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Very few people knew that the legendary wingmen, Maverick and Iceman, were married. Very few people knew that Maverick and Iceman were your parents. The three of you had kept your parentage a secret to protect both Mav and Ice’s marriage and your career. Having the last name Mitchell on your back made people expect the worst, and having the last name Kazansky made people expect the best. Having both made people do a triple take: first to realize who your parents were, second to realize that two of the best pilots in the Navy were married, then third to be wary of you and your flying ability. When you entered the Naval Academy, Ice changed your name on file from Mitchell-Kazansky to just Mitchell. Mitchell was a common enough last name that no one suspected anything.
When you were called back to Top Gun for a special detachment, you were ecstatic. The prestigious academy held only good memories for you. You had finished top of your class, taking after your dads (because let’s face it, Mav definitely should have tied with Ice). When you found out Mav was teaching the special detachment, you knew immediately he had done something stupid. Ice wouldn’t risk pairing the two of you together in case someone connected the dots between you two. Mav must have really pissed off an admiral, and teaching at Top Gun was his only way out.
Before you left for the detachment, Ice had let you peek at the (highly classified) roster of candidates. Your heart soared seeing Rooster and Phoenix on the list. The three of you had been stationed together at Norfolk right after you graduated Top Gun. You and Rooster were especially close, and he was the only one who knew about your parents. After his dad had died, Carole had taken a job across the country, moving her and six year old Rooster away from the Mav and the rest ‘86 class. Even though you hadn’t grown up with Rooster, fate brought you two back together at Norfolk. Mav had been glad to see the son of his late RIO, and Rooster thought of Mav as the father he lost.
After your first day of flying with the soon-to-be Dagger Squad, you found yourself at the Hard Deck for the second night in a row, playing pool against the cockiest pilot you’d ever met in your life (and you grew up around the ‘86 class). You, Phoenix, and Halo had teamed up in female solidarity against Hangman, who was currently winning.
“So, what did you guys think about Maverick?” Phoenix asked, watching as you lined up your shot.
“The way he flies is terrifying. It’s almost like his jet is just another part of him. I’ve literally never flown with a better pilot,” Halo replied. Hangman gave an indignant scoff.
“You’ll get your chance tomorrow,” Hangman said as you sank a striped ball. He studied the table and began lining up his shot.
“Really?” you asked, amusedly. “You think you’re a better pilot than Maverick?”
“I don’t think it, I know it, darlin’,” Hangman sank two solids. This game was not going well for you.
“Didn’t he get tone on you, though?” you raised an eyebrow at him. His brow furrowed for a moment, before he regained his cocky grin. He opened his mouth to respond, but the Angel of Alcohol interrupted him with another round of drinks. Rooster handed you a bottle and watched as you returned to the game you were badly losing. You hit a ball but missed the pocket. Hangman shot his last solid into the pocket, leaving him the 8-ball. You sighed, and resigned yourself to making his last shot as hard as possible, trying to get as many balls as close to the 8-ball as you could so he would have a harder shot. Of course, it did nothing. He sank the 8-ball and sent you a victorious smirk.
“What you lack in flying skills, you make up for in pool,” you said good-naturedly, passing the cue to Phoenix. “Nice to know that I can still beat you in something.”
“Darlin’, I’m not lacking in any skills,” he drawled in his southern accent. “And it’s sweet you think you can beat me.”
“You wanna bet?” You challenged. Hangman smirked at you.
“We’re flying against Maverick again tomorrow. First one to get tone on him gets their drinks covered for the rest of the week,” Hangman said.
“You’re on,” you accepted. “Get ready to buy all my drinks.”
“I wouldn’t be too cocky, darlin’,” Hangman shot the 8-ball into the pocket, winning his game against Phoenix in record speed. The pilot sighed and handed her cue to Halo, who had been watching the game with Omaha and Fritz.
“I don’t even know why we play him,” Phoenix said to you. “He wins every time.”
“He’s gotta have telekinesis or something,” Bob appeared behind you, sipping a lemonade. You jumped in shock.
“Jesus, Bob. Where did you come from?” you asked, making sure your drink hadn’t spilled.
“I’ve been here the whole time,” the WSO said good-naturedly.
“I’m gonna hit the piano,” Rooster downed the last of his drink and set it on the bar. “Champagne, come with me?” You obliged, finishing your drink as well. The two of you walked over to the piano (which desperately needed tuning).
