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It’s been a long year. The spring air is starting to fade and bringing with it memories that turn Maverick’s stomach.
He thinks back to last summer, the heat of California a distant memory from where he stands, on an airstrip in Virginia. Carole had waved goodbye from the parking lot, Bradley’s hand in hers, and a sad smile on her face.
Maverick should’ve known being an instructor wouldn’t be for him. He wanted it to work, wanted to be able to stay in one place for the first time, belong somewhere permanent for once in his life. But it had petered out. 3 months, that was how long it lasted. 3 months, and he was back to drifting between assignments, clandestine missions in every part of the world, a dozen different commanding officers and a thousand different faces.
This was an opportunity for him. He’d be back on a carrier, for a few months at least. Being away from Carole and Bradley was going to be hard, he knew it would be, but at least from the carrier he could know exactly when he’d talk to them again, see them again. He exhaled. This was going to be a good thing.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
The carrier was a formidable thing. Maverick had spent plenty of time on aircraft carriers in his time, but this was something else. It had taken its maiden voyage in the fall of ‘85, and still shone in the sunlight like new. Maverick was joining the crew partway through its current deployment, the ship already having already been at sea for the past 2 months. It’d be another 4 before he’d see the shore again.
Sea air bites into the back of his throat as he steps out onto the deck. He’d missed that more than he’d realised.
There to greet him is Commander Walter King, callsign “Rex”. Rex is a stern man with a mustache Maverick is sure isn’t entirely up to regulation standards. After a very long and tedious rant about how Maverick is only here because of the glowing recommendation Rex received from an old friend of his, none other than Viper himself, and that he is to cross no lines whilst on board, Maverick is set loose to deposit his small collection of personal belongings before a mandatory briefing.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
After safely stashing a few photos he likes to keep close, the only things he bothered to bring with him, he makes his way to the briefing, being sure to acquaint himself with the overwhelming complex of corridors as best as he can as he walks.
Taking an empty seat near the front, he glances around the room. Not everyone has arrived yet, and he silently smiles at not being the last to enter the room. He does his best to sit still as the last of the officers file into their seats. He doesn’t know anyone here, with Merlin yet to arrive, and having taken the time to glance around the room, hasn’t seen any faces he recognises. It would seem his reputation precedes him, though, as many of the younger officers loudly whisper among themselves and stare over at Maverick, who takes great joy in meeting their eyes and watching them turn their heads away instantaneously, knowing they’ve been caught.
There’s still some space on the row directly in front of Maverick as Commander King makes his way to the front, followed closely by two men who file into the empty seats.
Maverick’s thoughts stop in their tracks. He knows the men sitting in front of him, that much was sure. He’s not sure there’s anyone else in the navy who could get away with frosted tips like those.
“Iceman” he breathes, barely a whisper, but apparently audible enough to catch the man’s attention. Ice turns to face him, taking a moment to look Maverick up and down before smiling smoothly and nodding in greeting. Maverick grins back.
A cough from the front of the room and the sound of papers shuffling pulls them back to reality. Rex is preparing to start his spiel, and Maverick listens as everyone in the room shuffles to sit up straighter in their seats.
“Alright, you guys all know the drill by now. We’re running as a base of operations in the area until the carrier is due to return to shore for a maintenance check. Nothing new on that front, you’ll all be glad to hear.” Various groans echo around the room. There was always something to do on a carrier, but going this long with no action made everyone go a little stir crazy. Relief washes over Maverick that he’d shown up late to the party. Maybe now, things would really get started.
“In other news, some of you may have noticed a new face among you today. I’d like to introduce Lieutenant Pete Mitchell, callsign “Maverick”. He’ll be with us for the remainder of this deployment.” As the Commander makes this announcement, the whispers from the back of the room grow louder once more, swiftly cut off by a series of stern looks from the other higher ups in the room.
Rex continues. “Later this evening we’ll also be joined by his RIO, who I’m sure you’ll all have a chance to meet soon enough. That’s all for today.” He finishes his speech, picking up his meagre collection of papers and leaving the room, the other senior officers in tow.
As he stands to leave, Maverick is jolted by an arm swinging around his shoulders, and the familiar sound of Slider’s voice a lot too close to his ear. “Mav! What’re the odds we’d run into you all the way out here.”
Ice speaks from behind them. “Clearly non-zero.”
Slider ignores him. “It’s been too long, man. We’re gonna have fun out here.”
“Yeah we are.” Mav smiles. After what went down their first day on the Enterprise, the three of them had grown closer in the short time before Maverick was shipped back to Miramar to instruct. It was hard not to, after going through everything they had together. Maverick couldn’t help but enjoy that “Iceman” had thawed a little around him since their time at Top Gun. He definitely preferred things now that Ice respected him.
Ice pushes in front of them and Maverick takes the opportunity to speak to him directly. “So, Lieutenant Kazansky. You didn’t miss me too much, I hope.”
“You’d like that, Mitchell.” Ice retorts, a sly grin lighting up his eyes.
“And that’s Lieutenant Commander Kazansky to you, Mav.” Slider pipes up
Maverick mentally slaps himself in the forehead. He should’ve guessed Ice would’ve made LCDR by now, the way he works. “Of course. My apologies, your highness.” Maverick feigns a bow to ice, partly as an excuse to escape from the headlock Slider still has him in. “I must not have got the memo.” he jokes, earning another smile from Ice.
They reach the bunks and stop outside the door. Slider yawns theatrically and announces that he needs a nap, leaving the other two alone in the corridor.
