Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Mother Beaver to any friendly aircraft in the area?” Mother Beaver’s voice carried a weight of desperation. Noon, the sun at its peak glimmering through the windows. Mother Beaver, an airline-sized command and control aircraft or AWACS is scanning over New England, giving situational awareness to friendly aircraft. Her escort fighters have just exploded, hit by long-range missiles from an unknown bandit.

The mission commander pleaded, “There are 2 bandits screaming towards us. Please, if someone doesn’t respond we are going to die.”

Suspense filled the air. A few seconds went by, with no response on the radio, until a voice cracked through the airwaves. An unusually calm voice responded to her distress call.

“Roger, how far are the bandits?

“20 klicks out. Who, who are you?” Mother Beaver questioned.

The unidentified voice replied “This is Mountie, I’m Royal 1, we are a three-ship flight. on patrol. Bearing 260 degrees from you, ten miles out at Angles 24 (24 thousand metres).”

Relief flooded Mother Beaver as she identified the incoming fighters. “Oh, Thank God. There are 2 bandits on an intercept course towards us, bearing 130 degrees at Angles 15.”

“Don’t worry, Royal team has them. Sheriff, stay back, jam them. Trooper, let’s take out these aircraft,” ordered Royal 1.

Sheriff protested, “Why do we have to st—” Deputy interrupted, “Good copy, we’ll jam these guys.” Deputy, the Royal 3 Weapon Systems Officer, immediately engaged the electronic warfare pod that his aircraft was carrying, which blinded the bandits' radars.

“Roger that, gaining altitude,” Trooper said, his F-18 ascending into the blue, the roar of the engines echoing across the sky.

“Trooper, I’m on your 6,” Mountie confirmed, as his F-18 edged into formation to the rear of Trooper’s aircraft.

Just before firing his missile, Royal 2 announced, “Target lock on bandit 1… FOX 3, away.”

“Target lock on bandit 2, FOX 3 away,” Mountie informed.

Mother Beaver confirmed with everyone, “Good copy, tracking the missiles. The bandits haven’t launched anything.”

The missile arced towards their targets. “Mother Beaver to Royal flight, one bandit down the other evaded.”

Trooper, displaying a hint of recklessness, ignited his afterburners to pursue the last bandit.

“FOX 3, away!” Royal 3 reported.

Trooper observed the bandit evading, and then boom, with an ecstatic voice, a victory declaration from Mother Beaver. “All Bandits are down, we did it.”

With celebration palpable in their voices, Sheriff exclaimed, “We annihilated them, WOOO.” Deputy confirmed, “Good copy all bandits down”.

Trooper, in his own way, acknowledged their success, “Good job Sheriff and Dep.”

Mountie wasted no time in reprimanding him for breaking formation, “Trooper, what were you thinking? Rejoin on me, we’ll debrief this later!”

Mother Beaver’s voice cracked over the radio, “Good job, Royal team. Thank you for saving me and my crew's ass.”

“Anytime Mother Beaver.” Royal 3 responded, her satisfaction evident in her voice.

Mother Beaver’s tone softened, “Drinks on me, Royal team. I owe you one.”

Royal 1, with a calm voice, acknowledged, “We appreciate that, Mother Beaver, escorting you out of the area now.”

The F-18s formed up around Mother Beaver’s aircraft, creating a protective shield as they guided her through the airspace.

“Thank you, Royal Flight.” Mother Beaver’s voice laced with gratitude, “Fly safe out there.”

With their final exchange of radio acknowledgements, Royal Flight executed a smooth exit, leaving the turbulent skies in a state of calm.

Royal Flight touched down at Airbase Riverside, the cheers of the ground crew echoing through the air as the sleek aircraft taxied to a stop. Sheriff and Deputy shared a glance, the exhilaration of victory still apparent. With the canopy's opening, removing their flight helmets.

The wind tousled their hair, a tangible reminder of the adrenaline-fueled mission, and they exchanged smiles before the ground crew, bubbling with enthusiasm, brought the ladder, they descended from the cockpit.

