HARD DECK
a top gun: maverick fanfiction

CHAPTER ONE: THE HARD DECK

The smell of nitrile examination gloves was so deeply ingrained in Summer Hackett's memory that even as she drove home, through neighborhoods that smelled of barbecues and pool chlorine, she couldn't get the scent out of her nose.

It was comforting, in a way.

It was an extension of herself, she supposed.

Some women had a signature scent, one as recognizable as their voice: lavender or vanilla or citrus. Summer supposed hers was a disposable blue glove with a hint of hand sanitizer.

Her friends told her that she was crazy, and she didn't smell "like a latex glove." She would then go on to correct them, saying that most disposable medical-grade gloves weren't made out of latex anymore, due to so many people having an allergy to latex.

Her friends would then tell her that she needed a drink, and proceed to order her several.

She'd found that boring people with science was a great way to get free drinks. Everyone thought scientists needed to loosen up. Clearly, they'd forgotten just how much college doctors went through, and just how loose one gets in college.

Either way, Summer wouldn't join her friends at the bar until she'd had a shower. That, and being around patients all day, with their varying ailments, didn't exactly make a gal feel clean.

Summer pulled her car into the driveway of her bungalow, where she quickly parked and ran up the stairs to her front porch. She was already running late, and her friends were going to kill her.

They never seemed to understand why Summer was late. Thomas worked in finance and Joey was in computer science, so each of them had a nine-to-five that they punched in and out of at the same time each day. Neither of them had patients to tend to or emergencies to deal with. Joey's version of an emergency was a broken code, while Summer's was a broken neck.

She stripped out of her scrubs as she made her way through the house, jumping in the shower as soon as she reached the bathroom. Working alongside the Navy for so long meant that Summer had taken on some of their characteristics, one of those being fast at showering. She shampooed, conditioned, scrubbed, exfoliated, shaved, and rinsed in under five minutes.

She wrapped her dark hair in a towel before stumbling around her home, digging out a dress from her closet. Most of her days were spent in scrubs, a lab coat, and sensible shoes, so she didn't often get to use her cute clothes. She was glad to have an excuse to wear a dress for once.

She quickly dressed and ran a brush through her hair before swiping some mascara on her dark lashes. She glanced at her watch, seeing that if she didn't leave within three minutes, she'd be late, and then she'd never hear the end of it.

She found a pair of sandals in the back of her closet, slipping her feet inside, before grabbing her wallet and keys. Joey lived down the street from the bar they frequented, meaning Summer could drive to Joey's house and leave her car there. She grabbed a protein bar and headed out, backing her car out of the driveway she'd pulled into only a mere ten minutes previously.

Summer drove the ten minutes between her house and Joey's with a lead foot, subconsciously riding the bumper of the car in front of her. She wasn't the best driver, as she was always in a hurry and didn't have much patience for others on the road. She was busy, and driving was often an inconvenience.

Joey was already waiting on the porch when Summer pulled up to their house.

"You know, for someone who is always in a hurry, you're always late," Joey yelled as Summer approached their house.

"I'm not even late!" Summer hollered out her open window as she pulled into the driveway.

Joey snorted and stood, stretching out like they hadn't moved in years. Joey had been a rugby player in their youth, and it had wreaked havoc on their body. Summer worked with the Navy, and she'd never seen a thirty three-year-old's joints as bad as Joey's.

"I'm thirsting to death!" Joey whined, meeting Summer in the driveway.

"Thirsting isn't a word, Joe," Summer said.

"Thomas is already there. He said it's packed."

"Of course it is," Summer replied as she followed Joey to the back of the house, which overlooked the beach. They could follow the sand from Joey's backyard all the way to the Hard Deck, the bar they were headed to. "They just got a load of new pilots in."

"Oooh," Joey said, smirking. "Seen 'em yet? Any cuties?"

Summer rolled her eyes. "I haven't seen them yet, but I'm sure there will be. Always are."

"There's just something sexy about a pilot, you know?" Joey said.

Summer rolled her eyes again. "Try working with them. You'll change your mind."

Summer worked for the Navy as a medical doctor on contract. She wasn't enlisted, so she wasn't in the service. They hired her in to work as a doctor at the nearby Naval Air Station, and she, along with a handful of other staff members, treated the sailors that worked there. Seeing as the station was home to the TOPGUN program, the United States Navy Strike Fighter Tactics Instructor Program, where the pilots flew dangerous jets dangerously fast, Summer treated a lot of patients.

Joey laughed as they approached the bar, entering through the back door. Summer spotted Thomas's curly brown hair as he sat at the bar, a glass of dark beer already in his hands.