“It really has been too long, Ice. It’s good to see you.”
“You too, Maverick. I’ll look forward to flying with you again, but right now I could use a nap aswell. You guys arriving has scored me an afternoon off, and I’d hate to waste a chance to catch up on some sleep.”
Maverick grins wider than ever, pulling the door open and gesturing for Ice to enter. “Well then, Lieutenant Commander, ladies first.”
Ice shakes his head jokingly at Mav and breathes a small laugh before heading to his bunk.
Which turns out to be the one above Mav’s. Because fate is, after all, a fickle creature. Four months is beginning to feel shorter already.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Maverick shuffles into the empty bottom bunk and shuffles around, trying to get as comfortable as is possible in one of these. He pulls the blanket over his face in an effort to ignore the low ceiling above him. He’s always felt claustrophobic on ships, but he’s learned to ignore it over the years. He usually manages to negotiate his way into the top bunk, helping him feel less trapped. This time, he decides against it. He has a feeling negotiating with Ice would not go well for him, no matter how good terms they’re on right now. Not to mention Ice would see right through him as to the reason. He doesn’t need anyone making a bigger deal out of it than necessary.
He continues to shift and turn until he finally manages to drift off. Dreams are something he’s used to by now, though the nightmares are newer. He had them as a kid, his subconscious providing him with a hundred scenarios of what might have really happened to his dad. He grew out of them for the most part, until last summer. Now nearly every night he finds himself back in the sky above Southern California, in a dead spin he knows his best friend won’t make it out of.
In his dream, they eject from the plane, and he jolts awake. It must have been a few hours, because almost everyone else has left the room. Mav glances around, seeing Slider still snoring in the top bunk opposite him.
Letting his eyes adjust to the dim light of the bunk room, Maverick reaches under his pillow and withdraws the photos he brought from home. He’s still a little shaky from the nightmare, and knows this helps.
The first in the stack is a picture from years ago, him and Goose in uniform. The day they graduated flight school. They both have huge smiles on their faces, and Mav knows it’s Carole on the other side of the camera. He remembers the day like it was yesterday, but the emotions of it feel distant, faded.
The next photo is from last summer. Goose and Carole with their arms around each other and Mav holding Bradley in one arm, the other around Charlie’s shoulders. Their relationship hadn’t lasted, but they stayed on good terms. She’d taken the job in DC, and with Maverick sent all over the world and spending much of his time on shore with Carole and Bradley, the decision to end things made sense for both of them. Still, it stung a little to see them so happy together.
Last is their class photo from Top Gun. It was hard, looking at Goose in his uniform, so hopeful about the opportunity they’d been given. But it also served as a reminder of the last weeks they’d spent together, some of the best of Mav’s life. He wishes more than anything that he could have a few more weeks with Goose, hell, even five more minutes.
He sighs and lays back in the bunk, figuring he has nothing better to do until Merlin shows up anyways. As he closes his eyes, he hears the man above him turn over. He’d assumed Ice had left already, never wanting to waste time resting that could be spent working.
Ice clears his throat. “You good, Mitchell?” he’s clearly been awake for a while. Must have been listening to Maverick
“Yeah. Just a dream.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure. What time is it?”
Ice knows when not to push. “1700. Merlin should be here within the hour. We should probably head up soon.”
Maverick groans and hauls himself out of his bunk, stretching painfully and shuffling out of the way to let Ice get down as he pulls on his shoes.
“I hope you don’t think I’m gonna volunteer to wake Slider. I know how well that’s worked for Hollywood in the past.”
“Nah, he doesn’t need to be there for this.” Ice answers as they start making their way up to the deck.
“And you do?”
“The wonders of being promoted. They want me to keep an eye on you two.”
“Then how come you weren’t there when I landed.” Mav asks, the slight sarcasm in his tone enough to make Ice laugh softly.
“That, my dearly beloathed wingman, would be on the authority of Commander King. He told me he “wanted to have a word with you alone.” I can imagine how that went.”
Maverick cringes. “Yeah, about as well as you’d think. A lot about responsibility and being on my “best behaviour.” I’m sure the guy is a real riot at parties.”
“You get used to it. It’s mostly empty threats, from what I’ve seen.” Ice reassures him. “He’ll probably cool off in a week or two, so long as you don’t piss him off too badly.”
“I’ll make no such promises.” Mav announces, making Ice sigh loudly.
“Same as ever, huh, Mitchell.”
“I try, I try.”
“Well, try not to get on his bad side, then. He’s a decent guy underneath all the scare tactics.”
Maverick nods “What’ve you been up to since the Enterprise anyways?”
“Been here and there. Stayed on the ship until the spring, pulled some strings to get some leave before my promotion. What about you? Being an instructor didn’t work out?”
“Hey, I lasted 3 months! That’s pretty good given my track record. As for everything that happened between then and now, I could tell you, but I’d have to kill you.”
Ice bumps their shoulders together “Nice try, Mav, but that line isn’t gonna work on me.”
“Honestly, I got sent to so many places that it’s a bit of a blur. They offered me something more permanent, so I took it. I liked the work, but not knowing when I’d be home was getting harder to manage. At least from here I can call home sometimes, and I know I’ll be back there in 4 months, if everything goes okay.”
“Carole and Bradley doing alright?” Ice asks, and Maverick notes the uncertainty in the way he speaks. Family hasn’t really been something they’ve talked about before, but Mav figures there’s no reason it can’t be from now on.