Walking towards the briefing room, the atmosphere was filled with accomplishment and victory. The success of their mission and the first air-to-air kills in 20 years lingered in all of their minds, making the team more than just colleagues.

Amidst the chaos of an Airbase, Deputy saw Sheriff blush as she looked at him, before Deputy could speak Sheriff unable to contain her her thoughts, turned to Deputy.

“So, what are you going to be doing this weekend?” she said embarrassed, her cheeks rose red.

Deputy, momentarily lost in thought, considered his response before sharing, “Me and Trooper are going to the Officer’s club, why?”

Sheriff's eyes widened in surprise. "THERE'S AN OFFICER’S CLUB? No one told me about that."

Deputy, equally taken aback, responded, "Really? All pilots know about the Bar… You had no idea there is an Officers club."

A sudden realization dawned on Sheriff, and with a hint of bashfulness, she asked, "Ca- can I come with you?" A faint blush coloured her cheeks.

Just as surprised as Sheriff, Deputy took a moment before responding, "O…K…"

In the Briefing Room:

The atmosphere in the briefing room was tense as Chief, the commanding officer/CO of Maple Squadron, began the debriefing for the Royal team.

Sheriff and Deputy, however, couldn't shake off their thoughts about the upcoming social excursion. Sheriff’s mind raced with questions. ‘Did I just ask him to go on a D-a-t-e? No, yes? No, no, it's not a Date it’s a social gathering with friends. Oh God really Mila your WSO out of all people your WSO, what do I wear something fancy or casual? Should I put on makeup?’

Deputy, on the other hand, pondered Sheriff's request. ‘Why does she want to come with me to the Officers club? Why am I thinking that this is a date? What should I wear, hmm, casual, casual. I got to tell Trooper.’

Chief concluded the debrief, “So, any questions? No, good, dismissed.”

After the briefing, Deputy approached Trooper. “Hey, Trooper.”

Trooper replied, “You don’t have to use my call sign.”

“Sorry. So, Mattew, is it okay if Sheriff comes to the Officer's club with us?” Dep said slightly blushing.

Matthew sees Tomas blush, “You know what Tomas, yeah, why not.”

Tomas's eyes were as bright as the Sun, “Really you mean that?”

“Yes I do, did Mila ask you out or did you?” Matthew said with a tooth smile.

“She asked me out.” Tomas softly said.

Chapter Text

Soaring through the upper cloud layer over New England, Deputy looked down at the black, low-hanging clouds, painting a dreary picture below, casting shadows on the healing Earth.

Royal Team navigated through the clear blue skies. A familiar voice echoed through the radio, “Mother Beaver to Royal Team, Mother Beaver to Royal Team, do you copy?” Mother Beaver said with a witty voice.

“Royal Team to Mother Beaver, we hear you loud and clear,” Royal 1 responded with a composed voice.

A few seconds later, Mother Beaver responded, “Good copy, Royal Team. I need you to patrol sector Hotel 7, copy?” Mother Beaver said.

“Good copy, Mother Beaver. Heading to sector Hotel 7 for patrol,” Royal 1 acknowledged.

As Royal Team went into a holding pattern, Sheriff brought up the topic of a second date with Deputy.

“So, Dep? I was thinking, we had fun last night so… we should…” Sheriff began.

“We should what, Sheriff?” Deputy asked.

“We should… get a drink after this, you know, to decompress,” Sheriff suggested.

A solid minute passed, and Deputy hadn’t responded. All Sheriff could think was, ‘Why hasn’t he responded? Is he mad at me?’

“So, is that a yes?” Sheriff asked eagerly.

“Aaaa, yyeess?” Deputy replied, still contemplating. ‘What does he mean by “aaa, yyeess”? Is that a yes or maybe?’ Sheriff wondered. Deputy reconfirmed, “Yes, I... I love spending time with you.” Sheriff's face turned as red as a tomato. She waited until she wasn’t flustered and said, “Good, I can’t wait,” trying to keep her cool.

