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#mavdad and his dagger ducklings
redfurrycat · 10 months
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[At IceMav's]
Bob, Jake, Javy, Mickey and Reuben telling Mav about their favourite medical TV-show while Bradley and Nat handle the dessert.
Reuben: I got hooked up with Grey's Anatomy since the beginning. Can't get enough of the staff sleeping with each other.
Mickey: No way, man! The Good Doctor is the best show. I love Dr. Murphy! He's the best!!!
Javy: Not bad, dude, but I freaking love House M.D. There's no better one-liners than House's.
[Javy and Mickey high-fiving.]
Bob: I used to watch every Dr Quinn Medicine Woman rerun with my mum.
Mav: Good one, Bob. It's Ice's favourite too! You should come here on Wednesday, he loves to watch his favourite episodes.
Reuben: What about you, Jake?
[Javy snorts because HE KNOWS.]
Jake, dreamily distracted: ER. For one character only... Greene.
Mav, spitting out his beer through his nose: ARE YOU KIDDIN' ME?!
Jake: Nope. There's no sexiest doctor than good ol' Dr. Mark Greene.
The other men but Javy: What? What's going on? Show us Mav!
[On Mav's phone:]
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Mickey: DUUUUUUDE. YOU'RE SO PREDICTABLE SOMETIMES.
[They all tease Jake who's as cool as a cucumber. He's not ashamed! The guy IS good-looking and reminds him a little of...]
Bradley: Why you guys laughing? What did we miss?
Jake: Bradshaw! As I live and breathe. Did you bring me back my cheesecake?
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orangemilk123 · 1 year
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Copy and pasted my Mavdad Christmas bullshit thing into AO3 and posted cause I got bored while studying
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topgunshenanigans · 2 years
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Mavdad and his dagger ducklings
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the-authoress-writes · 2 months
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Love Is a Many-Splendored Thing
A MavDad/PennyMav Fic
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Synopsis: What do paperwork and a manicure have to do with Pete Mitchell getting the happy ending he never thought he would?
Everything, apparently.
Warnings: Fluff—pure, unadulterated fluff with feels.
Author’s Note: At last, I fulfill my promise to write something for Mav!
I couldn’t be happier to finally write something where Mav is the star, and not the wingman, literal or figurative.
Honestly, this story idea has been floating around in my head for a while, and here it is!
I know I should be working on the next chapter of Wherever You Go, or heck, even my faceclaim post for said fic, but this just wanted to be written already, and hopefully, now that I’ve gotten it out of my system, I will be able to get back to writing that.
I swear I didn’t plan to post this around Valentine’s Day, but hey, I’m not complaining!
Anyway, I hope you enjoy my schmoopy MavDad indulgence!
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“Honey, have you done your homework?” Mav heard Penny ask Amelia, from where he was drying the dinner dishes in the kitchen.
“Did it this afternoon, Mom, and I told you, the light is better here.”
“Okay, alright, let me just open a window before you suffocate us with the acetone,” Penny chuckled.
“Thanks, Mom.”
The sound of latches opening and glass bottles clinking together tinkled through the air, and the shadow of Penny crossing to open the window behind the breakfast nook fell across the counter next to him.
The cool breeze of a San Diego fall evening washed in, much like the distant tide.
A few soft footfalls later, warm arms wrapped around him. “Pete, honey, you coming up soon?”
Cracking a smile at the muted gag from the dining table, he sighed, leaning back against her. “I’ll try—I have a shit-ton of paperwork that Cyclone dumped on me.
The disadvantages of being an instructor and squadron leader,” he ruefully smiled, though he didn’t really regret taking the TOPGUN job and the position of CO of the newly created VFA-223, the “Black Cloaks”, comprised entirely of the Daggers and those who had been selected for the detachment training—or Maverick’s Ducklings, as Cyclone had dubbed them.
She nodded against his back. “Alright, come to bed when you’re done, okay?”
“I’ll be there.”
It was one of the best decisions in his life to work at his relationship with Penny—they had no chance of working when he was younger; his soul was too haunted, his heart, mind, and body chasing ghosts while also fleeing from them, but now… well, now, his mother’s engagement ring was sitting in the drawer of his desk at work, just waiting.
For what, exactly, he wasn’t sure.
The right moment, he guessed.