“As well as they can be, yeah. It’s still not easy, never will be, but things are getting better. I could swear Bradley’s twice as tall as he was last year.” He smiles to himself. “He’s a little singer, too. Just like his Dad.”
“You must miss him a lot.”
“All the time. I don’t think I’ll ever stop. Not that I’d ever want to.”
They’ve reached the deck. Ice hesitates for a second before placing a hand gently on Mav’s arm. “He’d be proud of you. I know I didn’t know him like you did, but I do know that.”
Maverick nods “Thanks, Ice.”
They’re interrupted by the rapid approach of footsteps echoing from the stairs they’d just climbed. Ice withdraws his hand swiftly and they turn to face Commander King, who is making a beeline for where Merlin is due to land any minute.
He barks out “Kazansky, Mitchell. Follow me.” and the pair do as he says, heading out into the open and waiting for the sound of helicopter blades, heralding Merlin’s arrival.
It’s been a while since Maverick has seen Merlin, with many of the shorter assignments he was on being solo. He doesn’t mind flying alone, but it’ll be good to have a RIO again. He and Merlin get along well, most of the time.
After he lands, Ice walks with them as far as the bunks heads to the showers, leaving Maverick to help get Merlin settled in. Merlin takes the bunk below Slider’s, careful not to wake the somehow still sleeping man. The two men then head to the mess, neither of them having eaten since they were last on dry land.
The mess hall is busy, and it takes a few seconds for Mav to scan the crowd before he spots Ice, who has somehow managed to keep the seats around him vacant for them to join him.
Maverick and his RIO wait in line and get their food, then take the seats opposite Ice, who is flicking through paperwork attentively, chewing the inside of his cheek as he does so. He grunts in greeting without looking up.
“You not eaten yet, Ice?” Merlin asks, his mouth already full. “Man, I have not missed the food out here.”
“Not yet. Slider and I have a deal about leftovers, so I usually wait for him. He still asleep when you left?”
Mav laughs, “Take a wild guess.”
Ice sighs as he scrawls something onto one of the pages in front of him.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Slider joins them eventually, though it’s not until after Mav and Merlin have finished eating. He waves to Ice from the doorway and Ice returns his papers to their folder before heading over to meet slider at the queue
The four men spend the next while catching each other up on all their most daring manoeuvres in the time since they last saw each other. Even Ice isn’t one to miss an opportunity to brag a little.
Maverick can’t help but notice Ice barely picking at his food as they talk. He raises an eyebrow questioningly at Ice “Long day. Not that hungry.”
Mav is getting better at knowing when not to push, especially when it comes to Ice.
“Here, Slider, you have the rest.” the man’s eyes light up as he’s passed the remainder of Ice’s (now cold) meal.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
The next few days are a blur, though nothing exciting happens. Maverick and Merlin get a rundown of where on the ship they’re allowed to go, Slider, in his boredom, tags along. Ice is missing a lot of the time, his new duties keeping him far busier than the Lieutenants. He gets up for meetings before the rest of them and is gone when they wake up, then they only catch glimpses of him at meetings most of the time. He joins them for meals when he can, but usually has to leave early. It’s still more than Mav has seen him in nearly a year, so he’s not one to complain.
By the end of the first week, they still haven’t been sent up in the air, and Maverick is beginning to go stir-crazy. It’s one thing not being able to fly when he’s on leave, but at least then he has Carole and Bradley to keep him sane. Being here, on the carrier, cooped up below decks unable to smell the sea air is a whole other can of worms.
He’s tapping his fingers on the cover of a book he’s lost focus on when the idea comes to him. Merlin is trying to sleep in the bunk opposite and Slider is once again fast asleep. What Maverick wouldn’t give to have that ability of Slider’s.
“Hey, Merlin.”
Merlin groans. “What, Mitchell.”
“I have an idea.”
This response warrants an even louder groan from Merlin, who pulls the covers down from over his face and gives Maverick a look of utter exasperation. “No. Absolutely not. Whatever it is, we’re not doing it.”
Before he finishes speaking, there’s already a cunning twinkle in Mav’s eyes. Merlin knows it’s too late. Whatever it is, they’re doing it.
“You got any idea where Ice is right now?”
“Nope. And I’m not gonna help you find him.”
“C'mon… I’m gonna need my RIO for this.”
Merlin rolls his eyes “And why, exactly, is that?” He regrets asking, as Maverick climbs out from his bunk and walks out the door without a word.
Not wanting to let Maverick get them both in even more trouble, Merlin knows it’s easier to play along. At least then he can keep said trouble from escalating too much, and keep their stories straight when they eventually need them. Grumbling to himself, he hauls himself out of his bunk, pulling on his shoes and following Mav out into the winding corridors.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
It takes them at least two hours to find Ice, though neither of them stops to check the time.
It’s by some miracle that they do track him down, and when they do, he’s holed up in a tiny storage closet with a book in his hands and thoroughly displeased at the sight of the two men in the doorway.
“Ice! Jeez, how’d you find this place?” Maverick is glancing around the cramped space with a vexed expression.
“I could ask you the same question, Lieutenants.”
“You could. But you should not. We need your help with something.”
Ice sighs, long suffering, and shakes his head. “I have better things to do than hold the other end of your toddler harness, Maverick. Now go back to whatever you were doing before.”
“Come on, man, we’ve barely seen you since we got here. We haven’t been allowed up in the air or even on the flight deck all week! You’ve gotta help us out.”