“Do any of the Daggers know that Mav is your dad?” Rooster asked. You shook your head.
“Just you. I need to keep it that way,” you said. “If the rest of the squad finds out, they’ll think he’s going easy on me.”
“Especially Hangman,” Rooster said, warming up the keys.
“Especially Hangman,” you agreed. “If he finds out, he’ll say that I don’t deserve to be here. I get enough of that from Navy men as is.”
“I won’t say anything,” Rooster promised. He quickly changed the subject. “Any song requests?”
“Sweet Child of Mine,” Phoenix said, joining you at the piano with Bob in tow. Rooster began playing the familiar intro. Payback, Fanboy, and Fritz quickly came over.
She's got a smile that it seems to me
Reminds me of childhood memories
Where everything was as fresh as the bright blue sky
Now and then when I see her face
She takes me away to that special place
And if I stare too long, I'd probably break down and cry…
The next day, you and Hangman were the first to go up against Maverick. The three planes wove around each other, all vying for the proper shot. Mav chased you through the sky as you deftly dodged his attempts at a shot. Hangman was nowhere to be seen.
“Where’s your wingman, Champagne?” Mav said, swinging his plane around faster than should be possible.
“Hangman, where are you?” you called, squinting into the sun. “Get him off me!”
“Don’t worry, darlin’, Hangman’s coming,” the pilot’s voice crackled in your ear. You spotted him swooping after Maverick. Mav pulled into a vertical climb, Hangman on his tail. Mav looped his plane over Hangman’s, appearing behind him. You flew after them, but it was too late. Mav got tone on Hangman, who let out a string of weird southern curses. Hangman peeled away, leaving you to fend against Mav.
“It’s just you and me now, kid,” Mav said.
“You wanna dance, old man? Let’s dance.” You pulled around and barrel rolled above Mav’s plane, sending the two of you into a defensive spiral.
“Didn’t you get in trouble for this move yesterday, Mav?” you asked, straining against the G’s.
“And the Cobra maneuver,” Mav grinned at the thought of pissing off Cyclone again. “Don’t tell him.” Listening in via the radio in his office, Cyclone sighed in defeat and decided to let it go. He didn’t have the energy to deal with one Mitchell, let alone two. Especially considering one was married to a Kazansky and one was the child of a Kazansky.
“You better pull up, Mav,” you said as the cockpit lady blared her warning. Altitude. Altitude. Altitude. “I’m sure as hell not.” Mav held the spiral for another moment, unwilling to break. Pull up, pull up! Pull up, pull up!
With a grunt, Mav shoved his joystick back and pulled out of the dive. You followed suit and entered the canyon behind him. Mav swerved, sending him right into your line of fire. Your targeting system locked onto his plane, getting tone on him. You cheered into your comms. Already back on the ground, Hangman groaned in defeat and prepared his wallet to pay for your drinks.
“Great job, kid,” Mav said. “I’m so proud of you. Level off, I’ll see you on the ground.”
You landed your plane and as you were climbing out of the cockpit, Phoenix came over to congratulate you. “You got tone on Maverick!” she exclaimed. “Spot me a drink from Hangman?” You grinned.
“I’ll cover all your drinks on his dime,” you said, searching for the blonde aviator. You spotted him walking down the tarmac, away from you. Phoenix helped you off of the ladder and the two of you walked to the rec room.
After the hop, everyone (minus Coyote) was chilling in the rec room, waiting for the day’s debriefing. “Hangman, Mav wants you to see him in his office,” Coyote said, appearing in the doorway. Hangman got up from his spot on the couch where he had been sitting sulkily.
Hangman entered Mav’s office where the older pilot was (unhappily) filling out paperwork. “You wanted to see me, sir?”
“I did,” said Mav, clearing the paperwork away. “I want to talk about your teamwork. You consistently leave your wingman and your team. I get it, you want to be the best. But if you had been by Champagne’s side during the hop, like you were supposed to, you could have been the one to get tone on me.”
Hangman’s eyes fell on a picture frame on Mav’s desk. It depicted a little girl sitting on a much younger Mav’s shoulders. The little girl looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. He nodded distractedly. “I’ll work on that, sir.”
Mav noticed Hangman’s gaze and turned the picture frame face down. “Good. You’re dismissed, Lieutenant.”
Hangman left Mav’s office, his thoughts swirling. He stopped in the doorway of the rec room and beckoned to Coyote. The two pilots walked a safe distance down the hall. “You okay?” Coyote asked.
