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Retirement suited Maverick well.
After the suicide mission and his second crash in a month—and a long conversation with Rooster after the fact—Maverick decided to formally retire from the US Navy. He’d been offered another promotion, but it wasn’t the first time that he’d turned one down. He’d more than earned a peaceful retirement.
And his back was starting to kill him. He wasn’t as young as he used to be, even if he was in better shape than most people his age.
But Maverick was happy with his choice. He bought a nice little home in Fightertown after Rooster transferred to North Island. It was only a five-minute drive from the house that the newlyweds—Rooster and Phoenix, who had been secretly dating the whole mission and the four years before it—bought once Phoenix’s transfer was also confirmed for North Island.
It was moments like their wedding that reminded Maverick that he made the right choice. No worries about coordinating deployments and missions around important dates. No need to rush off as soon as everything wrapped up. He could just sit and soak in the moment, happy tears in his eyes as he watched Rooster and Phoenix share their first dance as a married couple.
And three years after their wedding, they were about to add another Bradshaw to the nest.
They hadn’t told anyone that they were trying, and Maverick didn’t want to ask—Phoenix was a damn good pilot with a remarkable career and a pregnancy would ground her for a year, even potentially closer to two. But after her last promotion and transition into more paperwork than flying, they made the choice to add to their nest.
Maverick cried when he found out. And he was not ashamed of the fact.
He stood in his garage, walking around the classic car that he’d bought off an auction to occupy his time. It was a sunny afternoon, but hot, and he had the fan running on high. The radio played some eighty’s tunes as Maverick cleaned another part of the engine that he’d taken apart the day before.
His phone rang, pulling Maverick out of his focus. Setting down the rag and part, Maverick walked over to the radio to turn it down and reached over for his phone. He checked the caller ID and momentarily froze when he saw who was calling him.
It was Phoenix.
And in a second, Maverick went from casual to laser focused. Phoenix was supposed to be at home, resting through the last few weeks of her pregnancy. Rooster and Maverick had both suggested that Maverick stay with her during the day, just in case she needed help with anything, but Phoenix shot down their offer immediately.
She was pregnant. She was not dainty. And she could take care of herself.
“Hey, Nat, what’d you need?” Maverick answered the call, getting straight to the point. He didn’t want to assume anything, especially because he knew that Phoenix was an exceptionally tough person, but he was still a little on edge.
“Hey, Mav,” Phoenix stated, her voice oddly small.
“Everything alright?”
“Um,” Phoenix grunted, her voice straining slightly. “I, uh, I think I might be in labor.”
“What?” Maverick breathed out, nearly dropping the phone. “Where are you?”
“At home. I didn’t think that should drive myself to the hospital because I’m—ah—in a little bit of pain.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Maverick assured her, already running around the garage.
He flipped off the fan and radio, cleaned up the oil and grease, rushed inside to thoroughly clean his hands and arms of any potential chemicals or residues that pregnant women should avoid, and grabbed the keys to the Kawasaki.
“What’re your symptoms? Where’s Bradley?”
“Well, uh, my water broke,” Phoenix replied nonchalantly, causing Maverick to drop his keys. He let out a curse and bent down to pick them up. “And Brad’s not picking up his phone. I think that he might be flying or in a briefing or something.”
Phoenix let out another grunt and Maverick could hear the clear pain in her tone. It only made him move faster, flying around like he was strapped into his Tomcat again. He quickly locked up his house and ran over to his bike.
“I’ll be there in five minutes. Just breathe and relax.”
“Thanks, Mav,” Phoenix replied softly, her voice lacking its usual confidence.
“I’m on my way, kid. It’s going to be alright.”
He definitely broke more than one traffic law in his sprint to the Bradshaw family home, but he was there in one piece and that was what mattered. Parking in the garage, which Phoenix must have left open for him, Maverick ran inside the house at breakneck speed and nearly tripped up the two stairs because of his rush.