"Nikolaidis!" Joey yelled as they walked inside, causing Thomas to turn around.

Sailors outnumbered civilians about ten to one in the bar, but that didn't mean there wasn't a good mix of people. Summer, Joey, and Thomas were regulars at the Hard Deck, because the beer was cheap, Joey and Thomas liked to flirt with the pilots, and the owner was just about the nicest person ever.

Joey worked downtown in a software startup, and Thomas did something in finance that Summer didn't quite understand, so each was easily enamored by the cool confidence all of the TOPGUN pilots had. The appeal had long worn off for Summer, who'd seen them at their worst, with their concussions and STDs and hemorrhoids, and whatever other ailments they brought to her day in and day out.

"Hey guys!" Thomas waved, a big smile on his face. "How was work?" He asked Summer, giving her a quick hug.

She shrugged. "Oh you know, the usual."

The three friends ordered drinks and began chatting about their respective week, getting lost in the conversation and the alcohol, when suddenly, the rock music that had been playing from the jukebox stopped, causing the bar to fall more silent than Summer had ever seen it.

She swiveled in her bar seat, locking eyes on a man in a Hawaiian shirt who had unplugged the machine. A pilot, dressed in his uniform, let out a groan, and Summer rolled her eyes, turning away. The pilots in San Diego were truly the best of the best, and that meant they were some of the cockiest assholes Summer had ever met. She readied herself for the sound of yet another bar brawl, but instead of the sound of a punch being thrown, she heard the sound of a piano starting up.

The Hard Deck had had a piano as long as Summer had been coming in, but beyond a few drunken sailors pressing the keys for a few notes in an attempt to remember Chopsticks or something else as easily unimpressive, she'd never seen it in use.

The Hawaiian shirt man, the one who had unplugged the jukebox, sat behind the keys, playing an old song Summer faintly recalled from her youth.

"You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain,"

Summer startled, almost knocking over her beer, as Joey let out a loud gasp. "Oh my god, I know this song!"

Before either Summer or Thomas could stop them, Joey had joined in with the crowd of others in the bar that clearly also knew the song.

"GOODNESS GRACIOUS GREAT BALLS OF FIRE!"

Summer turned her attention back to her beer as the song went on, until it eventually stopped and the jukebox was plugged back in. All the beer was beginning to get to her bladder, and she knew she'd have to make the dreaded first trip to the bathroom. You know, the one to start the many, many trips she'd be taking throughout the night. It was all downhill from the first bathroom trip.

"Hey, Joey, do you have to pee?" Summer asked, to which Joey quickly shook their head. She glanced over at Thomas, seeing that he was flirting with a handsome civilian dressed in far too much denim, and would clearly not be accompanying Summer to the back of the bar to use the facilities.

"Well, save my spot at least," she said to Joey.

Summer groaned and pried her sweaty legs off of the sticky leather surface of the barstools before heading through the crowd and towards the bathroom.

"Hey, pretty lady," someone called from behind her.

She let out another groan. So it began. Every time new TOPGUN trainees circled in, she'd have to go through the many, many attempts of sailors trying to get in her pants.

Summer turned around, a polite smile on her face. Her eyes locked on the man in front of her, who she recognized as the pilot who'd gotten upset when the jukebox had been turned off.

"Hi," he said, smirking. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"No thank you," she replied.

"No?" He repeated.

"No," she repeated back.

"Oh man, did Hangman just get rejected?" One of the other pilots called out, causing their entire group to erupt into laughter.

She caught the eye of the Hawaiian shirt-wearing piano player, who was watching her with an amused look, and figured it was as good a time as any to make her announcement.

"Since you're all new here, let me give you a heads up. I don't date Navy boys. So don't waste your time. Because you always do," she said, smirking slightly. They were already all checking her out, and she knew exactly how their brains work.

"You don't date Navy boys?" One of the pilots called out. "None of us?"

"None of you," she replied. "Especially you pilot types. You're all the same."

"What's that supposed to mean?" The Hawaiian shirt guy said, an amused grin filling his face.

"You're flighty and you always leave," she replied, shrugging.

The group let out a large guffaw as Summer walked away, satisfied with her response. They'd regret their actions in the coming weeks, when they were sent to her office with itchy private parts or a weird rash or a sinus infection. She could have told them who she was, and why she didn't date Navy boys, but that took all the fun out of it.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ author's note ✫・゜・。.
and chapter one is done! i had a lot of fun writing it, and i hope you all had fun reading. we've finally met summer, and we've met the pilots.

thoughts so far?

xx,
madi