Work Text:
Revvin' up your engine
Listen to her howlin' roar
Metal under tension
Beggin' you to touch and go
Once again, Maverick and Iceman had one of their pissing contests. Not literally, per se, but...
They were supposed to have a lesson on enemy aircraft, courtesy of their civilian instructor Charlie.
However, Charlie was, for once, late, and all was not well in the lesson room.
Until the door opened up, and two men came in.
"Attention!" Viper barked out, successfully startling the pilots.
Stern gray eyes looked over the men, noting the tension in the room, the cause , as always, was the young Mitchell.
'That brat again...' Viper thought to himself, sweatdropping. 'Does he really have to piss off everyone and their mothers?' Inwardly, he winced and wished the new instructor much luck with the brats.
All eyes zeroed onto the two men in front of them. Maverick's cocky smirk slipped down a notch, while Iceman's frosty eyes widened a bit.
"Due to some... complications, your previous instructor won't be teaching you anymore. This is your new instructor, Mr. Harry Evans." Viper said gruffly. He literally could see the questions in the men's eyes. "I'll leave you now to your work..." He nodded to the petite man.
The eyes watched as the civilian nodded. "Yes, sir." His voice was smooth, not too high and not too low, with barely hinted British accent in. "A round at 20 00 as usual?"
Disbelieving eyes watched, as the old war hawk smirked. "And don't you forget it. " His scratchy, stern voice took on slightly warm tone momentarily.
"Of course not," The new instructor deadpanned. "Now shoo, you're cramping my style." At that, Viper barked out a laugh, nodding. "Aye, aye. You still owe me that bottle, though," He called, before he closed the door, leaving one Harry Evan on the mercy of the rowdy bunch that were considered to be the top pilots. Or was it the wannabe flying brats to the mercy of Evan? Viper chuckled a small, dark chuckle at the though. The cadets wouldn't know what hit them...
Harry turned to the class. Green eyes screened through the men, leaving them uncomfortable. "Sit down." He commanded, casually shuffling his map.
The crowd sat down, still stunned at the audacity of the green-eyed instructor. The man was small, almost petite, and clad in khaki pants and button-down khaki shirt, like any other pilot, but without any insignias to denote his rank. His black hair was messy, and pulled into a small ponytail, one more oddity, along with the stylish oval glasses with silver rim. His skin was lightly tanned and in the hollow of his throat, he wore a small beaded necklace.
"I am Harry Evans, your instructor, and that is all you need to know," The man announced, looking over them again. "I want each of you stand up, and introduce themselves, first their surname, name and second their call sign... and then sit down." He carelessly motioned to Wolfman to begin.
Iceman watched the petite man with slightly narrowed eyes. This... Harry Evans looked like a punk that escaped from the school and wanted to play soldiers. Well, if he wanted to do... that, he was in for a rude awakening.
However, he was also curious about the new instructor. Evans seemed to be on a good terms with Viper, and that alone prompted Iceman to be careful. Whoever could bear along with the grumpy old man had to be tough as nails, or completely whacko in their head - still, he couldn't help but appraise the man's appearance. Iceman was something of a neat freak, always wanting to be in control of... something. It was useful trait, when there were lives, depending on you... and not so useful when the same trait made you twitch minutely at the comrades' moments of sloppiness, intended or not. What? He liked order!
One Pete Mitchell, nicknamed Maverick, wanted to sulk. It was unfair! He was barely tapping into... that, and the bastards had to relocate Charlie elsewhere! It was so not fair!
True, there were many other chickadees to pursue, but... it was a thing of principle! He nearly winced as the green eyes zeroed on him.
For some reason, he got a feeling that this instructor wouldn't be as merciful as Charlie...
Highway to the Danger Zone
Ride into the Danger Zone
Headin' into twilight
Spreadin' out her wings tonight
Black eyes bugged out. "Is he MAD!" Wolfman screeched out. Iceman and Maverick were in a pickle, and Gryffin was twiddling his thumbs? "Gryff wouldn't - !"
"Did you say Gryff?" The helicopter pilot asked. More like demanded, but yeah. Wolfman nodded. "Yeah. They got Ice and Mav up here with me an' Gryff as a support. "
The heli's pilot barked with amused laughter. "Then you don't have to worry. Yer lil' friends are safe." Wolfman gritted his teeth. "And how do YOU know about that?" He demanded sourly.
"Because I flew with that little shit," the pilot explained, calmly steering helicopter. "The brat may not look like it, but he sure can fly. His battle callsign isn't El Loco for nothing.
Wolfman blinked. "Loco... You mean mad?" He asked slowly. And then, it hit him. "Are you telling me they are up here – " he pointed at the sky – " - with officially craziest pilot ever to fly pretty little ringlets around them?" He finished his voice high.
The pilot nodded, humming cheerfully. "Ayup." He replied happily.
Wolfman hit the roof. "ARE YOU MAD?" He roared out, scared out of his piss.
The pilot smirked. "Yes. To fly with Loco, ya hafta be."
With a strange sound, similar to a defeated whine, Wolfman collapsed back on his seat, grabbing his hair.
She got you jumpin' off the track
And shovin' into overdrive
Highway to the Danger Zone
I'll take you
They returned. Ice and Mav childishly buzzed the control tower, while Harry calmly parked his bird to its designated place and sneaked away.