Phoenix stood in the kitchen, her forearms resting on the cool countertop and her forehead just below them. Luckily, the go bag was already packed and sitting on the countertop. Rooster in his soon-to-be-father freak out—that was what Hangman called it, anyways—had packed it as soon as Phoenix entered her third trimester.
“Hey, Mav,” she greeted him quietly, picking her head up slowly.
“Did you reach Bradley yet?” Maverick asked her urgently, grabbing the go bag and pulling it up onto his shoulder.
“No. I left a voicemail and texted him, but he hasn’t called me back.” Phoenix grunted, pushing herself to stand up straighter. “But the baby is early.”
Maverick could see the subtle worry, the underlying fear, in Phoenix’s eyes as she rested her hand on her bump. And Maverick didn’t know much about babies, admittedly, but he knew that her due date was somewhere around four weeks away. It was circled prominently on every calendar in his house. And that felt just a little too early for him to feel comfortable, so he couldn’t imagine how Phoenix was feeling.
“It’s going to be alright. Let’s get you to the hospital. I’ll worry about getting in touch with Rooster. You just focus on yourself.”
Maverick backed the family car that they bought in preparation for the baby’s arrival—though Phoenix outwardly refused to drive a minivan—and hopped out to help Phoenix into the car. She seemed too shocked at the change in her day’s planned events to fight his help this time.
“I called the hospital. They said that they’d have a room for me when we get there,” Phoenix mumbled out as Maverick jumped into the driver’s seat.
“We’ll be there soon,” he reassured her, starting the car. “Did you call your parents?”
“They’re trying to catch an earlier flight,” Phoenix replied softly, her hands settling on her bump. “Probably won’t be here until tomorrow, though.”
“That’s alright. Whatever you need, you let me know,” Maverick told her, pulling out onto the street and heading for the hospital. “Just focus on your breathing.”
Maverick tried to call Rooster again, but it went to voicemail, so he quickly changed course. Bob was supposed to be in town and Maverick knew Rooster well enough to know that as soon as he found out about Phoenix going into labor early, logic was going to fly out the window. He wouldn’t think, he would just do, and Maverick needed to get him to the hospital in one piece.
“Hey, Mav, what’s up?” Bob greeted him, picking up on the second ring.
“Where are you?”
“Out with Jake. Why? What do you need?”
“Thanks for cutting into our date, old man,” came Hangman’s haughty reply.
“Phoenix is in labor. I’m taking her to the hospital,” Maverick informed them, like he was handing out orders at a mission briefing. “Rooster isn’t picking up. We think he’s in the air over at TOP GUN. I’m going to call the base to get him out of there. I need you to be there to drive him to the hospital because I don’t want him to—”
“—Panic and crash his car?” Bob finished for Maverick.
“Have a stress breakdown and spin out?” Hangman suggested as well.
“All of the above.”
“We’re on it.”
“Thank you. Sorry about ruining your date.”
“It’s fine,” Bob assured Maverick, though he could hear Hangman huff in the background.
“How is it that we’re the ones getting cockblocked when its Bradshaw’s baby?”
“And this is why you’re not godfather,” Bob replied with an exasperated sigh.
“That was a biased decision, and you know it. But tell Phoenix that we expect this kid to be named after at least one of us because of this shit,” Hangman joked, causing Maverick to shake his head at the notorious aviator.
“No child of mine will ever be named after you, Bagman,” Phoenix vowed, having overheard the conversation.
“We’re heading out now. We’ll call you when we have Rooster,” Bob cut in before Hangman could piss off Phoenix.
“Thanks, Bob.”
Maverick quickly hung up the phone and scrolled through his contacts. He pressed on a contact that he promised to only use in the utmost emergency situations at the risk of being blocked for now and forever. Phoenix let out a whimper in the seat beside him, working through another contraction. She gripped the handle above her and buried her face into her arm.
“Pick up, pick up, please pick up,” Maverick muttered to himself.