“By “us” I assume you mean you? I doubt Merlin here is particularly bothered about that, given that he’s not a maniac like you, Mav.”
Merlin nods enthusiastically in agreement, raising his hands in a gesture of innocence. “I’m just here to keep him out of trouble.”
“Ice, if you can get us up in the air, I’ll do all your cleaning duties for a week.”
“No.”
“A month—”
“Not a chance, Mitchell.”
“I’ll…” Maverick pauses to consider what bribes he can play “... I’ll get you the good tobacco the senior officers have.”
This catches Ice’s attention. “How exactly do you plan on doing that?”
“I have my ways.”
Ice furrows his brow “And what ways would that be?”
“A magician never reveals his secrets.” Maverick says through a barely contained laugh.
“Fine. What is it you want me to do, exactly?”
“We’re going to do some very important scouting work. On your authority, of course.”
Ice closes his book and stands awkwardly, not having much space to manoeuvre. “You’ll get the good tobacco.”
“Yes sir, Absolutely, sir.”
“ And you’ll do all my cleaning duties. For a month.”
Present Maverick is far too busy celebrating his expert negotiation to care about what that will mean for Future Maverick.
Right now, all that matters is that – if all goes well – he’s getting back up in the air.
He pulls Ice into a too-tight hug, half spinning the other man around in excitement. Ice goes still for a moment in his surprise, then registers what’s happening and reciprocates, wrapping his arms around Mav for a long moment before pulling away.
He holds out his hand for Maverick to shake. “I’m only doing this for the tobacco. And on the condition that I get to go up with you.”
“Well, that’s a given. I’m not gonna leave behind my wingman.” Maverick shakes Ice’s hand, sealing the deal.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
It barely takes Iceman twenty minutes to pull the right strings and fill the right forms to get their airtime approved. Charisma has always been one of his strongest skills, and it seems that in the time since Maverick last worked with him, he’s really starting to master the art of persuasion.
Within an hour, they’re out on the flight deck, wind in their hair and ready to take to the skies.
The first flight after a long time on the ground is always especially exhilarating, and Maverick feels the burn of the salty air in the back of his throat stronger than ever.
He exhales excitedly as he climbs into the cockpit, squinting in the setting sunlight to look over at Ice. Their eyes meet for a fleeting moment. They’re where they’re meant to be.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Their “important scouting” involves an awful lot of aerobatic tricks the guys on the other end of the comms don’t sound particularly pleased with. Fuck them, Maverick thinks, watching the sky turn from blue, to orange, to burning red as he and Ice fly in loops around each other, diving up and down on each other’s wing, laughing and talking until their fuel starts to run low and they’re forced to land.
It takes a while to come down from the adrenaline high, and when he does, it’s a crash worse than Maverick has experienced before.
His entire body aches, and the burning sensation in the back of his throat from earlier has gotten even worse, even now he’s back below decks. He peels off his sweat soaked flight suit and throws it onto a hook on the wall before switching on the shower. The heat of the water soothes the aching a little, though not nearly enough. He stands looking up at the ceiling, letting his hair fall onto his forehead as the gel keeping it in place washes down the drain.
After a long time, longer than he’s probably allowed to stay in here, the water turns ice cold with no warning, shocking him back into the moment. He shuts off the water as fast as he can, but is still left shivering as he pulls his towel around him. Just his luck.
When he finally climbs into his bunk, the ache is blurring into the background, but still as strong as ever. His lungs feel like concrete, and the burning in his throat is growing worse. He writes it off, figuring it must be from all the yelling and laughing earlier, combined with the salt.
He tries his best to ignore it as he closes his eyes, determined to get some sleep before the heist he’ll have to start planning tomorrow. Hearing the man in the bunk above him moving, he half-whispers “Thank you for today, Ice.”
There’s a moment's silence before the reply. Ice’s voice, hoarse and exhausted, sounds from above him. “Get some sleep, Mitchell.”
Maverick could swear he hears Ice’s smile in his voice. He exhales, letting the exhaustion pull him under
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Maverick’s sleep is fitful, though mercifully dreamless. He must stir at some point in the night, because he’s sure he hears Ice slip out of his bed and leave the room. Merlin and Slider are still fast asleep, as are the rest of the men in their bunks.
Ice is gone when Maverick wakes up. He wonders how the hell Ice can run on the amount of sleep he must be getting, what with all the early meetings and long days. Mav thinks about what Goose once told him about how Ice works. “Ice cold, no mistakes.”, he’d said. It’s a reputation he continues to uphold.
Maverick takes a moment to look at his photos again, the action having become routine to him over the last year. He reminds himself why he’s here.
As he shuffles through them, something red falls from between them.
He gently picks it up and squints in the dim light of the bunk room. It’s a petal. A carnation, he thinks. Blood red, and entirely out of place. He can’t remember a time he’d ever seen a living plant or bouquet of flowers in a place like this.
A prank, he thinks. Or maybe one of the other guys they were bunking with had brought it from home? It feels too fresh, the edges too pristine, not even beginning to wilt.
There must be some simple explanation, he knows that much. He has other things to worry about right now. The other men are beginning to stir and a few are getting ready for the day already. He stashes the petal in the pocket of his uniform trousers and decides to investigate it somewhen else. After all, he has a heist to plan.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Heist might be an overstatement, but nevertheless, Mav has to make sure he isn’t caught. Stealing from the senior officers could get him seriously reprimanded, and he’s not looking to have that happen. It’s not like they’re going to miss a little tobacco anyways.
