbing that gains his attention at once. He glances down, finding Mav kneeling in dirt and grass in his dress blues sobbing against the white marble headstone.
It tells him everything he needs to know.
“Oh, Mav,” he whispers, reaching out and sighing when his hand goes through Mav’s shoulder.
They’re alone in the graveyard.
Everyone else has left long ago, leaving the sobbing man alone.
“Maverick?” murmurs a hoarse voice off to Goose’s right.
Goose glances towards the sound, sighing when he sees Ice.
“Hello, Tom,” whispers Carole, her unnecessary breath catching just slightly.
“Carole?” The icy blues then dart to her side. “Goose?”
“Hey, Ice,” he replies lightly, turning back to his heartbroken best friend, his brother.
When Ice steps forward seemingly to comfort Mav, Goose reaches out to stop him, knowing how the older man will undoubtedly react being freshly cross over now.
“Maverick, I’m here,” Ice calmly states, though. For a split second, his hand seems to rest on Mav’s shoulder, causing the sobbing man to startle and scramble back in obvious confusion.
“Ice?” Mav’s green eyes are darting around wildly.
“How did you do that?” demands Goose, seemingly shocked that it’s worked. He’s tried it for decades never having any success with it.
Ice, however, doesn’t answer. Instead, he kneels beside his wingman of thirty plus years.
“You’re not alone,” he declares in that familiar way of his as if he’s God and commands it to be true. He’s saying the words Goose knows Mav needs to hear now. The same words Goose himself has said over the years during the shitty moments he’s witnessed. “I’m here, Mitchell, and I’m not leaving you.” His hand reaches back to his wingman’s shoulder. It doesn’t connect this time. “I’m right here, Mav. I’m right here with you.”
“I can’t do this . . . I can’t . . . I can’t do this without you.”
“Of course you can,” Ice replies, as if they’re having a conversation. “Because I haven’t left you yet. Mission’s not finished, Captain Mitchell. And I never leave my wingman behind during a mission. Do I?” He smiles somberly, his eyes moving slowly over Mav who is sitting with his back pressed against Ice’s headstone. “I’m here, Maverick. You know I am. You know I haven’t left you. That I’d never leave you.”
“I can’t bury Bradley, too. I can’t, Ice. I can’t bury . . . not our boy. God, not him.”
“You’ll find a way, Maverick. You always do.”
“I don’t know how this time. It hurts too . . . I can’t . . .”
Ice laughs quietly, a small, sad smile on his lips. “They called me your guardian angel for years. Do you truly believe I would stop once I died, you fool?”
Goose feels Carole tuck against him as she seeks him out for comfort as they watch the two.
“What do I do, Ice?”
“You teach our boy how to survive. You teach them all how to survive. You be the Maverick I know and love, my beautiful menace. You can do this. I know you can. It’s why I chose you. Because you are the only one who can. The only one who can pull off this mission.”
“I can’t lose him.”
“You won’t.”
“Why won’t they send me instead? I have nothing left. Nothing, Ice. All of you are . . . are gone, and I’m stuck here. He doesn’t want to listen to me. I ruined it. Ruined us. Like I always do. Like I always will. I . . . why am I always the one left behind?”
“Oh, Maverick,” murmurs Ice.
Goose hangs his head.
“We never left you. We’re right here.”
“I’m so tired, Tom. So fucking tired.”
“I know you are.” He then settles back against his headstone beside Maverick, their sides not quite touching but close enough. “Rest awhile. We’ll watch over you. As we always will, Mav.”
Goose inhales sharply, unsure how else to react shocked than that. It’s as if Maverick can hear Ice, knows he’s there. But that’s not possible. If it were, then Bradley would know they were there with him as well, and he knows their boy does not really believe it.
“They’re soulmates,” Carole whispers into Goose’s shoulder. “That’s why he can hear him. I’d hear you sometimes, too,” she reveals. “If I really listened close.”
”It’s fucking cold,” Mav complains with a huff as he pulls his jacket around him closer.
“You like the cold,” Ice points out with a soft laugh.
“No, I love you,” he replies tiredly, leaning back against the headstone.
Carole sniffles, which causes Goose to pull her closer. It’s too late for these words. They all know it, but at least they’ve now been said.
“And I you, menace of mine,” Ice states, tilting his head to try to kiss Mav’s head. “Now, rest. We have you, Mav.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“I’m not letting go, Ice. I know . . . know you want me to but . . . I can’t. I’m sorry, but that’s one I can’t follow.”
Ice smiles, though, shaking his head. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”
“You’re not mad?”
“You never listen to me. Why would you start now, brat?”
“I always listen to you. Only you. But I . . . I can’t do that this time. If I let go, then . . . I can’t, not completely.”
“Rest, Maverick,” he chides instead. “Rest.”
“I love you,” Mav admits a moment later. “I’m sorry I never said it.”