Mav heard Penny’s footsteps start up the stairs just as he placed the last glass in the cabinet, and after a wistful exhale, he grabbed the reluctantly-owned attaché case that Ice would have cackled over him having, which contained the classwork from his TOPGUN students, and the relatively sensitive training run reports of the Black Cloaks, setting it down at the dining table, across from where Amelia was… doing something to her nails.
He began working on the papers, and soon realized she was doing her nails.
After a while, Amelia murmured, “How’s the paperwork going?” a smirk like her mother’s on her face.
Belatedly, he realized he’d been watching her work instead of reading his reports. “It’s uh… paperworking,” he muttered lamely.
“I bet it’s better than watching nail polish dry.”
He blinked—she had her mother’s and her grandfather’s dry wit, that was for sure.
After that pointed reminder, the two of them worked in silence, the sound of a bottle of clear polish eventually punctuating the air with a sound of finality.
She blew on her hands for a while, then set them down on the table.
He soon felt the weight of her stare, and let it rest on him for about five minutes before he interjected, “How’s the uh, manicure?”
“Good.
The paperwork?”
“… It’s…”
“Boring,” she dared, raising an eyebrow.
He debated the consequences of telling Amelia responsibility was boring, but the truth was, no matter how interesting the maneuvers were in the air, the constraints of report language made them boring.
“Yeah,” he admitted.
“Figured.” She blinked, thoughtful. “Do you have to do anything special with the paperwork?”
“Not really, just read them over, and make sure that what they’re saying in the report matches up with what happened in the air.
And then I have to grade my students’ homework.”
Amelia nodded, and after a pause, she asked, “You any good at multitasking?”
Even though he wasn’t sure where she was going with this, he replied, “Pretty good.”
It was part of his job after all, especially since he switched to single-seat; having to calculate things like AOA and airspeed relative to the limitations of his aircraft, all while flying faster than the speed of sound, among other things.
“Okay.
You read those reports and grade that homework.
I’m going to tell you about my day while I give you a manicure.” She inhaled, something hesitant in her eyes. “Unless… unless you don’t want me to bug you—it’s teenager stuff and all that—”
He cut her off, “I’d love to hear about your day, Amelia.”
It hit something in his heart to see the quickly concealed shock in her eyes.
Yet another strike for Penny’s dick ex-husband in Mav’s book.
“You would?”
“Yeah, of course, kiddo.
But uh,” Mav scratched the back of his neck, “is the manicure really necessary?”
Like a flash of lightning, she leaned over the table and grabbed his hand, scrutinizing each finger and his palm, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “Ugh—yeah.”
He hedged, “I’m pretty sure it’s against regs for me to have pink—”
“Relax, old man, there is such a thing as clear polish—Admiral Stick-in-the-Mud won’t see a thing.
And I need something to do too, I’m not even halfway tired yet.
Fixing your trainwreck hands oughta do the trick,” she gestured.
He laughed, switching the papers to his right hand. “Alright, Skylark, go to town.”
Amelia ducked her head and grabbed her nail file, failing to conceal her smile at the nickname he’d given her shortly after he and Penny got back together. “Okay, so, um, at school, math is my first subject, and honestly, whoever said math should be the first class of the day needs to be punished…”
Almost two and a half hours later, the paperwork was done, Mav’s nails were cut, filed, and polished, his cuticles trimmed, hands moisturized, and he knew every dirty, juicy secret of North Island High.
Amelia drowsily packed up her nail kit, which was the size of a small toolbox, while he did the same with his attaché case, and as a team, they checked the doors and windows of the house, making sure everything was secure.
The task done, they ended up back at the dining room. “All hatches battened down, Captain,” she sighed.
At his slightly perplexed frown, she rolled her eyes, “Seriously—you’re in the navy.”
“Like I told your mom, I don’t sail boats, I just land on them,” he chuckled.
“Well, it means everything’s good.”
He softly clapped his hands together, “Alrighty, let’s get to bed then.”
Amelia snorted, “God, you’re so old, who even says alrighty non-ironically anymore?”
“Alrighty isn’t cool anymore?”
“No.
Was it ever?”
“Uh…”
She shook her head, “Remind me to get you up to date, I can’t have you embarrassing yourself out there—you’ll lose all your cool.”
Mav immediately pointed, “So you think I’m cool?”
Caught like a deer in the headlights, she tried to backtrack. “I mean, don’t—don’t all you naval aviators think you’re like, the coolest or something?”