Nearly two weeks pass, and Maverick spends them memorising routes and routines. He manages to secure a little more time in the air, though Ice isn’t able to join him again.
Once he’s sure he has the best chance of success, he decides to go for it. There’s only a handful of senior officers assigned to each area of the ship, so avoiding them should be easy.
On his way to the scene of his intended crime, he runs into Ice. Maverick is inconspicuously snooping around near Commander King’s office when Ice puts a hand on his shoulder from behind, making him jump.
“Mitchell. You should be more careful sneaking around where you’re not supposed to be. You’re lucky it was me who caught you.”
“Ice, is the intensity really necessary? You know full well why I’m down here.”
“I know no such thing, Mitchell. Careful what you imply.” He barely needs to try to hide his true emotion on the matter. As always, his expression is effortlessly ice-cold, serious. But Maverick knows him too well. There’s an edge of humour in his voice, so subtle anyone who didn’t know Ice like he did would never notice. Maverick meets his eyes and smirks playfully.
Ice lowers his voice. “So, I take it your “magician’s secrets” haven’t panned out yet?”
“Genius takes time, Lieutenant Commander. Surely you know that.”
Shaking his head in lighthearted exasperation, Ice continues “So long as this “genius” you speak of doesn’t get himself caught.” he says as he turns and starts to head down the corridor. “Good luck, Maverick.”
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Once he’s sure Rex is nowhere nearby, Mav enters the office, the door graciously unlocked.
Checking over his shoulder every few seconds, he searches the desk drawers for his quarry. There are a number of important looking papers he has absolutely no interest in, at least 5 pens that have run out of ink and been tossed back into the drawer instead of being thrown away.
Underneath all of that, Maverick finds what he’s looking for. He liberates a single packet, not wanting to draw too much attention to his misdeeds, and starts to head for the door.
As he reaches for the handle, the door begins to open towards him and he’s face to face with Commander King.
“Mitchell. What exactly are you doing in my office?”
Maverick flounders for a second, thinking up an adequate excuse. “Looking for you, sir. I wanted to ask you about something.”
“And what would that be?” Rex raises an eyebrow
Putting on a military-regulation smile and standing up as straight as he can, Maverick gives his best performance, “I wondered if I’d be able to help out Lieutenant Commander Kazansky with some of his duties. We work well together, I’m sure you’ve heard. I think it’d be a good way to challenge my skills, sir.”
Rex sighs at him. “If you’re that eager to take on extra duties, I’m not going to be the one to stop you. You’ll need to get Kazansky to sign off on you shadowing him.”
“Yes sir, of course, sir.” Maverick replies. “Permission to be dismissed, sir?”
“Alright, you’re dismissed.”
Maverick can’t get out the door fast enough. He hears Rex call out from behind him “Mitchell, next time you need something, you can wait outside my office.”
“Got it, Commander.” he says, disguising the elation in his voice. He’s gotten away with it.
Now there’s the matter of explaining all this to Ice.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
After checking all their usual haunts, Maverick makes his way up to the storage closet he and Merlin had found Ice holed up in a few weeks ago, knowing that’s where he’ll find his wingman hiding out.
He knocks out a tune on the door and opens it, finding Ice once again surrounded by papers. There’s a small space on the floor opposite him, and Mav takes it upon himself to claim it, awkwardly stepping over papers as Ice frantically tries to gather them up into some kind of order. “Mitchell, you can see I’m working—”
“And I am sure that work is very important,” Mav interrupts, sitting down in the cramped space, knees knocking against the other man’s, “But I have something far more important” he withdraws the pack of tobacco from his pocket and presenting it to Iceman with a prize-winning grin. “Your contraband, my liege.”
Ice looks genuinely impressed, reaching out to take it from Maverick, who snatches it back— “Hold on. I have an addendum to our bargain.” This warrants an eye roll from Ice. “What’d you do?”
“Why do you always assume I did something!”
“Because usually, you did.”
Maverick resigns himself. His wingman knows him too well. “Okay, fine. The Commander caught me in his office.”
“He saw you take it?”
“No, I’m far too good for that.” Mav reassures him, “He just… came in right as I was leaving.”
The look on Ice’s face is not one Maverick ever wishes to have directed at him again. “Listen, Tom—
Ice’s gaze softens. They don’t often call each other by first names, and it catches him off guard. He shifts, placing the stack of papers down on a shelf next to him. “Okay, tell me what happened.”
“I needed an excuse for why I was in there.” Maverick shifts nervously where he’s sat, the limited space between them making his legs brush against Ice’s lightly.
“And that excuse was?”
“That I was looking for extra duties—and now he wants me to shadow someone of a higher rank than me.”
Iceman’s hands cover his face for a moment before he drags them down, his expression conveying what Maverick assumes to be irritation, though he’s not sure—there’s a hint of something else underneath. Mav decides he’s better off not knowing what.
“He wants you to shadow me , doesn’t he?”
“Listen, Ice, I’m really sorry—”
“You know how busy I’ve been lately, I don’t know how I’m meant to do everything I need to get done if you’re gonna be following me around everywhere.”
“You won’t even notice I’m there, that’s a promise.”
“You’re harder to ignore than I’d like to admit, Maverick.” he replies softly, almost under his breath. There’s still frustration in his voice, but the hint of something else is stronger than before—Mav thinks it might even be... fondness? No, it can’t be. They get along, sure, but Ice had always hated when Maverick took his antics too far. No, this was something else, it had to be. Didn’t it?
