Admiral Springsteen kicked open the swinging doors of lecture hall 316B, catching the attention of every man in that room...including Admiral Cain. He tossed Maverick and Goose in front of him, glancing to the front of the room.
"holy shit...what a grip," said Maverick as he struggled to his feet.
Goose stayed down, rubbing his shoulder.
"Pete Mitchell...Nick Bradshaw...late again." Admiral Cain began, tucking his hands behind his back as he strode down the aisle of chairs slowly. He nodded to Springsteen, who returned the gesture before leaving the room. "If you boys recall the last time this happened, and there have been many many times so just try your best, I was very specific in my directions were this ever to occur again." His voice was deep, the tone quite sarcastic. Admiral Cain squeezed Pete's shoulders, reminding him of what had happened earlier with Springsteen.
Pete winced, but never broke his 'cool guy' demeanor. "No sir, I...I don't recall."
Nick stood, kicking Pete's ankle once he straightened. He opened his mouth to apologize for Maverick's snarky comment.
"DON'T YOU GO AND TRY TO GET FUCKIN' SMART WITH ME, MAVERICK. THE NAVY HAS CARRIED YOUR ASS FOR TOO GODDAMN LONG. YOUR LUCKY YOUR SHIT STAIN OF A WSO CARRIES YOU, OR BOTH YOUR ASSES WOULD BE GROUNDED AND OUT OF THE NAVY PERMANENTLY." Admiral Cain was raging, his lack of hair showing his reddened scalp. In a line up, most people couldn't tell the difference between a raging, balding admiral and a freshly picked tomato. He pushed his hand off of Pete's shoulder, staring through his eyebrows so hard you'd think his eyes were going to roll back.
"if looks could kill..." Nick thought, the right of his face ticking up in disgust.
"YOU GOT SOMETHIN' TO SAY, BRADSHAW!?"
"No, sir." The pilot replied calmly.
Admiral Cain took a step back, sliding his tongue over his teeth. He balled his fists, slowly making his way back to the front of the lecture hall.
Pete shifted on his heels, Nick following cautiously behind him. The two went to sit down.
"YOU WILL SIT WHEN I TELL YOU TO SIT GOD DAMN IT."
Nick quickly stood up again, his knees buckling. Pete stands reluctantly beside him.
Admiral Cain turns back to the front of the room, clicking on a projector. A sudden whirring noise fills the room, a sharp blue light flashing onto the wall. "Your morning flight training," he began, "will be a quick 30 circulation, 400 miles off. We will station the noise analysis and your reader teams on the carrier. You will learn the pattern of your F-18, and how to communicate with your double-seated wingman. I will announce your groups, and you will not stray from your pairings." Cain spun as he finished, glaring at Pete. "Is that understood, gentlemen?"
Pete smiled, nodding.
The admiral ground his teeth, turning to the projector and pointing. "Pyro, T-Bar, you'll be with Marx and Teflon. Mooch, Squirt. Wingmen Darth and Apex. Glory and Hurricane, you'll be with Hyde and Kanga. Maverick and Goose, Cougar Merlin."
Two men glanced at the back of the room. The blonde cringed while the redhead laughed with glee. "Maverick and Goose!" One cheered in excitement. "Maverick and Goose..." the other sulked.
"Hangar 47. The aircraft that will take you to the waterborne flight deck is located there. If you do not board by 9:30, we will leave you on the mainland. Is that understood, boys?"
An array of yes sir's and understood's arose from the group as the men all stood to leave.
Nick let out a deep breath he didn't know he was holding. He spotted Pete making his way to Admiral Cain, and quickly tugged him back with a knowing look. "Don't." Said Nick, groaning as his co-pilot chuckled with amusement. The two followed behind the rest of the group, becoming giddy as they talked about their eventful morning. They filed out with the rest of the pilots and climbed into Pete's Porsche 356 replica. Nick was always the one that drove it. Fixing the mirror slightly, Nick dug into the compartment box for a cassette. He hummed in delight as he pulled out his all-time favorite and stuck it in.
Jerry Lee Lewis. Pete thought, groaning. "Anything but track 4. Goose, please." He said,
You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain! Began the radio, Nick quickly joining in. Too much love drives a man insane– Nick nudged Pete, egging him on to sing with him. You broke my will, but what a thrill. Goodness gracious, GREAT BALLS OF FIRE!!! The two howled the words and instrumentals as they tore out of the parking lot, speeding off to hangar 47.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Author's Note:
Hey y'all!
Next chapter i'm gonna be using everyone's call signs bc it'll be all flying scenes, so just a heads up <3
have a good day!!
YOU ARE READING
That Lovin' Feeling
FanfictionIn their last months attending the Naval Academy, main pilot Maverick and is weapon systems officer Goose are tested to their highest abilities in a above water dogfight training exercise. When their wingman and dear friend has a close call with the...
