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A quiet child is never a good thing.
Carole's warning flashed through Ice's mind as he resurfaced from about an hour of reading reports. Who knew with greater authority came more paperwork? Maybe Mav was onto something with his insistence at running away (sometimes literally) from promotions.
Setting his files on the table, Ice went to investigate. He made his way through the ground floor of their small home, peaking into the half-bath as he went. A small scattering of toys lay abandoned near the coffee table while a children's book lay open on it. Sir Honk, Bradley's stuffed goose teetered precariously against the edge of the couch. The kitchen, too, was empty and just as he left it after a hearty lunch of sandwiches and Goldfish crackers. Yet, no sign of Bradley.
He checked the doors, locked. A pair of small yellow sneakers lay abandoned near the front door, further proof that the troublemaker was still inside.
Upstairs, then.
He made his way upstairs, listening intently to any noise or sounds that could tell him where Bradley had gotten too. He stepped into the kid's room, bracing himself for the veritable explosion of legos and toys that populated the floor of his room. Bradley was perhaps the most spoilt little boy this side of the Mississippi. With a bedroom in two houses - Carole's and their own - and more toys than he knew what to do with, Bradley certainly did not want for anything. Not to mention the flyboys, Viper and Carole's colleagues, who insisted on treating every small event as a reason to spoil the kid more.
In spite of all this, Bradley was a kind and considerate boy, already popular in his kindergarden class. He always had a smile for everyone, happy to share, and was more than willing to stand up for what was right. Just like Carole, that boy, and Goose.
All that was missing was the child. The lack of loud squealing meant there was only one place Bradley would have gotten to. Slowly, Ice made his way to the master bedroom and inched the door open. He immediately choked back a laugh at the sight that greeted his eyes.
There Bradley was, standing in front of their mirror, little hands placed on his hips in a move so reminiscent of his godfather. His outfit though, was what prompted the laughter. He was wearing what looked like one of Mav's signature white t-shirts with one of his flannels hanging open on top. The shirts were obviously too big, sleeves of the flannel falling way past Bradley's tiny fingers. His ducky pajama pants peaked through the trailing shirts, a hilarious contrast to the staid impression he had adopted. Bradley had apparently found one of Ice's own aviators, the tear-drop lenses covering over half his face. He also had one of their Top Gun hats jammed on his head, the brim of the cap brushing against the upper rim of the glasses.
The floor had a long line of discarded clothing, trailing towards their walk-in closet like a Fashion-Week-Hansel-and-Gretl.
"Bradley, kiddo, what is this?", Ice forced out trying to hold his laughter in. Bradley jumped almost a foot in the air and spun around, the shirts wafting around him like wings. "Is that Mav's?"
"Uncle Ice!" Bradley grinned up him, his tounge poking through the singular gap between his teeth. "Guess who I am!"
"Hmm…" Ice brought his hand up to rub his chin thoughtfully, playing it up to hear Bradley giggle. "Are you…a woodcutter? From the Little Red Riding Hood?"
"No-o-o Uncle Ice" Bradley giggled out. "Try again!"
"Alright", Ice replied. "Are you…an old farmer?"
"Nu-huh. I am not old.", Bradley grumped, crossing his arms. A sleeve dangled dangerously near the nightstand, threatening to knock over the alarm clock.
"Well, why don't you tell me then?", Ice squatted down in front of Bradley, an arm going out to steady the bouncing child in case he fell.
"I'm Mav, silly!" Bradley laughed.
It took Ice a couple of seconds to get his thoughts together and speak around the lump in his throat. In hindsight, the outfit looked suspiciously like what one Maverick Mitchell would wear when not in uniform. Except the flannel.
"Mav, huh? Well, you got most of it right, kiddo. " He had certainly never seen Mav wear that particular flannel before. Gifted by Wolf as a joke last Christmas, the bright green and brown colour of the shirt had ensured its relegation to the furthest corners of their closet - but not far enough for Bradley, apparently. "What's with the Christmas tree shirt though?"
Bradley giggled, no doubt recalling the horror on his godfather's face when Bradley compared it to a Christmas tree and wanted his Mav to wear it for Christmas last year.
"This is my jacket, Uncle Ice! Like Mav!" The kid had clearly picked the next brown shirt he could find as a subsitute for Mav's leather jacket.
"Well, on second thought, you do look just like Mav. Maybe I should start calling you Lieutenant Commander instead."
Bradley beamed up at him, clearly ecstatic to be so closely associated with his beloved Uncle Mav. And so they spent the rest of the afternoon playing planes and carriers with Ice referring to Bradley the way he would a CO. They ran (Ice slow-jogged) around the couch, Bradley running up and down the stairs enough times that Ice felt like that young cadet in the Academy.
The night ended with Ice trying to convince Bradley to change into his clothes. Bradley insisted on wearing his jacket outside - Mav never leaves without his, Uncle Ice. Ice finally pulled out the big guns.
"But Baby Goose - " Bradley glared at him. "I'm sorry - Lt. Baby Goose. How will your mom recognise you? If she walks in and sees Mav in here, she's going to wonder what happened to you."
The Baby Goose's shoulders slumped at that. He stomped his way to the stairs and spun around, a rolled up sleeve falling loose around his hand again.
"But Uncle Ice…" Ice cut in with a counter offer. Negotiating with children is tougher than negotiating with the brass to cover for Mav, Ice has found. The trick was not to promise too much - although the last time he expressed this opinion, Carole laughed in his face.
"You can wear Mav's clothes again next time. I'll even keep the same set out for you". He was sure Mav wouldn't mind.
"Okay!"
*****
Pete sat down on his bunk with a huff, tearing open the envelope in a hurry. It had been a while (1 week longer than their usual) since Ice wrote to him, deployment and Ice's work in California keeping them busy. It didn't stop the thrill rush through his body as he finally laid his eyes on Ice's spidery calligraphy. His eyes slid across the pages, greedily taking in words conveying love and warmth and home - all in between the lines, of course.
It wasn't until the end that his eyes widened and he grabbed the discarded envelope to look inside.
P.S: I'm including a picture of Bradley's costume for Halloween this year, his theme is superhero. Your leather jacket is with you, so the flannel will do for now. Surprise! Thought it would be easier this way.
He grabbed the polaroid almost hidden in the envelope and turned it over in a hurry.
And there was little Bradley, all of six years old, wearing an oversized white t-shirt, covered with that hideous flannel Wolf gifted him last Christmas. His hands were perched on his hips, the long sleeves still flopping out to the sides. Half his face was covered by a pair of aviators and he had a Top Gun had tilted on his little head. While the glasses blocked his eyes, the blinding grin on his face, gap-toothed and all, was a testament to how happy and proud he was.
Mav's vision blurred, his eyes growing hot. His little Bradley, his little Baby Goose. Dressed up as him for Halloween. He felt an overwhelming burst of love, pride, and grief that Goose never got to see his baby grow. Ice was right. It would be easier for Mav to feel the gamut of emotions that bubbled up inside him now so that he could convincingly fake surprise when he would meet his Baby Goose in October. The tears would no doubt scare the kid, it's better he got it all out now.
He tucked the picture into his flight suit, and it would follow him on every hop, training exercise and dogfight he went on - Bradley grinning up at him. It would also be the first picture Mav showed Bradley's partner, after all those years, after they both nearly die doing what they loved best - flying.
He would forever remember Bradley's expression when he showed Mav his Halloween costume - and the adult Bradley's embarrasment as his partner turned around and shot him a teasing grin, promising more to come.