The tension in the tiny room is palpable, and Mav knows it’s not the right time to push. But he can’t help it, he needs to know. He shifts where he’s sat, bringing himself eye to eye with Iceman. “Ice, don’t tell me you’re fond of me—”
The response is immediate. Ice scoffs, “Keep dreaming, Mitchell.” but there it is—that undertone again, clearer than ever.
“Do you care about me, Kazansky?” he asks, doing his best to sound innocent, knowing he’s definitely pushed it too far this time. He stills, expecting Ice to push him away, or spit in his face, say anything to deny the accusation.
Instead, in the time it takes him to run through the many terrible possibilities of what is about to happen, he blinks.
In an instant Ice’s lips are on his.
Maverick freezes for a second, his brain undergoing a full reboot before he processes what’s happening, deepening the kiss as his instincts return to him, expertly placing a palm against Tom’s jaw to angle their faces together just right.
Ice pulls away, starting to say something “Pete—”
“If you’re about to apologise, Tom, I swear to god—” Ice cuts him off, and they’re entangled once more.
It lasts an impossible, fleeting moment, before Tom’s judgement gets the better of him and he separates them. “I can’t do this.”
Maverick reaches out a hand to reassure him, but Ice pushes it away. Breathless, he breaks the silence between them. “I didn’t know you were—”
“I’m not.” Ice’s words are now devoid of warmth.
“It’s alright, Ice, I won’t tell anyone. You know that, right?”
“I mean it, Mitchell. Whatever you think I am, I’m not.” the switch back to last names stings, and Maverick has no idea how to fix this.
“Tom, please, don’t do this. You don’t have to pretend.”
Ice looks at the floor. “Get out.”
Mav opens his mouth to speak, but Iceman stops him in his tracks. “Leave.”
He tries to meet Tom’s eyes again, but it’s no use. He leaves the room without a word, slamming the door behind him.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
He needs fresh air, and finds his legs carrying him out to the flight deck, his mind somewhere else entirely.
It’s evening outside, and the deck is mercifully empty as he stumbles to the edge. The butterflies in his stomach have turned to stone, and there’s an empty feeling in his chest as he stares down at the waves below
He tries to breathe deeply, but succeeds only in making himself cough painfully, as if his lungs are tearing themselves apart. Bringing a hand to his mouth, he tries to muffle the sound, knowing how exposed he is here in the open. He coughs into his palm, waiting for the coughing to subside.
His hands shake as he finally uncovers his mouth to reveal a handful of the same blood red petals he’d found before—carnations. Disbelief takes over him as he realises this must be where it came from- but he barely remembers that night- surely none of this has been real? Yet here he stands, the petals in his palm real as ever.
Trying to catch his breath, he feels another petal in the back of his throat, and gags as he tries to force it out
When he’s sure it’s over, he empties his hand off the side of the ship and tries his best to gather himself. He waits for a long time out on the deck, hoping he can avoid everyone else for now if he waits until they’re asleep. He smooths out the fabric of his uniform and decides to hit the showers.
It’s nearly midnight when he decides it’s safe to sneak into the bunk room. Ice is laying on his back in the bunk above Maverick’s, eyes closed, feigning sleep. Mav tries to say something, but he can’t think of the right words that won’t just make things worse. He places a hand softly on the other man’s shoulder, hoping Ice will interpret his meaning, a peace offering, an apology.
Instead, Iceman turns over, facing the wall, leaving Maverick’s hand left hovering in the air.
Dejected, Mav resigns himself to make an attempt at sleeping. As he stares at the backs of his eyelids, he wishes more than anything that Goose was here. He always knew exactly what to say, exactly how to fix things, if they could be fixed. If they couldn’t, he would just listen. Maverick couldn’t have asked for a better friend. Now, all he wants is to have his friend back.
He realises in his longing just how long it has been. Almost a year had gone by in what felt like the blink of an eye. People around him act like it’s a victory, that Mav has kept going all this time, that he hasn’t given up after losing Goose.
Pete never felt that. Instead, every day he spends without his friend makes the hole Goose had left behind feel all the emptier.
Carole would understand, of course. But that was of no use to Pete now, stuck out at sea, thousands of miles from her. Phone calls are a luxury he’s sparingly afforded, making calling home on a whim all too complicated. Not to mention, back home it would be early afternoon by now. She’d have taken Bradley to be looked after by a neighbour of theirs, and gone to work. It was no use.
Mav scrunches his eyes closed tighter, but sleep evades him still.
“Talk to me, Goose.”
What used to be a reassurance is now a silent prayer he knows will have no answer. He hasn’t believed in God since his mother’s death. He was barely 7 years old. He doesn’t plan to start now.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Maverick is still awake when Ice leaves in the morning. He makes no attempt to stop him. Maybe some space between them will help put this right, or at least help them both move on.
When he finally drags himself to the mess, having managed a total of maybe ten minutes sleep, he’s interrupted by Rex approaching him from across the room as he sits down to eat.
It’s now that his brain helpfully reminds him of the deal he’d struck with the Commander the previous day. Great, he thinks. His intention to give Ice the space he’s clearly already seeking is out the window. They’re about to be glued together for the foreseeable future.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
They don’t talk about what happened between them. They don’t talk about anything, really. Ice is in a state of full military professionalism, barely acting as if they know each other. The aching in Mav’s chest refuses to subside with every second they spend in this limbo.
The only mercy is that if they don’t talk, they can’t argue.