“Mother Beaver to Royal Team… Mother Beaver to Royal Team?” Royal 1 returned, interrupting their conversation.

“Royal Team hears you, Mother Beaver, loud and clear. What do you need?” Royal 1 responded.

“We have some mercenary F/A-15s. I would like you to… Show them the King's might,” Mother Beaver instructed.

“Good copy. We’ll show them the money is not worth the blood,” Royal 1 replied.

“Good copy. They are bearing 200, angels 20, 30 klicks out,” Mother Beaver informed.

“Good copy, Mother Beaver,” Royal 1 acknowledged.

As Royal Team got into Vic formation and closed the distance to back up their warnings, they were now 5 klicks from the merc F-15s, which were still advancing.

“Mercenary aircraft, turn around, or we will fire,” Royal 1 warned.

“Sheriff, get ready. If they are going to do something, it’s going to be now,” Deputy cautioned.

“As soon as they drop their drop tanks, I’ll get a target package on them, okay?” Deputy's voice was laced with fear. “Mercenary aircraft, this is your final warning. Turn around or you will be shot down.”

One minute passed, and the mercs dropped their drop tanks. The first bandit banked hard left, and the second banked hard right.

“I got the one on the left,” Mountie announced.

“Roger got the one on the right,” Trooper confirmed.

While Royal 1 and 2 were occupied, Royal 3 was tasked with intercepting one more merc aircraft, an Su-27.

“Dep, you ready?” Sheriff asked enthusiastically.

“Ready for what?” Deputy's voice trembled.

“Ready for this,” Sheriff said confidently, putting the aircraft into afterburner. The force of the maneuver slammed both their bodies back into their seats. As the Su-27 spotted Royal 3, it attempted a scissor maneuver to try to get Royal 3 to overshoot. Sheriff bled speed so they had a slim hope of winning.

“Come on… Come on, overshoot,” Sheriff said, feeling the weight of the G-forces. The Su was in front of them.

“Come on, come on, give me tone… Got it… Fox 2 away… Splash one bandit,” Sheriff announced. Suddenly, warnings went off.

“Oh God, popping flares,” Sheriff exclaimed.

“Sheriff, do some of that pilot stuff,” Deputy urged.

“I can’t do it if I don’t know where he is, Dep,” Sheriff asked.

Deputy looked back, up, left, and right. ”No idea…” He thought about it, but a tracer flew straight up about a meter from the cockpit.

“He’s below us. He's below us!” Sheriff banked left to evade the cannon fire. Deputy analyzed the situation the aircraft has it shot up.

“Sheriff, he has one fox 2 and two fox 3,” Deputy reported, his voice trembling.

“Sheriff, he’s behind us,” Deputy warned.

“Dep?” Sheriff called out.

“Yeah,” Deputy responded.

“I…I like you,” Sheriff confessed.

“WHAT?” Deputy exclaimed.

Seeing no other option, Sheriff tried a high G barrel roll. They both almost passed out from it, but they gained the upper hand.

“Dep… Dep, are you okay?” Sheriff asked, concerned.

“I’ve been better,” Deputy replied, his voice heavy.

Almost 40 klicks away, Royal 1 and 2 were being tasked to intercept two more Merc planes.

“Mercenaries, you dogs, I dare you to attack,” Mountie said with distaste.

The Mercs responded, “You can’t tease me with a good time.”

“Sir, are you alright?” Trooper asked Mountie, concerned.

Before Mountie could answer, they dropped their drop tanks.

“Trooper, kill the F-16,” Mountie instructed.

“Good copy,” Trooper responded.

Mountie, grinding his teeth, engaged in an intercept with the other jet.

Back to Royal 3, the dogfight was still ongoing. Both aircraft were in a one-circle dogfight. The F/A-15 was slowly winning, but not for long.

“Dep… I’m about… to do… something… that might save us,” Sheriff said, experiencing up to 7 G’s.

“Do… it… fast… or we’ll… have a stroke,” Deputy urged, trying his best to stay in the fight.

