Work Text:
Iceman and Maverick entered Iceman’s office.
They stood at the desk and looked at the files sitting on top.
It was time to choose the next Top Gun class. They flipped through them, pulling out ones that looked like good prospects.
Bradshaw (Maverick hesitated on this one, but finally placed it in the accepted pile).
Trace.
Seresin.
Grenier.
That last name stopped Iceman in his tracks.
Maverick watched the blood drain from Iceman’s face.
He cautiously opened the file and the face that had haunted him for decades was staring up at him.
She looked exactly as she had in the 80’s, down to the defiant look in her eye. “It’s her.”
Maverick glanced over his shoulder. “Mongoose.”
“Minx.”
“She did tell us she wasn’t from our time.”
Iceman chuckled. “No wonder she was such a good pilot. She’d already gone through the training.”
“Not to mention that she said learned from me.”
But Mongoose had been very cagey with what she revealed and the men had seen enough time travel movies to understand why.
Maverick took the file from him and placed it in the accepted pile.
“She could be hurt or killed!” Iceman argued.
“But she wasn’t. otherwise she wouldn’t have been able to meet us in the first place. She said it was after her, Rooster, and Hangman became a squadron and that hasn’t happened yet,” Maverick reasoned with him.
Iceman finally nodded and they went back to looking at the files.
Once Maverick had left, Iceman glanced through Mongoose’s file again. He read about her schooling and her family and what she had accomplished. He would have been very proud to be have been…
Iceman sighed and pulled a wooden box off the shelf. It contained all the letters he’d written to her over the years.
In the bottom, was a letter he’d read many times over the years. He’d taken it with him on deployments and read it when he was feeling lonely. He was teased by his fellow pilots, but he always claimed it was from an old sweetheart, which wasn’t a complete lie.
He carefully unfolded it and began to read again.
Dear Ice,
I didn’t know how to tell you this, so I settled for putting it in a letter instead. My name is Noel Grenier and I’m from the future. 30 years in the future. In the future you’re a four-star Admiral, which is how I knew you. Admiral Tom “Iceman” Kazansky, uncle to Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw. That’s right. Rooster is Goose’s son. Funny how their callsigns are so similar. You may not believe all this now, but you will one day. If by some chance I’m ever sent back, please look after Bradley for me? Be there for him because he’ll need it. I won’t spoil anything for you, but Maverick does something pretty stupid and he’ll need someone in his corner. I already told Mav about being from the future because I kind of let it slip. Sorry. If you don’t want anything to do with me after this letter, I’ll understand. I’ll strike out on my own and make sure you never see me again, but if you still wanna be with me I’ll meet you at the O Club when we get back to California.
Your Minx
Iceman set the letter back in the box and placed it back on the shelf. He looked at the file on his desk and smiled.
This Mongoose wasn’t his, but once she had been.
“Welcome to Top Gun, princess. We’ll meet again soon.”