“Can I ask why you’re calling me in the middle of the workday, Maverick?” came Beau Simpson’s annoyed question.
“I need a favor, Cyclone,” Maverick replied, glancing worriedly at Phoenix as he spoke.
“Of what nature?”
“I’m with Phoenix right now and she’s gone into labor. Rooster isn’t picking up his phone and we assume that he’s in the air or somewhere on base. And I’d really appreciate it if you could find him and dismiss him for the day so that he doesn’t miss the birth of his child.”
“I’ll have him to you as soon as I can,” Cyclone agreed after a beat of silence. Maverick let out a relieved sigh.
“Bob and Hangman will be arriving to base to pick him up. I don’t really trust him to drive with this information running around in his head.”
“I’ll call the guards at the gate to let them straight through.”
“Thank you, Cyclone,” Maverick replied, unable to mask the relief in his tone. “I owe you one.”
“No favors necessary. I’m a father myself. I get it. I’ll have him to you, shortly.”
“Thank you.”
Maverick hung up the phone and set it down. He just focused on the road ahead of him, knowing that they were still five minutes from the hospital. Rooster still didn’t know, but there were people on that mission. He needed to focus on his own mission, which was getting Phoenix to the proper care center.
“Cyclone gave you his personal phone number?” Phoenix asked, sounding amused as she picked her head up slowly.
“I think he instantly regretted it, but yes, he did,” Maverick stated, shrugging his shoulders. “Glad I got it when I did.”
“You can be persuasive when you want to be,” Phoenix replied knowingly, leaning back in her seat. She let out a shaky breath, resting her hands on her bump.
“We’re almost there,” Maverick assured Phoenix, resting a supportive hand on her shoulder. “Just three more lights. And I’ve got people working to make sure that Rooster gets there on time. It’s going to be alright.”
“Remind me to kick him in the balls when he gets here,” Phoenix grunted out, causing Maverick to chuckle.
“And that’s a kill,” Rooster announced as he got tone on yet another TOP GUN cadet.
“Dammit,” Waxer huffed, righting his plane out of the dive.
“Head back to base, Waxer,” Rooster ordered the cadet.
Rooster turned his plane, about to head back out for another dogfight training session with a different set of cadets, when the comms crackled in his ear.
“Commander Bradshaw, you’re needed back on base immediately.”
Rooster frowned at the order, leveling off his plane. Even though he thought that the order was odd, especially given the time of day, Rooster turned his plane and headed back towards base as instructed from the command tower.
“I thought that we still had three more hops scheduled today?”
“Order came from Admiral Simpson himself,” the operator informed Rooster.
“Can’t argue with that,” Rooster muttered, still confused.
Rooster landed his plane without issue and docked in his usual spot. Once the plane was off and the canopy opened, he slipped out of his seat and climbed down the ladder, moving at his usual pace. Rooster pulled off his helmet when he spotted Hondo jogging out. For a second, he thought that the warrant officer was going to chew out some cadets, but then he met Hondo’s gaze.
And though Rooster hadn’t heard a word from Hondo yet, his mind immediately flew to the worst-case scenario when he realized that Hondo was rushing out to see him. Rooster ran the rest of the distance to him, heart practically beating out of his chest.
“What’s wrong?” Rooster asked immediately.
“They didn’t want to tell you over the comms,” Hondo began, slowing down to a stop in front of Rooster. “Maverick called. Phoenix went into labor and—”
“—She what!?” Rooster exclaimed, heart leaping into his throat. “It’s—there’s still four weeks left—she’s not supposed to—”
Rooster cut himself off when Hondo grabbed his shoulders, shaking the aviator out of his corkscrew of questions that Hondo could not even begin to comprehend or answer. He was just the messenger, after all.
“She’s fine. She’s with Maverick. He’s driving her to the hospital and they’re probably already there by now. Bob and Hangman are rolling in to pick you up and take you. You’re dismissed for the rest of the day. Cyclone said take off the rest of the week.”
