Pete Mitchell, more commonly known as Maverick, walked the halls of Top Gun once more. He hadn't been there in over 30 years, and now here he was. Staring at a picture of him and Iceman. One that cemented their long-standing friendship after a bitter rivalry. 

Soon enough, he was directed into a conference room, greeted by two people who obviously outranked him. (In official rank only, no one truly outranked him in experience, at this point.)

The first man, younger but stern, spoke first. “Your reputation precedes you.” 

Maverick, unable to tell if this was a slight at him, only replied with a “Thank you, sir.” 

Turns out he was right. “Wasn’t a compliment. I’m Admiral Beau Simpson. I’m the air boss. I believe you know Admiral Bates.” 

Maverick did, in fact, know him. “Warlock, sir.” The man in question nods in greeting. 

Trying to break the very obvious tension in the room, Maverick starts to talk. “Must admit, I wasn’t expecting an invitation back.” 

Warlock raises an eyebrow. “They’re called orders, Maverick. You two have something in common. Cyclone here was first in his class back in ’88.” 

‘Actually, sir, I finished second. Just want to manage expectations,” Maverick finished with a smile. Unfortunately, it did nothing. He sighed before getting back on track. “The target…” 

Cyclone, taking the cue, starts off. “Is an unsanctioned uranium enrichment plant built in violation of a multilateral NATO treaty. The uranium produced there represents a direct threat to our allies in the region. The Pentagon has tasked us with assembling a strike team and taking it out before it becomes fully operational.” 

Warlock continues, gesturing to the screen behind Maverick. “The plant sits in an underground bunker at the end of this valley. Said Valley is GPS-jammed and defended by an extensive surface-to-air missile array serving a limited number of fifth-generation fighters, which in turn are backed up by a plentiful reserve of surplus aircraft. Even a few old F-14s.” 

“Seems like we’re not the only ones holding on to old relics,” Cyclone digs. He was not a fan of Maverick, not in the slightest. 

Warlock gets to the point. “What’s your read, captain?” 

Maverick cleared his throat before analyzing the screen. “Well, sir, normally this would be a cakewalk for the f-35’s stealth, but the GPS-jamming negates that. And a surface-to-air threat necessitates a low-level laser-guided strike tailor-made for the f-18. I figure two precision bombs, minimum. Makes it four aircraft flying in pairs. That is one hell of a steep climb out of there, exposing you to all the surface-to-air missiles. You survive that, it’s a dogfight all the way home.” 

Cyclone and Warlock looked at each other during his explanation. Love him or hate him, Maverick knew what he was talking about. “All requirements for which you have real-world experience.” 

Maverick shook his head. “Not in the same mission, sir. No. No, someone’s not coming back from this.” 

“Can it be done or not?” 

But Maverick needs more information. “How soon before the plant becomes operational?” 

Warlock is quick to give it. “Three weeks. Maybe less.” 

Maverick, reading the situation in front of him, gives his answer. “Well, it’s been a while since I’ve flown an f-18, and… I’m not sure who I’d trust to fly the other three. But I’ll find a way to make it work.” 

Unfortunately, it wasn't the answer they wanted. In fact, it was the direct opposite. 

“I think you misunderstand, captain,” Warlock informs him. 

“Sir?” 

Cyclone, a bit too smugly, in my opinion, delivers the blow. “We don’t want you to fly it. We want you to teach it.” 

Maverick needs to confirm he heard right. “Teach, sir?”

Cyclone clicks a button before gesturing back to the screen. “We’ve recalled 12 top gun graduates from their squadrons. We want you to narrow that pool down to six. They’ll fly the mission.” Noticing the wistful stare Maverick is directing towards the screen, he asks, “Is there a problem, captain?” 

Maverick deadpans. “You know there is, sir.” 

And he does. “Yeah. Bradley Bradshaw, aka ‘Rooster’. I understand you used to fly with his old man. What was his call sign?” 