“No, no, no, no take-backsies; you think I’m cool,” he grinned.
She winced, “You’re killing me here—‘take-backsies’?”
“Come onnnn, Skylark.”
“Ugh, fine,” she groaned, “you’re—you’re sort of cool.”
“I’ll take it, kid.”
She smirked, then looked at her nail kit despairingly. “Seriously regretting bringing the whole thing down.
It’s heavy as hell.”
He reached for it, “Lemme get it for ya.”
Amelia attempted to bat his hands away, “No, I can carry it, Mav.”
“I got it—just focus on getting yourself up the stairs.”
She visibly debated the idea of arguing, but a yawn cut her off, and with the element of her eyes closed, he used the opportunity to gently wrap an arm around her shoulder and usher her up the stairs.
“You should have let me carry it—you’re too old to carry heavy stuff,” she muttered, mindful of her likely sleeping mother.
“I can carry this for you, don’t worry about me.
And next time you do my nails, you can carry it.”
They had arrived at her bedroom door, and she stopped short. “Next time?”
“Yeah, who else will help me get through my paperwork, take care of my hands, and let me know if Micah takes Kenna instead of Alyssa to Junior Prom?”
A smile curled the corner of her mouth. “I guess someone has to help you stay in the brass’ good graces so they don’t ship you out to the asscrack of America for not doing paperwork.”
“Can’t afford to leave you and your mom, Skylark.” And he really didn’t want to leave this time, not when he finally had so much to stay for.
“Or the chicken.
And the ducklings.”
“Yeah, them too,” Mav laughed quietly, similarly mindful of Penny, before handing the nail kit to her. “Anyway, here you go, Amelia.”
She took the nail kit, looking at him for a beat, like she had something to say, but wasn’t sure about whether to say it.
Finally, she said, “Thanks.
And, uh… I… I—I know I like giving you crap, but, I—I like—having you around, Mav.
And I—I…” she trailed off, pinching the bridge of her nose, “you know what, never mind, I’m rambling, your disaster hands made me tired.”
He knew that she wanted to say something else just then, but he let it go, not wanting to pry. “I really, really like being around too, Skylark, and if I have anything to say about it, I won’t be going anywhere.”
“That’s good,” she smiled, swallowing thickly. “I, uh, I better go—gotta get that good sleep.”
“Alright, kiddo, goodnight.”
“Night, Mav.”
After a sleepy smile, she softly shut her door, and he continued up the stairs, getting into bed beside a sleeping Penny, wrapping himself around her, quickly drifting off to sleep.
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“Alright, Daggers, good work on the hop, head to the hangar, and we’ll review the maneuvers,” Mav clapped his hands, looking at his squad, most of whom dispersed to the aforementioned location, save for Bradley, who hung back.
“I seriously don’t know how you do it, you crazy old man,” Bradley laughed, his Caravans doing nothing to hide the child-like glee in his eyes. “I thought we’d all learned everything our first TOPGUN sessions and during the detachment training, but somehow, you manage to teach us something new every time.”
“Well, I got to make sure you kids know everything I do, so you all can continue to terrorize the Navy when I retire,” Mav grinned.
Bradley scoffed, “You say that like you’re going to turn in your papers today—we both know the brass’ll have to drag you from your F-18, Mav.” His son in everything but name and blood paused, a twitch of his mustache the only giveaway of his rising concern. “I mean—you’re not doing that any time soon—right, Dad?”
He wrapped an arm around Bradley, “Nah, not about to leave you to the skies just yet, Baby Goose.
Not until I make you all better than me.”
His “Until I make sure you can survive anything,” went unsaid, but his boy, ever perceptive, leaned into the contact and murmured, “Love you too, Dad.”
“Love you more—” Mav cut himself off as he went to run a hand through his hair, frowning at his hand.
There on his thumb, in bright, varnished red, was a neatly drawn heart, and the letter U.
Distantly, he heard Bradley say, “Mav?
Dad, you okay?
What’s wrong?”
“This wasn’t here last night,” he muttered, showing Bradley his thumb.
The worry eased from his son’s face, replaced with amusement. “You let Skylark do your nails?”
“Yes, I did—sue me—but Roo, this wasn’t there last night, I distinctly remember making Amelia use clear nail polish.”
Bradley took his hand, scrutinizing it. “It looks like there’s top coat on here, so she put this last night.”