Sheriff stopped the one-circle fight and dove below the clouds into the thunderstorm. The F-15 followed. Both aircraft vanished from radar.

“Mother Beaver to all aircraft in the area, all bandits down, but I don’t see Royal 3,” Mother Beaver reported.

“Royal 1 to Royal 3, what is your location?” Mountie asked with a trace of fear.

Two minutes later, “Sheriff, Deputy, where are you?”

Five minutes passed, and an F/A-18 emerged from the clouds.

“Sheriff, Dep, it’s good to see you two,” Trooper greeted.

“Royal 3, report,” Mountie demanded.

Mountie and Trooper noticed smoke coming from the back of the aircraft.

“Sir… Right engine is gone, I have a weird sensation in my back, and Tomas is unconscious. So, not good, sir,” Sheriff reported.

“Mother Beaver to Royal Team, RTB, I repeat RTB,” Mother Beaver ordered.

“Roger that, Mother Beaver. We’re RTB,” Royal 1 confirmed.

Ten minutes passed.

“Wake up, Tomas. Tom, wake up,” Sheriff said urgently.

“Mila, what… what happened?” Tomas asked, his voice tired.

“Tomas! Are you okay? Are you hit?” Mila inquired with a heavy tone.

“My head hurts… but I’m okay. Are you… okay?” Tomas responded, sounding exhausted.

“My back feels weird, but that’s it,” Mila replied.

“I bet it’s nothing,” Tomas reassured her.

“Are we almost home?” Tomas asked.

“Yes, Tomas, we're almost home,” Mila said softly.

As they landed, the ground and medical crews rushed into position. Royal 3 landed, taxied to the tarmac, and turned off the engine, signaling for the ground and medical crews to approach. The medics attended to Tomas first and then helped Mila.

As the medics and ground crews worked, “Come on, everyone, let’s help them,” Chief encouraged, getting the other pilots to assist in carrying Deputy and Sheriff.

“Sheriff, you are a legend,” a pilot praised. “You took out two Mercs by yourself? Damn, you two.”

When the medics cleared them for transport to the field hospital, it took two days for them to be cleared to leave.

Two days later, Chief, Mountie, and Trooper awaited Deputy and Sheriff for debriefing. Two minutes turned into six, then ten.

“Okay, this is getting ridiculous now. Permission to find them, sir?” Trooper requested.

“Permission denied. Let's just wait,” Mountie decided.

Sheriff and Deputy finally walked in, both smiling.

“Oh, there they are. Took you long enough,” Trooper remarked.

“Sorry, guys. Yeah, sorry,” Deputy and Sheriff apologized.

“So… no explanation? Where were you two doing-” Trooper began, but Deputy cut him off.

“Don’t you say it.”

Sheriff wondered what Trooper was going to say.

“So, let’s begin with the debrief,” Chief redirected the conversation quickly.

The debrief was long and tedious. As they were leaving, Chief pointed at Sheriff and Deputy and said, “Tomorrow, meet me at my office at 09:00 hours,” to which they both nodded in unison and walked away.

Tomas grabbed Mila’s hand and pulled her aside.

“Two days ago, you said you wanted to get a drink together. I got invited to a party, and I can bring a plus one. You want to come?” Tomas invited.

‘D… did he just invite me to be his plus one?’ Mila's cheeks started to blush.

“Yes… of course,” Mila accepted.

As Mila and Tomas walked to the party, Mila wondered, “Why are we in the Special Forces part of the base? Have you heard the stories?” Mila clutched Tomas's arm.

“Don’t worry. Most of them are good people,” Tomas reassured her.

They arrived at the SOF lounge. Mila wondered how Tomas got invited there.

“Tomas?” Mila asked softly.

“Yeah, Mila?” Tomas responded.

“How did you get invited to a SOF party?” Mila inquired.

“Oh, to make a long story short, a childhood friend,” Tomas explained.

Mila nodded, noticing a big sign in the lounge.