“I—shit—tell him thank you,” Rooster rambled, stepping towards the hangars.
“Go, man! Run!” Hondo shooed him, breaking Rooster out of his inner freak out.
“Thanks, Hondo!”
Rooster turned and took off in a dead sprint for the locker room, startling some of the cadets and other staff around the air strip. Hondo chuckled to himself, shaking his head as Rooster ran off. Guess he’d have to get Maverick his ‘you’re officially an old grandpa’ gift early than planned.
“We’re here, we’re here,” Maverick chanted, pulling into a parking spot. “Just stay right here. I’ll grab a wheelchair.”
“Kay,” Phoenix grunted out, shifting uncomfortably.
Maverick jumped out of the car and ran the short distance into the entrance to the ward. There were a few odd looks thrown his way, but he didn’t care. Phoenix slid out of her seat slowly, and Maverick quickly urged her into the wheelchair. He turned her towards the ward when Phoenix reached for the car.
“Go bag.”
“Right, sorry.”
Maverick pushed Phoenix into the ward and wheeled her straight to the reception desk. Phoenix did most of the talking from there, while Maverick checked his phone urgently for any update on Rooster’s location.
“And is this the father?” the receptionist asked as she typed something into the computer.
“No, no, no,” Maverick stammered out, waving his hand back and forth erratically at the question, as if to physically knock the question away.
“Grandfather-to-be,” Phoenix grunted out, tensing up as another contraction started up.
“The father is on his way,” Maverick told the receptionist, who at least had the decency to look a little embarrassed for the question. “He should be here in a couple of minutes.”
“Alright, well, we’ll get you to the examination room right away.”
A nurse tech showed them the way to the examination room and Maverick stayed outside while the doctors assessed Phoenix. He jittered nervously in place as he stood outside with the go bag, checking his phone every three seconds. And just when he was about to try calling Rooster himself again, Rooster’s name popped up on his screen.
“Hello?”
“Mav?” came Rooster’s frantic call.
“I’m here, Brad.”
“Where are you guys?”
“At the hospital. Phoenix is getting examined right now before they officially admit her.”
“And how is she?”
“She’s a tough one, Bradley. And she’s in the best care right now.”
“I—what happened?”
“She called me and said that her water broke. Neither of us could reach you, so I just drove her to the hospital. But she’s alright. She’s at the hospital and she’s being taken care of by all the doctors and nurses. She’s in safe hands.”
“Did you guys remember the go bag?”
“Got it with me right now.”
“What car did you take?”
“We took the family car,” Maverick told Rooster. “Everything’s in place. Just focus on staying calm and getting here.”
“I would if someone would drive faster.”
“I’m at a red light, Rooster. What do you want from me?” Hangman scoffed from beside him.
“I knew I should have driven with Bob,” Rooster muttered under his breath.
“You needed to cool off and the Bronco has shitty air conditioning. You’re welcome.”
“Why couldn’t you drive the Bronco?”
“You wouldn’t let me,” Hangman reminded Rooster, causing him to scoff in response. “Besides Bob’s better at driving stick. If you know what I—”
“—Shut up, Bagman.”
“How far out are you guys?” Maverick asked, shaking his head at them.
“Five to ten minutes, give or take.”
“I’ll text you if she gets placed into a room before you get here,” Maverick offered to Rooster, hoping to calm him down just a little bit.
“Thanks, Mav. For everything,” Rooster replied, his voice a little shaky.
He could practically hear the emotion dripping out of every word, every syllable. And well, Maverick couldn’t blame him. He remembered Goose being an absolute emotional mess when Carole went into labor to the point where Carole had to tell him to breathe.
“You don’t have to thank me, Baby Goose. Just get here.”
“I will,” Rooster promised, before adding, “It’s fucking green, Bagman!”
“Jesus Christ, run to the hospital if you want, Bradshaw!”