After a few days orbiting Ice, Maverick finally breaks. He needs to say something, needs to talk to someone. He knows he’s risking a lot, but he can’t help it.
Ice is about 30 minutes into a spiel about whatever menial admin task they’re supposed to be covering today when Mav interrupts him. “Ice. Can we please talk about this?”
The minute hesitation in Ice’s response goes unnoticed by Maverick. “There’s nothing to talk about, Mitchell. Drop it.”
Maverick obliges, defeated. No dice.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
That night, he knows what to expect as that awful cough claws its way to the surface once more.
Mav watches the petals wash down the drain as he stands in the shower, his focus sharpening when he notices a new splash of colour begin to appear amongst the red.
He swipes up some of the petals before they wash away, turning them over in his fingers. More carnations, the red ones same as before, now joined by yellow versions of themselves. There’s a third variation too, and it hits him in a sick realisation that he recognises them. Chrysanthemums, like the ones that had adorned his mother’s coffin. The petals in his hand are pale yellow, unlike the white he knew all too well.
He squints at them, but his exhausted brain offers him no explanation. He lets the petals disappear alongside soap suds and lukewarm water.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
The weeks draw on, the words exchanged between the two men growing fewer and further between. Maverick is released from shadowing Ice eventually, and in the week that follows, he stops seeing Ice at all. Outside of knowing the other man is sleeping above him each night, and leaving before sunrise every morning, Ice is absent from Mav’s life. Pete isn’t sure if it’s better or worse this way.
The coughing fits are now a regular occurrence for Mav, and they’re becoming harder to disguise, but he knows no one can find out. They’d write him off as a curiosity, send him to some research hospital even further from home than he already is. No, he prefers it this way. He can handle this, and no one needs to know.
Maverick is in the mess with Merlin one evening when Slider arrives, pulling him outside and announcing that they need to talk.
Once they’re stowed away somewhere quiet, Slider asks, “Have you seen Ice recently?”
Mav shrugs nonchalantly. “Nope. He’s busy, I heard. The woes of outranking us.”
Slider shakes his head. “It’s not that. He’s been busy since we were first deployed. This is different, he’s cold, distant. I’ve barely seen him since last week, and I’m his RIO. This isn’t like him.”
“Cold and distant? Iceman? I don’t know, Slider, that sounds pretty on brand.” There’s a bitterness in Maverick’s words that he doesn’t bother to disguise.
“Not like this, it doesn’t. He’d never just disappear on me like this. Something’s happened.”
“Sounds like something you should be asking him about, not me.”
“I can’t, Mav. Every time I run into him he comes up with some excuse about work, and disappears.”
“So ask him at night, in the morning, whatever. He can’t avoid you in the bunks.”
“He hasn’t been back to the bunk room in days, Mitchell.”
This, Maverick isn’t expecting. “Where else would he be?”
“I don’t know. But I know he hasn’t been there. I don’t even know if he’s been sleeping, he looked like shit when I last saw him. I haven’t seen him in the mess, either. I don’t think it’s me he needs to hear from.”
Maverick considers this for a long moment. “I think I fucked up, Slider.” He wrings his hands, not knowing how to explain what happened without breaking his promise to Ice. He can’t tell anyone about it, not even Slider. Especially not Slider.
“Is this about what happened with you two?”
Slider’s words hang in the air, and Maverick tries to formulate a response. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, come on. I’ve known Ice for years, I know how he acts when he’s in love—”
“When he’s what?”
“Okay, so, we’re going to forget I said that. But listen, I’m usually the first to know when he’s in a good mood, or a bad mood, whatever. Occupational hazard of being his RIO. I saw how much happier he was when you showed up here, and then suddenly he was miserable again, and so were you. It didn’t take a genius to connect those dots. And now you’re all quiet, and you’re never quiet. And he’s disappeared, which he’d never do unless something really fucked him up.”
Mav’s head is spinning, the information Slider just threw at him buffeting him like his own personal hurricane. “I don’t know how to fix this, Slider. He won’t even let me close enough to try.”
“You have to push past whatever wall he’s put up. I learned that the hard way.”
“Won’t that just make it worse?”
“Not if you do it right. Whenever he really leans into the whole “Iceman” thing, it’s usually because he’s avoiding confronting whatever’s actually messing with him. You have to make sure he can’t avoid it. But under absolutely no circumstances can he find out that I’m telling you this.”
“He won’t, I promise.” Maverick reassures Slider, “I’ll do what I can.”
“I’ll let you know if I see him. Good luck, Maverick. Bring him home safe?”
Maverick nods, determined, heading out into the corridors to track down his missing wingman.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
The weight in his chest is stronger than ever, but he ignores it. He has a bigger problem right now, he needs to find Ice. He has an idea of where he’ll be, but he’ll have to wait until nightfall. The ship is too busy right now, but soon enough the majority of the crew- barring those working through the night—will be headed to their bunks.
Maverick takes a moment to himself as he climbs out onto the flight deck, trying to figure out how the hell he’s going to go about this. Slider’s advice, ridiculous as it sounded, is about the most plausible idea he’s got. If Ice always knew when not to push, Mav remains the opposite.
He thinks back on the time they’d spent together. Their first weeks together, they hadn’t necessarily been the best of friends. They’d both grown up a lot since then. Their time on the Enterprise had brought them together, before they were torn apart again. It dawns on him now just how badly he’d been missing Ice in those months apart,
And that’s when it hits him. The flowers, the ache in his chest. All along, it was about Ice.