“Do Mav and Champagne seem weird to you?” he asked. Coyote furrowed his brow.
“Weird how?”
“During the hop today, Mav kept calling Champagne ‘kid’ and she called him ‘old man’. He said he was proud of her,” Hangman explained. “And they have the same last name.”
“I mean, Mitchell’s a pretty common last name,” Coyote tried.
“When I went into his office, he had a picture on his desk of a little girl that looked like Champagne,” Hangman continued. “When he saw me looking at it, he hid it from me.”
“So… what? You think Champagne is…” Coyote trailed off.
“I think Champagne is Mav’s daughter,” Hangman finished. Coyote shook his head.
“I don’t know, man. That could all be a coincidence,” Coyote said. “Are you sure you’re not upset that Champagne won your bet?”
“I think Champagne only won because Mav was taking it easy on her,” Hangman stated. “Which would make sense if she’s his daughter.”
“Dude, do you know how you sound right now?” Coyote warned him. “You sound like a sore loser.”
“But what if I’m right?”
“If you’re right, then you should keep it to yourself. Don’t you think if they wanted us to know, we would?” Coyote advised. Hangman squinted at him.
“I’m going to do a little more digging,” he said, walking away. “I’ll see you later.” Coyote sighed, knowing it was no good to argue with him. Sometimes, Hangman was too competitive for his own good.
The next day, the Daggers were in the classroom, waiting for Mav to start the day’s lesson. “I learned an interesting piece of information yesterday,” Hangman said suddenly. Everyone turned to look at him. Coyote sent him a warning look, which he ignored. “I found out that Maverick here has a daughter.”
Your stomach dropped. “That’s enough, Lieutenant Seresin,” Mav said.
“And she happens to be in the room with us right now,” Hangman continued. The Daggers looked around, finding the three females in the room. You met Rooster’s eyes, your panicked expressions mirroring each other.
“Lieutenant Seresin, I don’t know what you think you know, but you need to stop talking right now,” Mav warned, switching into his Commanding Officer voice.
“He’s been going easy on her in the hops. In fact, that’s the only reason she got tone on him yesterday. Isn’t that right, Champagne,” Hangman finally turned to look at you. You suddenly felt twelve pairs of eyes on you. The Daggers’ expressions ranged from shock to confusion.
“You absolute dick!” you yelled, jumping out of your chair and lunging at him. The Daggers immediately sprang up to stop the potential fight. Rooster leapt up and threw himself at you, his arms wrapping safely around you. Whether it was for your safety or Hangman’s, you didn’t know. You thrashed under Rooster’s grip, trying to land a punch on Hangman’s stupid face.
“Lieutenant Seresin!” Mav yelled. Everyone went silent and you slumped into Rooster. He tightened his arms around you protectively. “Yes, Champagne is my daughter. But that does not make me go easier on her than I do on the rest of you. She is one of the most capable pilots I’ve ever seen. And if you honestly think that the only reason you lost that bet is because I let her get tone on me, then you’re an even worse pilot than I thought.”
Hangman’s face blanched. You had never seen Mav this angry before. “Now everyone sit down so I can finish this lesson and hopefully teach all of you how to come back alive from this mission,” Mav said sternly. “We don’t have that much time left and I do not want to hear any more about this, is that understood?”
After the day’s lesson was over, you quickly changed into your civilian clothing and drove to the apartment the Navy was renting for you. You weren’t in the mood to go to the Hard Deck. A few minutes after you got home, there was a knock on your door. You opened it to find Phoenix, Halo, Rooster, and Bob standing there.
“Guys, I’m not really in the mood to talk,” you sighed.
Halo had an understanding look on her face. “It might make you feel better,” she said softly. You relented and opened the door for them to come in. The two pilots and two WSOs filed in, taking in your sparsely decorated apartment.
Phoenix was the first to break the ice. “So, your dad is Maverick?”
You nodded, not meeting any of their eyes. “Yeah, my dad is Mav.”
“Why did you want to keep it a secret?” Bob asked.
“Because you saw what happened in class today,” you said. “People always assume that my career has been easier than theirs because of my parents. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys, but I’ve been keeping it a secret for so long.”
“It’s okay,” Phoenix pulled you into a hug. The other three aviators joined in, wrapping their arms around you. In the tangle of arms, you felt safe and comforted.
“We get it,” Halo hummed underneath Rooster’s arm. “It’s not easy being a woman in any field, much less the Navy.”