“Hi,” Rooster stated to the receptionist, a bit breathless from the breakneck sprint. Hangman at least had the bright idea of dropping him off at the entrance to the ward rather than delaying him further with navigating the parking lot. “My wife, Natasha Bradshaw is here. Room 12.”
“Let me just look it up.”
Rooster could feel his eye start to twitch and wondered if it was going to physically twitch out of his skull before the receptionist found the proper information in the computer. He just gripped the edge of the desk instead, his jaw locked shut, and trying to not fidget in place.
“Yes, right here. And here’s your pass. Room 12 is down the first hall on your right.”
“Thank you.”
Rooster tried to not run through the halls of the maternity ward, but he was certainly moving faster than he should have been. No one stopped him, but some of the nurses exchanged knowing looks. They’d probably all seen their fair share of nervous and borderline insane fathers-to-be. Spotting the Room 12 plaque, he practically dove into the room.
“I’m here, I’m here!”
“You’re here,” Phoenix agreed, amused at how disheveled he looked.
“I didn’t miss it, did I?” he asked, straightening up dumbly.
“No, your baby is still knocking on my cervix,” Phoenix huffed, shifting in her position on the bed. “Lucky me.”
Rooster hurried to her side, pulling her into a careful hug, and planting a kiss on her forehead and her lips in greeting. He fired off a whole bunch of questions, which Phoenix answered calmly. Maverick smiled softly at the exchange, at the instant calming effect that Rooster’s presence had on Phoenix. But, not wanting to infringe on the family moment, he stood up from his chair.
“I’ll leave you two be then.”
“Can you remind Seresin that under no circumstances will any child of mine be named after him?” Phoenix requested, earning a chuckle from Maverick.
“I’ll remind him.”
Maverick gave Phoenix a side hug and wished her good luck and an easy delivery. Phoenix thanked him again for driving her to the hospital before settling back onto the bed. Maverick walked around the bed as Rooster straightened up and walked over to him. Rooster looked like he had a thousand things to say, but he simply pulled Maverick into a tight, grateful hug.
“Thank you for getting her to the hospital,” he stated, releasing Maverick from his grip. “And making sure I got here in time.”
“It’s what your dad would have done,” Maverick returned, causing Rooster to nod emotionally.
Phoenix let out a noise of pain as another contraction hit, breaking up the moment. Rooster broke away from Maverick and instantly returned to his wife’s side. Maverick took his leave silently as Phoenix squeezed the life out of Rooster’s hand. The father-to-be pressed a kiss to her forehead and reached over to grab a cool cloth for her head.
It reminded Maverick just a little too well of a similar scene nearly forty years earlier.
With a smile and a few tears in his eyes, Maverick closed the door behind him to give the couple some privacy. As he walked out of the maternity ward to check up on Bob and Hangman, who were probably waiting outside in the waiting room, Maverick wiped a tear that successfully managed to escape his eye.
You’re gonna be a grandpa, Goose.
“How much longer do you think that we’ll be here for?” Hangman asked the growing crowd, who all shot him looks to shut up.
“Thank god you can’t get Bob pregnant,” Payback stated, earning an eyeroll from Hangman.
“How long have you even been here for?” Coyote inquired, turning to his best friend.
“It’s been . . . seven hours,” Hangman replied, checking his watch.
“My sister was in labor for twenty-two,” Fanboy mentioned offhandedly. The rest of the group to instantly grimaced and recoiled at the information.
“Shit, man.”
“I’m pretty sure that Phoenix would rip Bradshaw’s balls clean off of him if she was in labor for that long,” Hangman pointed out, moving the toothpick around lazily in his mouth.
“No one would blame her,” Bob stated, serious.
There were murmurs of agreement among the group when a nurse assistant walked through the war doors. Many of the people in the waiting room, at least those who were waiting around for news, looked up as the nurse assistant checked the name that she was supposed to call.
“Is there a ‘Maverick’ out here?”