Ice, who always knew exactly which buttons to press to get what he wanted. Ice, who was going to climb the ranks further and faster than anyone before them. Ice, who respected and trusted Maverick’s instincts, even if he’d never fully understand them. Ice, who loved him back, even if he couldn’t let himself admit it.
He’s been an idiot, he knows that. Wasting all this time pushing away the notion, wasting time he could’ve spent with the love of his life. Because that’s what this is, and suddenly Mav can see the full puzzle before him. Every relationship he’s had, everything he’s been through, has brought him here.
He looks up at the stars above him and whispers. “Talk to me, Goose.”
There’s no answer, but Maverick knows now that his words aren’t lost on the wind. “You knew all along, didn’t you?” He laughs to himself. “Could’ve given me a hint, y’know.” He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I’ll let this one slide.”
A door opens behind him and he snaps his head around, finding himself face to face with Iceman.
Slider was right about him looking like shit, the bags under his eyes noticeable even in the moonlight.
Ice stills when their eyes meet, a deer in headlights. He looks like he wants to turn and run, but something freezes him in place. Maverick steps closer, and Ice remains rooted to the deck. “Mitchell, please. You shouldn’t even be out here.”
“Neither should you, Kazansky, but here we are.” Maverick speaks carefully, “We’re going to talk.”
“We’re going to get caught .” The nervous edge in Ice’s voice comes out harsh.
“Should’ve thought about that before you came up here then. Come on, I’m not letting you run away anymore.”
“That isn’t your decision to make, Mitchell. I’m going back inside.” He turns to leave, but Maverick stops him, taking the other man’s hand in his. “Ice, please. We can’t avoid this forever.”
Ice’s hands are shaking as he turns back towards Mav, “Speak for yourself, Lieutenant.”
Their hands are still held together as Maverick launches his plea,
“I need you to listen to me, Ice. I know how I feel whenever you’re not around, and I hate it.” He can feel his resolve falter, but isn’t going to stop there.
“The last few weeks not speaking to you, barely seeing you, I never want to do that again. I know where we are, what would happen if people found out. I know this is dangerous, I know this could be more complicated that anything we’ve ever faced, but I’m not just going to let you go out of fear. I know what you mean to me, Tom. I refuse to be scared of how I feel about you.”
There’s a long silence, and Pete realises that Tom’s facade is crumbling. His hands continue to shake, and Pete clasps them together in his. “I meant what I said before, Tom. You don’t need to pretend.”
It’s enough to thaw whatever is keeping Iceman’s walls held together, and he half collapses into Pete’s arms, affording himself a level of vulnerability Pete has never seen before. Ice’s breathing is uneven, his whole body shivering, and it isn’t long before his breath catches in his throat, turning into a series of rasping coughs.
Maverick lowers them to the deck, kneeling next to Ice and holding him close, running a hand through his hair as petals begin to fall the floor, every cough a flurry of yellow, blue, and purple.
They stay that way for a long time, until Ice’s breathing begins to even out. All the time, Mav whispers reassurances, keeping his arms firmly wrapped around his wingman.
Ice tries to speak, his throat hoarse, and Maverick shushes him softly, “It’s okay, you don’t need to say anything. I know. I know—” but Ice shakes his head and swallows, determined to speak.
“I’m sorry I ran. I didn’t know how you’d react… I never thought for a second that you felt the same.”
“Well, if it’s any consolation, I didn’t know, myself, either. I’ve been so stupid, Tom. All this time, and I didn’t see what was right in front of me.”
“I did. But I was scared. I’ve never wanted something so badly my whole life, and it terrified me. I’ve never been good at this kind of thing. After you got here, I let myself believe I could keep ignoring it, but it only made it worse.”
“Hold on, this started before I got here?”
Ice nods.
“How long, Ice?”
“Since you left the Enterprise.” His words hang in the air before he continues, “I didn’t know what it was at first, and it was easier to hide. But then you were here, and I hadn’t seen you in so long—”
“Tom Kazansky, you beautiful maniac.” Tom’s smile is uncharacteristically timid, and Pete can’t help himself, pulling the other man into a kiss.
This time is softer, less rushed. It’s something he’s been wanting to do for nearly a year, without knowing it. He doesn’t intend to ever stop.
“I can’t believe you went through all that over me.”
“How could I not? It’s you, Pete.”
“Still think I’m dangerous, Iceman?”
“Undoubtedly. It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
They stay there until drowsiness grows too strong, and they head back to the bunks.
As they head through the door that leads them back below decks, their intertwined hands separate. It’s something they’ll have to get used to, having to hide their true feelings from the world, and they know it’ll never get easier. They hold onto the knowledge that behind closed doors, under the moonlight, they don’t have to hide.
Everyone else is fast asleep as the two men slip into the bunk room, unaware they had even been missing. Maverick listens to Ice’s relaxed breathing in the rack above him. He reaches up a hand, finding Ice’s and squeezing it, a silent promise.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Slider is the last to show up to the mess the next morning, the other three already exchanging casual conversation over cereal. When he reaches their table, he pats Maverick on the back boisterously, walking past him to take the empty seat across the table, next to Merlin.
“Ice! Good to see you back in the real world. I see Maverick here talked some sense into you after all.”
“I’m not sure what you mean, Slider.” Ice smirks, sly and subtle. Slider grins back at him.
Merlin’s lack of inclusion in whatever telepathic conversation he’s unwillingly been caught up in is evident. “Is there something I should know about?”
The others exchange a look and begin to laugh. Everything is as it should be.