“Why does the sign say 'Devils'?” Mila asked Tomas.

“They got that name from the mercenaries down in Oceania and to pay tribute to a very old unit before the Calamity,” Tomas clarified.

Pov Mila

"Why are you here?" asked the door guard, eyeing Tomas up and down. His gaze shifted to me. "Oh, what do we have here, a girl? Come on in," he said, opening the door. Tomas stepped forward. "Hold on," he said, turning to me. "Go in there and find my friend Lucas. He has black hair and a Lucifer patch on his jacket."

As I entered, the door closed behind me, muffling Tomas's conversation with the guard. I decided to check the bar first. Spec-ops personnel often like to drink, right? Someone matching the description sat at the bar.

"Excuse me," I said. He turned toward me with a smile. "Hi, what's up?"

"Do you know Lucifer?" I asked softly.

"Sorry, no," he replied.

I asked two other people with no luck. However, a group of people with coyote patches caught my attention.

"Excuse me," I said to them. They all turned toward me. "What's up, birdy? Lost?" a coyote said.

"A little," I admitted.

"Oh, birdy, come sit with us. We'll help," the leader said, taking my hand gently and leading me to a couch. "So, what's up, birdy?"

"I'm trying to find Lucifer," I replied uncomfortably.

"Omega, would you show birdy to Lucifer?" the leader asked with a smile. Omega nodded. "Come on, birdy," Omega said, guiding me toward the private rooms.

Suddenly, a voice behind me asked, "What are you doing with that lady?" I turned to see a man with black hair and a Lucifer patch. I ran to him. "Are you alright?" Lucifer asked.

I nodded.

"Are you a pilot?" Lucifer asked.

I nodded again.

"Are... are you Sheriff?" he asked in surprise.

I nodded once more.

"Oh, wow, Tomas is really lucky to have you... please, sit," Lucifer said, guiding me to their booth.

"Thank you," I said.

"No problem at all. So, where's Tom-Tom?" Lucifer asked with a smile. Tom Tom is that Tomas nickname?

"The door guard is keeping him out," I explained.

Lucifer stood up and called over his buddies. "Stay here, please," he said to me. One of the Devils stayed with me while the rest went to the door. The coyotes approached our booth.

"Boys, look, it's little birdy," a coyote said.

"Damn, birdy, you look nice. You should come stay with us. I promise we'll go easy, keep you safe, of course," another coyote said.

"You don't have to be Devil's pet," a coyote sneered.

Before I could respond, the Devil guarding me spoke up. "Can you coyotes shut up for once in your life?" The coyotes were stunned.

"She is under the Devil's protection, so harass someone else," the Devil said sternly.

"What if we don't?" the coyote leader challenged.

"Don't test me," the Devil warned.

"Alright, you win. Bye-bye, little birdy," the coyote leader said begrudgingly.

Five minutes later, the Devils returned with Tomas. "Tomas!" I exclaimed, rushing to hug him. He had bruises and a bloody nose. We sat on the couch.

"What happened?" I asked, concerned.

"Well, when you walked in, I tried to show him he shouldn't disrespect an Officer. But he put his hand on me, so... I punched him a few times, but he didn't like it," Tomas explained.

"He did that for me?" I thought, secretly grateful.

"Damn, Tomas, you squared up against a door breacher and won!" Lucas exclaimed.

"WON? Look at him," I said, glancing at Tomas's injuries.

"I think my boy won because you should look at the other guy," Lucas said with a grin.

Lucas grabbed a bottle of whiskey and three glasses. "Let's have a drink," he suggested, handing us glasses. That's all I remember from that night.

Waking up, I realized this wasn't my bed. I leaned over and saw Tomas on the floor. "Tomas... Tomas," I whispered urgently. He didn't wake up. "Tomas!" I said louder, throwing a pillow at him.

"Yes... what's wrong?" Tomas mumbled, still half asleep.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"We're at Lucas's place."

What happened last night? Why are we at Lucas's place?

"Come on, you two, get up," a voice urged.