“That’s me,” Maverick exclaimed, up on his feet in an instant. The rest of the Dagger Squad got to their feet too, anxious for news on their extended family.
“Congratulations, you’re officially a grandfather.”
Maverick let out a relieved laugh as the rest of the Dagger Squad rejoiced behind him. He patted Bob’s arm as the WSO pulled him into a tight, congratulatory hug.
“And how are they?” Maverick asked, still a small bubble of concern in his gut.
“Everyone’s healthy.”
Thank Goose.
“The father had a little bit of a dizzy spell during the delivery process, but he pulled through,” the nurse assistant added on at the end.
“Thank you for that information,” Hangman replied, genuinely amused, causing Bob to shake his head. “Because we’ll never let him forget that.”
“Don’t ruin the moment,” Bob told his boyfriend. “And besides, you’d hardly be any better.”
“Can we see them?” Maverick asked the nurse assistant.
“I was told to escort you back, specifically. Your son wanted someone to come grab you. After that, you can talk with the new parents about other guests.”
“Of course, of course.”
“Give them our love,” Bob told Maverick.
It encouraged the other Daggers to throw out messages that Maverick was never going to remember. He was far too caught up in the shock and bliss and emotion of the fact that Bradley, little Bradley with his cowboy hat sitting on top of the piano, was a father of his own now.
The nurse assistant led him through the ward to the recovery rooms. Stopping in front of one that had ‘Bradshaw’ written on the whiteboard, she knocked on the door and opened it once Phoenix’s tired but strong voice cut through. The nurse assistant wished Maverick well before heading off to complete her other duties.
Maverick thanked the nurse assistant before stepping slowly into the recovery room. He carefully closed the door behind him, just stewing in complete awe as he caught sight of the small bundle of blankets in Phoenix’s arms.
The new mother sat propped up on her hospital bed. She looked exhausted—and completely, rightfully so—with her hair messy and mostly contained by a low ponytail. But she wore her usual confident smile as Maverick approached the bed cautiously. Almost as if he’d wake the baby or otherwise harm the baby if he took one wrong step.
“Hey, Mav,” she called softly.
“How are you doing?” Maverick asked immediately, stopping beside Phoenix. He gave her a kiss on the head and a careful hug as he stared with wide eyes at the little baby in her arms, mouth slightly parted in shock.
“Sore. Tired. But it was worth it,” Phoenix replied, her smile widening as she spoke. She turned back to the baby in her arms, adjusting the blanket as the newborn whimpered. “Meet your granddaughter, Mav.”
“A girl?”
“A little girl,” Phoenix confirmed with a proud smile.
“She’s absolutely beautiful, Nat,” Maverick breathed out, still in a little bit of shock.
“Thank you.”
“Where’s Bradley?” Maverick asked, eyes still on the little baby in Phoenix’s arms.
“Right behind you,” Rooster called, walking over to the bed with his own bundle of blankets in his arms.
“Congrats, you—”
Maverick cut himself off when he spotted the bundle of blankets in Rooster’s arms. Because he swore—unless he’d been in some kind of hallucination the last minute—that Phoenix was the one holding the baby. He turned back, just to confirm, and spotted a wiggling bundle of blankets in Phoenix’s arms. And then he turned back to Rooster, who was holding his own wiggling bundle of blankets.
“You . . . your . . . there’s . . .”
Rooster and Phoenix seemed amused as Maverick’s brain short circuited, sharing smiles and soft chuckles at his reaction. Maverick kept turning between the two new parents like a robot on a loop, his mouth hanging open like some fish.
“There’s . . . you had . . . two . . . t-twins,” Maverick finally stammered out, a fresh batch of tears forming in his eyes.
“Surprise,” Rooster replied, his smile absolutely contagious.
"We didn't find out until twenty weeks, so, we just decided to keep it to ourselves," Phoenix explained, rocking her daughter. "We wanted to surprise everyone."