Mav couldn’t help the surprise on his face.
“Sue me, sometimes Phoe makes me paint her toenails,” the younger pilot muttered.
“How is that possible—I saw my hands after she did it; this wasn’t there.”
Bradley thought for a second, before the metaphorical lightbulb lit up. “Invisible nail polish.”
“What?
That’s a thing?”
“Yeah—absolutely.
It goes on clear, but stand in the sun or heat up your hands, it’ll turn the color it’s supposed to be.”
As Mav absorbed this information, the puzzle pieces came together in his head, what Amelia had been trying to say before they said goodnight, and tears sprang to his eyes.
“Dad?”
“Amelia loves me, Baby Goose—I can’t bel—I don’t—”
Immediately, Bradley took him into his arms. “Hey; Dad, listen to me: you deserve all the love in the world, okay?
And I am so sorry for my hand in making you feel like you don’t deserve love, but you do, Dad—I can assure you, you do.
I’m really happy for you.
Maybe now, you can muster up the guts to bust out that box that’s been hiding in your desk.”
Mav gasped, “How did you—”
“I saw it when I asked for some Post-It’s last week.
Seriously, you didn’t even make an effort to hide it.”
“You—you’re not mad I didn’t tell you?” he gulped.
Bradley smirked, pulling back, “Dad, I knew this was coming a long time ago, and really, as long as you’re happy and healthy?
I’m on your wing.”
Mav reached up, cupping Bradley’s face. “You’re a good kid, Baby Goose.”
Regret twisted his boy’s face. “Could have been better.”
“I love you regardless, kid.
Now come on, they’re probably all wondering where we are, let’s debrief so we can get outta here sooner; I need your help at the mall.”
“Su—wait, what?” It was amusing to see Bradley stop right in his tracks.
“I need to get something for Amelia; but I don’t know where to start.”
“I…” the younger pilot opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, before finally shutting it with a click and sighing, “I guess we’re going shopping later for Skylark, then.”
Mav eagerly slapped him on the arm, wide grin on his face as he dashed back to the hangar, and Bradley tried to not to feel that this mall mission was like stealing an F-14 all over again.
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“Pen, Skylark, I’m home!” Mav ventured, hoping for the first time, that Penny wasn’t home.
“Just me, Mav, Mom’s still at The Hard Deck!” Amelia called back, and relief flowed through him; it made this a whole lot easier.
He followed the sound of her voice to the dining room, where she was bent over a textbook, and he pulled up the chair next to her. “Hey kiddo, you got a minute?”
Amelia froze and swallowed thickly, shutting her textbook slowly, an unreadable expression on her face. “Mav, I swear, if you have gotten yourself shipped off again, I am not going to be the one to tell Mom—”
“No!” he yelped, “it’s not like that.
I just wanted to talk to you for a bit.”
“Okay,” she breathed, still skeptical.
He reached out and took her hands in his right. “I got your message.”
She frowned, “I didn’t call you this—” she cut herself off at his meaningful look at his hand. “Oh—that.” She frantically shook her head. “I—I was just playing with you, it doesn’t—“
“I don’t think you were,” he gently pressed.
“I—I—Mav,” she breathed, eyes wide, like a deer in the headlights.
He pulled her into his arms. “I love you too, Amelia.”
And God, it broke his heart to hear her gasp, “You do?”
“Swear on my wings, Skylark,” Mav solemnly nodded into her hair.
He held her tighter against him as she sniffled, her small frame trembling.
When her trembling and sniffles subsided, he drew back. “Now, I have a pretty big question to ask you, Amelia.
It’s one I’ve actually wanted to ask for a while, but something held me back; I think I’m ready to ask now.
You up for it?”
She swiped the back of her hand across her face. “Shoot.”
He pulled a small, black velvet box from his jacket pocket, and opened it, laying it on the table. “You think your mom would like that?”
Her jaw dropped. “You…”
“Mm-hmm.
I’m asking your permission to marry your mother.”
She dared, “Hypothetically, what if I say no?”
Mav inhaled, wincing, “I would ask you to reconsider, but I’d respect that.”
A deep frown creased her brow. “You would deny yourself happiness just because I didn’t want you to marry Mom?”
He took her hand again. “Amelia, you and your mom are a package deal; the last thing on earth I want is to come between you and your mother.
And if that means that this never gets used… well, so be it.”