The petite man wasn't big on celebrations, and besides, he felt the two greenhorns deserved their part of fame. Smiling ruefully, he stripped himself off his flying suit and changed back into his working clothes.
Right into the Danger Zone
You'll never say hello to you
Until you get it on the red line overload
You'll never know what you can do
Until you get it up as high as you can go
They were happy to be back, but something was missing.
"I didn't believe the old fart, but you two had the biggest luck ever," Wolfman addressed them seriously.
Mav blinked. "Uh, yeah. Gryff helped," He agreed cautiously.
Wolfman made a strangled sound at the Gryff's callsign. "Yeah. Listen, you two. This is only among the three of us, capisce?" He growled out.
Iceman straightened. "About Gryff?" He inquired. "Is he alright?"
Wolfman snorted. "Better than alright. But listen, when I was up here, I mentioned our dear ol' Gryff to the heli's pilot." He paused. "And he told me not to worry, because you two are safe"
Mav snorted. "Safe? Yeah, right, with twelve MIG's hot on our tails, it's a wonder we got out safe – "
" – Because you flew with Loco." Wolfman's interruption snapped Mav's mouth shut.
"Are you telling us that Gryffin is Loco?" Iceman asked slowly, is ice blue eyes wide with surprise.
Wolfman nodded slowly. "Maverick inhaled sharply. "No wonder," He said quietly. "Christ... He could have had us for breakfast, couldn't he?" He asked quietly.
Iceman nodded solemnly. "The trophy should've been his," He agreed softly. Gryff's – Loco's - flight was something out of this world. In the Top Gun, he may have done mistakes and was average at best – at least for instructor – but out here, he was unreachable.
Wolfman eyed the two pilots sombrely. "Just... Keep that to yourself, alright?" He asked quietly. Both pilots nodded. "We will." They promised, still dazed with discovery.
Out along the edges
Always where I burn to be
The further on the edge
The hotter the intensity
Harry yawned as he stretched his body out. Some quality sleep wouldn't be amiss, he mused fuzzily. Flying was fun, but even he needed some rest after popping six of those bastards odd the sky. "Going to sleep already... Loco?" Harry stiffened at the loathed nickname. He looked at the intruders.
Mav and Ice.
He sighed. "Should have known," He grumbled out grumpily. "Who opened their big, fat gob now?" He moved to unbutton his button down shirt. He heard some shuffling and then, the cabin door was locked down. Harry was the lucky bastard who got the cabin with single bed, while others had to share their meagre space with their RIO's. The unofficial secret was, Harry was given this cabin, because he was ranked higher... although nobody knew his exact rank.
"Does it matter?" Iceman muttered dryly. Harry snorted. "Yes. Unlike you two, I don't want to be mobbed if the crew discovers they have El Loco on this damned ship." He replied archly.
"Shy?" Maverick teased. Harry groaned. "No. I just don't like attention," He grumbled out petulantly. He felt the warmth of two bodies pressing against his.
"Well, you'll be Gryffin to us. Our Gryff." Ice muttered lowly, as he embraced the smaller man. "Thanks."
Harry shrugged. "It was nothing." He murmured, as Mav nuzzled his neck. Dark brown and ice blue eyes met above his head in silent understanding.
Highway to the Danger Zone
Gonna take you
Harry scowled. "Kazansky! Mitchell!" He barked out. "What's the meaning of this?" He pointed to the four duffel bags in front of his door. He wasn't a morning person, he would have to deal with another bunch of dunderheads who thought that they were hotshot deal of the century, and he still didn't get his morning intake of extra strong coffee.
Maverick smiled mischievously, while Ice just smirked.
"Yo, Gryff. We are new teachers for the Top Gun program." He told the still grumpy green-eyed man cheerfully. "Sadly, the instructor barracks are full; mind lodging us for a while?"
Harry blinked owlishly. "You are the new instructors Viper was babbling about?" He asked incredulously.
"Yes, we are, Harry," Iceman spoke warmly.
They watched, as the previous grumpiness fled in wake of sheer delight.
"Come in on, then," Harry invited the duo, smiling. "Mi casa es su casa."
"What does that mean?" Maverick, the ever-curious one, asked. Harry smiled a small, shy smile. "My home is your home."
Iceman kissed the wits out of the man for his offer.
Not that Harry minded.
Right into the Danger Zone
Highway to the Danger Zone
"MA-AV!" The recruits heard the roar and winced sympathetically. "Do the buzzing AGAIN, and I swear, there will be no lasagna for you tonight!"
"But Gryff!" Maverick's whine was childish. "I just HAD to – "
Viper chuckled at the instructors' antics. "Won't you do something about it?" The stern General asked. Viper shook his head. "Nope," He answered brightly. "Maverick will behave. Besides, there's still Gryff if Mav goes too far."
The general blinked. "Gryff?" He parroted, confused. Viper nodded. "My successor. Better known as El Loco, or simply Loco," He noted cheerfully.
The general paled. "I don't know whether I should be happy or afraid for the next generations," he muttered out dryly.
Viper had to laugh at the point-blank assessment.
"At least pilots would be exceptional," He offered mildly.
General only groaned, massaging his temples.
/The End - Owari/