And then Maverick finally broke down. Happy tears openly streamed down his cheeks as he shook his head, resting his hand on the side of his face to try and reign in his emotions. He stood up and gave Rooster a careful side hug as he stared down at the second baby, who was asleep in Rooster’s strong arms.
“So,” Maverick sniffled, “do you have two girls or one of each?”
“Two little girls,” Rooster replied, absolutely beaming with pride. Maverick let out a choking noise as he wiped away some more tears.
“What’re their names?” Maverick asked softly.
“This is Caroline Natasha,” Rooster introduced first, gesturing to the baby in his arms.
“And this is Nicole Michelle,” Phoenix added, adjusting her hold on her daughter.
Maverick held Caroline first, whimpering out praises about how beautiful and small she was. Rooster took his older daughter—by a whole five minutes—back before Maverick turned to the bed. Phoenix helped Maverick with holding little Nicole, smiling as her daughter let out a coo.
“So, you named Caroline after your mother and her mother,” Maverick spoke to Rooster, working through the names in his mind. “And is Nicole for your dad?”
“Yeah,” Rooster agreed with a wide smile. “And Michelle is for you, Mav.”
“We couldn’t figure out a replacement for ‘Pete’ that worked well for a girl, so we just used your last name,” Phoenix explained, leaning back against her bed.
“Really?” Maverick gasped out, another round of fresh round of tears building in his eyes. He looked back and forth between Rooster and Phoenix, his lips wobbling from the emotion of the moment. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“We know,” Phoenix assured him with a smile.
“Twins!?” the Dagger Squad all but squealed in the waiting room.
“Twin girls,” Rooster replied with a smile as big as the state of California.
The Dagger Squad surround Rooster, all holding onto each other and letting out various tones of ‘aws’ at the news. They were certainly gathering a bunch of odd looks from the rest of the waiting room, but none of them cared. Rooster laughed along with them, far too proud and happy to do anything other than laugh or smile for the rest of the day.
“You’ve got a foxtrot team!” Fanboy pointed out, which made Bob tear up on his own.
“We heard you almost passed out,” Hangman stated, patting Rooster on the back.
"Yeah, well, I was fine with the first round. It was the second round that freaked me out," Rooster admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "But I didn’t actually pass out.”
The Dagger Squad shared looks, saving their jokes for a later date.
Rooster took them back to meet the girls. They decided for him to tell them the news about the surprise outside in the waiting room so that they didn’t disturb the girls in the room, or Phoenix for that matter, with their reactions.
Because nothing made naval aviators squeal more than newborns, apparently.
Phoenix was amused that out of everyone in the room, she was the one who was the most emotionally stable. She’d definitely be saving that information for use at a later date, but now she’d just sit back and enjoy the time with her extended family.
Bob and Phoenix took an obligatory foxtrot team photo with the girls. It then prompted Fanboy and Payback to discuss having twins of their own. Hangman cried when he saw the girls and cried again when he held them. Mav ended up shedding the most tears, which was extensively documented thanks to Coyote, but the Dagger Squad was absolutely in love with the two little Bradshaw girls.
But no one more than the two new parents.
Maverick and Bob told them to call if they needed anything from the house or otherwise. Phoenix’s parents had booked a flight and would be there tomorrow morning to help. And Hangman drove the Bronco back to their house for them.
And for the first time all day, it was quiet.
Phoenix passed out not long after their guests left, utterly exhausted from her day. Rooster smiled at his wife as he sat shirtless on the chair beside her bed, their twins laying on his chest for some skin-to-skin contact. He pressed a soft kiss to both of their little covered heads as his arm settled protectively over them.
He hummed ‘Great Balls of Fire’ as he just admired the little humans that were his kids. His little girls that he hoped grew up to be just like their fiery mother. They looked more like her, in his opinion, so they were already halfway there.
Rooster smiled to himself, planning out matching Hawaiian shirts to buy when they got home.