Tears welled in her eyes, and her voice shook, “You love Mom, right?”
He couldn’t help a soft smile. “I’ve… I’ve loved your mom for a long time, kiddo.
Yeah, I love her.”
“And you’re not going anywhere anytime soon, right?”
“If I have my way, I’m not going anywhere.”
Wordlessly, she nodded.
“Yeah?”
Nodding again, she stated, “Yeah, you can marry my mom.”
“Thanks, Skylark,” he beamed, wrapping an arm around her. “You don’t know what that means.
And hey, I have something for you.”
Mav pulled out the small, white bag he’d tucked in his bomber. “I had an idea of what I wanted, and Bradley told me this store was a good place to find what I was looking for—apparently, he’s bought here before.”
Amelia carefully took the box out of the bag, revealing a silver Pandora bracelet with a double charm of a silver swooping bird encrusted with small blue stones, a small round medal behind it saying “Time to fly” with stylized birds on it, and a simple, custom silver medal engraved with his handwriting, saying, “I love you too.”
Mav couldn’t help rambling, “It’s a Pandora bracelet, you can add charms to it if you want, I just wanted to give you something special; I was always going to give you this even if you didn’t give me your permission to marry your mother—”
“Mav.
This… this is too much,” Amelia breathed, interrupting him.
He twisted his mouth self-effacingly. “Nothing’s too much for those I love.”
Tears welled in her eyes again, and this time, she lurched forward into his arms.
He held her for a long moment, before pulling back to look at her. “Now, I need your help.
You and I need to get your mom here early, and you need to help Brads when he comes over in a bit; he’s bringing the food.”
Amelia’s eyes lit up. “You’re going to ask her tonight, aren’t you?”
“That’s the plan.”
“Didn’t know you were capable of making a plan, Mav,” she smirked.
“I am amazing at making plans, Skylark—come on, let’s get to work.”
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Under the pretense of Amelia being very under the weather, both she and Mav had managed to get Penny home before the sun had even gone down—Penny burst through the door, gasping for breath. “Pete—Ames?”
“Here, Mom,” she called out from her seat in the dining room, exchanging happy glances with Mav and Bradley.
“What’s wrong, how are you feel—” Penny stopped short when she caught sight of the trio of Mav, Bradley, and Amelia at the dining table with shit-eating grins on their faces, connecting the dots that she did have. “You weren’t feeling sick, were you?” she addressed her daughter.
“It was my idea, Pen, we didn’t know how else to get you home faster,” Mav sheepishly spoke up, throwing himself on the figurative sword.
“Pete!”
“What?
I wanted us to… celebrate—family, you know?
Have a family dinner with your kid, my kid.”
Amelia piped up, “And my allergies were acting up really bad today, Mom.”
“You’re a bad influence, Pete.”
He stood, approaching her, his million-watt smile on full brilliance. “Aww, you love me.”
She stared stonily, before her eyes softened and the corner of her lips tipped up under the assault of his gaze and smile. “Unfortunately.”
Amelia and Bradley playfully gagged simultaneously, causing both Penny and Mav to laugh, to which Bradley spoke up, “Well, I still have to heat up the food I brought, because we didn’t know when you’d get here, Penny, so why don’t you two go for a walk on the beach, do whatever two old people in love do?”
Mav teasingly pointed, “Remember who kicked your ass in hops this morning, Baby Goose,” while Penny crossed her arms, seamlessly picking up the thread, “And who can raise the price of your drinks, Rooster.”
Bradley raised his hands in surrender. “That is freaky as hell.
Let’s leave them to it, Skylark, I need a wingman in the kitchen.”
Without even a peep of protest, Amelia followed Bradley, but not before giving Mav a supportive wink.
“What was that about?” Penny narrowed her eyes at her boyfriend.
“What?”
“That wink Amelia sent you.”
“Did she?
I didn’t see anything.”
She tilted her head skeptically, but he continued, “Why don’t we take Baby Goose’s suggestion and go take a walk on the beach?
It’ll be nice, sweetheart.”
Despite the feeling that Mav was up to something, she nodded and laced her arm through his offered elbow for the suggested beach walk, not knowing the other hand tucked in his bomber pocket was wrapped around a little black velvet box.
It was a nice evening, warm, but with a breeze coming in off the ocean, and the sunset was gorgeous.