The hug broke apart and Bob turned to you with an inquisitive look. “Did you say parents earlier?”
“What?”
“Parents. Earlier you said that people think your career has been easier than theirs because of your parents, plural,” the WSO said.
You groaned at your choice of words. “Oops. Yeah, parents plural.”
“You have another Navy parent?” Halo asked. “Who’s your mom?”
You chuckled a little bit at that. “Actually, it’s my other dad.”
“You have two dads?” Phoenix asked. “Who’s the other one?”
You smirked, cheering up. “Iceman.”
Phoenix, Bob, and Halo were silent for a moment. “Iceman. Admiral… Kazansky,” Bob said slowly. “Admiral Kazansky is your other father.” You nodded.
“The Commander of the Pacific Fleet is your other father,” Phoenix said, her mouth open in shock. You nodded again.
“Oh my god. Wow,” Halo said. “I don’t know what’s crazier: the fact that you have two Naval legends for parents, or the fact that Admiral Kazansky and Maverick are married.”
“What’s wrong with that?” you asked defensively.
“Nothing!” Halo quickly backtracked. “They just seem like polar opposites. Admiral Kazansky is so highly ranked and poised and formal.”
“And Maverick is Maverick,” Phoenix finished.
“They were wingmen back in ‘86,” you explained.
“Oh my god, they were wingmen,” Bob whispered, his joke calming your anxiety.
“Please don’t tell anyone,” you pleaded. “I don’t need anyone pulling a Hangman on me.”
“Of course,” Halo said. “You don’t even have to ask.” Phoenix and Bob nodded their agreement.
“Rooster, you’ve been suspiciously quiet,” Phoenix noted. The pornstached pilot quickly looked away.
“He already knew,” you said, waving a hand at him. “His dad and my dad used to be friends, so when we were stationed at Norfolk, he and Mav met up again.”
“And you didn't say anything?” Phoenix cried in mock anger. She swatted Rooster’s arm playfully. “I thought we were friends! You’re breaking my heart.” You laughed at her antics, finally cheering up.
“Come on, let’s go to the Hard Deck,” Rooster spoke for the first time. “The squad is waiting for us there.”
“I don't really want to see Hangman,” you groaned.
“Not even to drain his bank account?” Phoenix urged. “Come on, all your drinks are on his dime. Make him pay a little.”
“Okay, fine,” you relented. The five of you piled in Rooster’s Bronco and quickly arrived at the Hard Deck. The lively bar was filled with the sounds of overlapping chatter, the jukebox crooning away in the corner, and pool balls smashing into each other, courtesy of the other Daggers.
You followed Phoenix and Halo to the pool tables. Hangman seemed a little off his game and was currently losing to Fritz. He looked up and spotted you.
“Champagne, can I talk to you?” he said quickly, passing his cue to Coyote to finish the game.
“Only to buy me a drink,” you said. Hangman nodded and walked you to the bar. You ordered two shots, putting them on Hangman’s tab. You quickly downed them. If you had to talk to Hangman, you would do it drunk, or at least tipsy. You ordered a real drink from Penny, and turned back to Hangman, who had been waiting to talk to you.
“What, Bagman?” you sipped at your drink, already feeling the alcohol.
“I wanted to apologize,” he said. His green eyes, that normally glinted with cockiness, looked stormy. “My mama raised me better than to treat someone like that, especially a lady. I was upset that you got tone on Maverick before I did. You beat me, fair and square.”
You nearly choked on your drink. That was not what you had been expecting from him. “Thank you, Hangman.”
“I know that you are an amazing pilot without the help of your dad,” Hangman continued. “I was wrong, and I regret my actions. I’m sorry.”
You had never seen this side of Hangman before. Soft, caring, a team player? “Thank you for saying that,” you said. “Let’s move past this, okay?”
Hangman nodded and ordered you another drink. “You up for a round of pool?”
You laughed and accepted the drink. The two of you walked back to the pool table where Fritz had beat Coyote by a landslide. Rooster had clearly explained your whole Mav-situation to the rest of the Daggers, because none of them asked you any questions and were chattering away like normal. You accepted the pool cue from Fritz and studied the table as Hangman made the first shot. You could hear Rooster playing the piano, the same song you had requested a few nights before.
Whoa, oh, oh
Sweet child o' mine
Whoa, oh, oh, oh
Sweet child of mine!
You could grow to like Hangman.