Ice sighs with a pained look. “I love you, too. Maybe in another . . . place we said it when there was still time. Now, rest. Or I’ll make you really cold, Maverick Mitchell.”
Mav chuckles, a heartbroken smile gracing his lips. However, he closes his eyes and listens.
Goose and Carole hang their heads further solemnly.
They fade away moments later.
+1
“I’m sorry, Goose.”
The words are spoken so soft, Goose nearly misses it when he appears outside of a F-14. They’re flying again. He realizes with a start that Bradley is seated behind Maverick in his old seat.
This must be the Mission he’s heard a bit about, he decides.
He hears the telltale signs of a missile lock.
“No!” Not both of them. He doesn’t want to see either of them yet. Not until they live happy, healthy, long lives. Until they have their second chance at being a family.
Goose watches Ice then take in the scene next to him.
“Stay with them, Bradshaw!” Ice barks before he zooms off to the Bandit locked onto the jet.
“It’s okay, Bradley. It’s okay, sweetie,” whispers Carole to their son who is calling Mav’s name frantically, terrified as the realization settles into his gut.
Unable to stop himself, Goose reaches out to Mav, needing him to know he’s forgiven. That this isn’t his fault. That he knows Mav has done his best to protect their son. That Mav has always done his absolutely best.
At the sound of a missile firing behind them, Goose closes his eyes. He hears the explosion ripple across the sky . . . then waits . . . and waits another moment before he opens his eyes, surprisingly finding Bradley and Mav alive and intact. What the—?
A F-18 flies through the dark plume of fiery smoke that once was the bandit bent on trying to blow up Bradley and Maverick.
“What . . . how?”
Goose blinks several times. It’s a moment later before he sees Ice returning, shaking his head rapidly as if something unpleasant just happened.
“What did you do?”
“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen,” a male voice calls out with a Texas accent, though. “This is your . . . savior speaking. Please fasten your seatbelts. Return your tray tables to their locked and upright positions and prepare for landing.”
His eyes dart back to the F-18.
“Jake!” Carole laughs before turning to Ice. “How?”
“Honestly, I haven’t a clue,” Ice answers with a relieved smile on his face when he sees Mav and Bradley interacting with this Jake in the other aircraft. “Just . . . a hunch.”
“Kazansky?” Goose starts very slowly, completely floored. Because if what he thinks just happened . . . happened, then . . .
“Yes?”
“Did you just . . . possess that kid somehow?”
“ . . . possibly? I don’t . . . maybe?” Ice shrugs, lost as Goose is.
His mouth drops in response. “What?!” In thirty-three years he hasn’t been able to . . . what?!
“I don’t know how to explain it, Bradshaw,” Ice admits. “One minute I saw Mav . . . then the next I was over there in the cockpit, firing with the kid.”
Carole, however, starts laughing, staring at them like they’re absolute idiots.
“What?”
“It’s soul bonds, Nick.” Her smile widens. “That’s what Tom used. Their soul bonds.”
Goose frowns. “I thought he was Mav’s soulmate!”
“No, think about it, honey. Bradley cares for Jake, who in turn absolutely loves Bradley. Look.” She points towards their son. It takes a second before he sees the glimmer of something that goes from the backseat of the F-14 to the solo seat of the F-18.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Goose chuckles, deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth. His boy and his blood brother are alive. That’s all that matters. “This is our future son-in-law?” he asks motioning towards Jake. “Him?”
“He grows on you after a while,” Carole and Ice both say with knowing smiles.
“If you say so.”
Three hours later, Maverick stands at the back of the carrier, staring out. He’s still wearing his dirty flight suit.
Goose watches him with mild interest, ignoring Ice who is rolling his eyes at his antics as he remains on Mav’s left side where he’s been since he’s joined the Ghost Forces.
Mav’s eyes are closed, and he’s drawing in slow, even breaths.
Steeling himself up for something.
“Talk to me, Goose.”
Lights. Camera. Action.
“Hey, how ya doin’, buddy?!” Goose yells back as loudly and as obnoxiously as he can, willing himself to be heard one way or another. Because if Kazansky can do it, so can Goose.
The second Maverick leaps up, seemingly his soul bursting out of his body at the fright as well, Goose bursts out laughing in shock.
Mav heard him!
“Holy shit!” he points at Mav who is clutching his chest and gasping. “Ice, did you see that?”
Ice, however, reaches out, which Goose follows suit. The poor guy goes through their hands, though, before he slams down hard onto the deck.
Ice glares fiercely at Goose in response.
“Okay, in my defense,” he starts to say meekly “I didn’t think—”
“—of that we can agree,” grumbles Ice, shaking his head before he glances around to come up with a plan. No one's around, however.
Though, they both can see Mav is still breathing. Just . . . passed out. Which . . . understandable considering.
“Oh, no. What did you two do?” Carole sighs a moment later, glancing from the unconscious Maverick to her husband and Ice.
“He did it!” the two instantly exclaim, pointing at the other.