Penny walked along the shore, arm in arm with Mav, just enjoying each other’s company in a way they wouldn’t be capable of over thirty years ago.
They had both grown so much as people, in so many ways, big and small, and she tilted her head, briefly leaning it against his shoulder.
“Penny for your thoughts?” he murmured, a smile in his voice.
She chuckled, “You’re corny.
But I was thinking about us.”
“Hmm—good thoughts?”
“Yeah.
I don’t think we could have had this years ago.
I’m so glad that we have it now, before it was too late.”
He sighed heavily. “That’s on me, Pen.
I am more sorry than you know—so much wasted time.”
“Don’t beat yourself up, Pete; the time was right.
And we still have time, it’s not like either of us have a foot in the grave.”
“It’s less time than I’d like.”
She smiled softly, “You romantic.”
“I try,” he joked, soon growing serious. “But… as much as I wish it weren’t the case, I guess the time was right for us.
Even just five years ago… I’d have crashed and burned us, and there’d be no hope after that.
But now… look at us.”
“I know.”
“Penny… there’s so much I want to tell you, but I don’t know if I have the words to describe them,” he breathed, tone intense.
She ran her hand soothingly up and down his arm, knowing he was just collecting himself.
“I—with you, solid ground feels just as much like home as the sky always has.
Your love makes me feel free, when I’ve never wanted so much to stay in one place before.
You know all my issues, my shortcomings, my fears, and yet, you’re still here.
I don’t deserve a woman like you, but somehow, you chose me.”
“Pete—”
He stopped them, took both her hands in his, and slowly knelt in the sand, before he plucked a black velvet box from his jacket pocket. “All this is to say, Penelope Marissa Benjamin, will you make me the happiest man on earth and make me your husband?”
She gasped, her eyes darting from Mav’s earnest face to the beautiful solitaire diamond set in a simple band of yellow gold. “Isn’t it supposed to be ‘be my wife?’”
“I’m marrying up, here,” he grinned, continuing, “so what do you say?
Because Captain Benjamin-Mitchell definitely has a ring to it.
Though your dad would probably have a heart attack at the thought of me having his last name too.”
“I think he’s come around to you, actually—he calls you ‘that damn Maverick’ instead of ‘that fucking Mitchell’, nowadays.”
Mav tilted his head from side to side, considering. “I’ll take it.
So… marry me?”
“Yes.
Yes, I will,” she breathlessly replied.
“Oh, thank God,” he muttered, delight shining in his eyes, his hands shaking as he placed the ring on her finger.
It fit perfectly, and Mav wistfully sighed. “My mom would be so happy to see this now.
This was hers, you know.”
Her eyes widened, and she looked at the ring again, the vintage cut of the diamond now obvious to her. “Oh, Pete.”
His eyes grew glassy, and Penny immediately wrapped him in an embrace.
“I love you, Pen.”
She could hear the emotion in his voice, and she held on tighter, matching his own grip on her. “I love you too.”
When she felt his hold on her loosen, she pulled back, cupping his face in her hands. “You okay?”
Mav leaned into her touch. “I am now.”
“Good.”
“The kids should have dinner ready by now.” He sniffled, clearly thinking of something. Finally, he asked, “Uh, would you mind… helping me up?
My uh, knee is a little stiff.”
Penny chuckled, shifting her hands to help her now-fiancé up, a surprised little yelp escaping her when Mav spun the two of them in a circle, his joyful laugh singing through the air.
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Mav took in the scene at the dining table before him like it was a fine wine; Amelia and Bradley were animatedly sharing stories from high school, trying to see who had the weirdest stories, both of them sending him “Can you believe this?” glances when they thought the other wasn’t looking; Amelia’s bracelet catching the light as she swept her hand in an expansive gesture; Penny at his side laughing at the stories Amelia and Bradley were telling, while she repetitively ran her thumb across his knuckles, his mother’s ring sparkling on her hand.
He never in a million years could have imagined he’d have this at this point in his life; in all honesty, he had been prepared to burn in over some foreign sea or land, decades ago.
But here he was.
And if not for his wingman ordering him to teach an impossible mission, this reality would doubtlessly be impossible.
Gratitude filled his heart, and he sent a thought to the heavens; “Thank you, Ice—for everything.”
High above the San Diego night sky, a singular star blinked, sending back, even though its intended recipient would never know; “You’re welcome, Mav.”
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Title is from the song of the same name.
(I really like to name stories after songs, don’t I?)
I headcanon Mav as being neurodivergent, and for me, as someone with ADHD, more often than not, having something else to focus on in the background, helps me get something that I am directly focused on done.
Invisible nail polish does exist, though let’s suspend our disbelief about how dark it can turn if the pre-change color is clear…
The charms I describe are real—you can see the bird charm here, and Pandora does offer an engraving service to make charms with your handwriting on them!
I’ll leave it up to your imagination as to who Bradley purchased Pandora for…
(That’s not teasing, I’m genuinely leaving it up to you)
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somewhere on here someone said "mavdad and his dagger ducklings" and somewhere else out there Crowley approves
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storeboughtbrand · 2 years
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TOP GUN COUNTRY AU! PT.2: COUNTRY BOOGALOO
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*The class of 86’ got to witness young Mav’s toss-ability at the O Club, so it’s only fair that, as their successors, the baby pilots get to see it too at the Hard Deck."
Let’s just say Slider did NOT make a good first impression on his new nieces and nephews 😅.
It started as a typical night of drinking at the Hard Deck. It’s been about a week or so since the Uranium Mission, and the kids are hanging around the pool tables. Every pilot called back to TOP GUN is still there as the higher-ups haven’t decided what to do with them yet.
(And they are afraid to bring up the topic to Admiral Kazansky again after he sent that 2 star-admiral running away from his office with his tail tucked between his legs and looking one second away from shitting himself. *it was not Cyclone and Warlock)
So, for now, the baby pilots are enjoying their leave by drinking some good-ass beer and enjoying each other’s company.
They all are a fond sight around the base for everyone who works there. It’s rare for someone on staff to see Captain Mitchell walking around and not be accompanied by one to two of his students trailing behind him like ducklings. Warlock almost burst out laughing once when a visiting Admiral had to do a double take when he saw a giant moving mass of 12 Naval Pilots on the Tarmac and then saw the tiny 5’7 figure of Maverick somewhere in the middle before disappearing from view because he’s shorter than most of them. It was all thanks to a well placed elbow nudge in the side from Beau that saved his career.
So yeah, just a funky lil old pilot and his 12 adopted naval pilots.
While the Daggers are chatting, a tall man (6’2) walks in wearing aviator sunglasses and a leather G-1 Jacket. He’s wearing a lot of patches, but it’s hard to determine what each of them is.
The jacket catches Bob’s eyes, and he points out the guy to the rest of the squad, who turns to look at him. They all watch as he looks around the room and before his eyes land on  Maverick who’s sitting at the bar, chatting with Penny. He starts walking towards Mav slowly, looking like he’s trying to sneak up on Mav. Fanboy, with narrowed eyes, quietly says the guy looks like a lion stalking its prey. Now, normally, a comment like that would get a laugh out of some of the pilots, but they’ve all got a bit too much alcohol in their systems. Instead, they all tense, and now everyone is watching this guy like a hawk.
The kids watch as the guy lunges at their Mavdad from behind and gets him in a bear hug. Then he drags Mav off the stool, who lets out a startled cry, and suddenly, the entire squadron is on their feet.
But they all relax but don't stop watching when the man starts spinning him around in a circle, laughing.
They all have the same thought running through their heads.
"Aight, cool, this guy must be a friend of Captain dad. I wonder how long it's been since they've seen each - OH MY GOD!” – and then proceed to go into smoke in the air panic mode as the unknown man fucking launches Mav HIGH into the air. Like this man almost touches the mug display on the ceiling.
The kids go into full-on – frothing at the mouth – protective mode and are already making their way over with Phoenix and Hangman leading the charge.  The guy catches Mav easily, and the kids breathe a sigh of relief. But then they see this guy is winding up for another pitch and are like – “I think the fuck NOT!”. They’ve got this MF’s ass in a radar lock.
No, this was no man.
This was a boogie - an ENEMY - and they’ve got tone.
The Guy and Mav turn to see the approaching Daggers, and the guy puts Mav down but keeps his hands on Mav’s hips. Mav lights up at the sight of his students and opens his mouth.
“Hey, guys! I’ve got someone I want you to me-”
But his kids don’t hear a word he is saying. They are all gone; they’ve gone completely raptor feral.
Phoenix is the first to land an attack. She jumps on the guy’s back and latches on to him like a spider monkey. She gets her forearm against the front of his neck and pulls hard; Penny says later that he sounded like a dying horse, even if Slider disagrees.
She gets the Boogie to let go of Mav’s hips, and Coyote quickly picks him up and cradles the old aviator in his arms while Bob and Fritz check him for injuries. With Mav safely out of harm’s way, the rest of the kids go in for the kill.
Hangman dives in for the tackle, grappling the man around his waist and pushing overboard out the front door of the Hard Deck. Rooster runs to the door and holds it open allowing the screaming trio out onto the sand, the rest of the kids follow closely behind screaming bloody murder.
Phoenix and Hangman try to wrestle the man down on the ground, but he isn’t giving up and fights back with all he’s got. He’s thrashing around, kicking up sand, and prying Phoenix off his back. She looks like she’s riding a raging mechanical bull. He’s not ready for the full force of a flying Rooster tackling him, and the Tree of a man goes down.
Then out of nowhere, a volley of pool noodles starts raining down on the Boogie.
Somehow, the other pilots had each found a pool noodle lying around and were now wielding them like baseball bats.
The Boogie gives up on trying to phoenix off him and brings his hands up to defend him. He’s able to rip Fanboy’s pool noodle out of his hands and whacking them back.
Fanboy runs off because he spots something out of the corner of his eye. When he comes running back into view, he’s holding a giant Eagle Floaty high above his head and screaming like Tarzan.
The Boogie’s eyes go wide, and he tries to escape harder, but it is hard for him when he keeps getting whacked in the head with a pool noodle.
They’ve got this guy on the ropes, and the guy is basically beaten into the ground.  He’s pinned down by the combined strength of Rooster, Hangman, and Phoenix. Fanboy stands over their downed foe, ready to deliver the final blow via plastic eagle.
“Lieutenants, stand down!”
And everyone freezes in mid-motion, the direct order from a commander officer unable to be ignored.
Phoenix still has the guy in a headlock. Hangman’s got his arms wrapped around the guys legs, holding him down.
Rooster’s half lying on top and half holding down the man’s torso.
Payback, Omaha, Halo, Harvard, and Yale all have paused mid-swing of their pool noodles.
Fanboy has the giant eagle float high above his head, ready to dive bomb straight into the man’s face.
At the entrance of the Hard Deck, stands Maverick, looking at all of them in shock. Behind him are Coyote, Fritz, and Bob who try to drag Mav back into the bar so they can fuss over him.
Hangman: Pops, go back inside; we’ve got this motherfucker handled.”
(-What! Who’re you calling a motherfucker-)
Maverick: While I do agree he is a fucker (-HEY-), he’s a fucker I would like intact and without a concussion.
Mav turns to look at the beaten man and says, “You okay, Slider?”
The Man glares at Mav - “Just fucking peachy, Pete.”
Mav winces at the use of his first name.
The rest of the pilots ready their noodles for another swing cause no one talks to their Mavdad like that!
Then Rooster just stops and stares at the guy. Mav called him Slider, which definitely sounds like a callsign. And it sounds familiar. Why does he feel like he should recognize that name?
…………..
“Oh Shit, Uncle Slider?!???”
And the rest was history.
———————-
Needlessly to say, Mav was apologizing for the rest of the night while holding an ice pack against the side of Slider’s head while he nursed a free beer, courtesy of Penny.
The baby pilots all apologize too, and to Mav, they sounded sincere, but Slider can see them all glaring at him over Mav’s shoulder, though Rooster’s is less heated. It doesn’t help his case when he glares right back. It also doesn’t help when he slides his arm around Mav’s waist and pulls him flush against his side.
Mav just snuggles into his friend’s side, completely unaware his kids are plotting out Slider’s death using hand gestures so his friend can see precisely how they’ll do it.
Mav does eventually explain what the tossing was able and Rooster’s all like, “Oh yeah! I forgot all about that.” Slider just throws his hands up in the background.
Slider is peeved that he got attacked by Mav’s adopted horde, but Mav gives him a …..proper apology…….if you catch my drift, later that night.
And that’s the story of Slider first met and almost died by the hands and pool noodles of his new nieces and nephews. Sufficient to say, the retired RIO was immediately placed squarely in the category of Favorite Uncle the Daggers like to fuck with. It’s done with love tho.
An artist's (Fritz's) rendition of the climactic battle:
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*Slider was not amused*
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