Maverick, unable to forget his once best friend, replies, “‘Goose’, sir.” 

Cyclone just has to rub salt into the still open wound. “Tragic what happened.” 

Warlock, who had been there to see the aftermath, intercepts. “Captain Mitchell was cleared of any wrongdoing. Goose’s death was an accident.” 

But Cyclone needs to determine if this is going to cause problems for this mission. “Is that how you see it, captain? Is that how Goose’s son sees it?” 

Maverick is fed up with the comments. “With all due respect, sir, I’m not a teacher.” 

“You were a Top Gun instructor before.” 

Maverick nearly scoffs. “That was almost 30 years ago. I lasted two months. It’s not where I belong.” 

But Cyclone is also just as fed up. “Then let me be perfectly blunt. You were not my first choice. In fact, you weren’t even on the list. You are here at the request of Admiral Kazansky. Now, Iceman happens to be a man I deeply admire, and he seems to think that you have something left to offer the Navy. What that is, I can’t imagine. You don’t have to take this job. But let me be clear: This will be your last post, captain. You fly for top gun, or you don’t fly for the Navy ever again.” 

Letting that sink in, Warlock decides to break the staring competition the two men have seemingly entered. “You are not the only person we called back to assist in teaching, captain.” He nods to the man posted outside the door. 

Maverick raises an eyebrow, but before he can question it, the door opens again. And in walks a woman that to anyone else would be intimidating. (Okay, she was just a little intimidating, but Maverick wasn't about to admit that). 

“This is NCIS Special Agent Johanna Kaufmann.” 

☽☆☾   ☽☆☾   ☽☆☾

After giving a rundown of what Jo's role in this mission would be, the two were dismissed from the base. 

Once they made their way outside, Jo turned to Maverick. “Anyone who can piss off Admiral Killbride has my immediate respect.” She sticks out her hand for a shake. 

Maverick lets out a laugh, grasping her hand. “Hey now, I don't do it on purpose. I just didn't like his orders.” The two share a smirk. “How do you know him, anyways? I have seen or heard from him in years.” 

Jo lets out a semi sarcastic laugh. “He's the new head of the NCIS OSP.” At Maverick's looks, she elaborates. “Office of Special Projects. He's my new boss. Let's just say it's taking a while to adjust.” 

Mav nods his head. “Yeah, from what I remember, he was a hardass for sure.” 

Jo only nods at that before checking the time. “I should get going. I need to get some groceries before heading home.” She had gotten permission to use a safe house NCIS had set up near the base. 

Maverick, wanting to get to know his fellow instructor a bit more, invites her out. “I'm going to the bar in town, The Hard Deck. I've heard it's the place to be from Base. Maybe the detachment will be there.” 

But Jo shakes her head. “I'm all good, but thanks for the offer. I'm gonna settle in before the crazy starts.” 

Maverick understands that. “Well then, it was good to meet you, Johanna. See you in the morning.” 

She responds in kind before heading to her car. But as she gets back to the house, she can't stop thinking about the offer. 

Maybe, just maybe, she'll stop by. Chances are, she won't even go in, just observe from the outside. 

After all, it's what she did best. 

☽☆☾   ☽☆☾   ☽☆☾

Turns out, Johanna did end up going to the Hard Deck. Of course, she stayed outside, more on the beach side of the bar. That way, she could always say she was just walking the beach. 

Jo could hear the bar long before she could see it. The loud and rowdy but fun atmosphere spilled onto the beach. 

She peered into the bar from down below, catching sight of a few of her detachment letting loose for probably the last night. They had hell coming their way, and there wouldn't be a lot of time to relax like this. 

It was the next face Jo saw that had her breath catching in her throat. There he was. 

Javy Machado.

She had seen his picture when she got the mission file. Of course, she knew they would be seeing each other again. But she hadn't exactly prepared herself, no matter how much she knew she needed to. 

That one night stand, just over a year ago, had been stuck in her head. There was just something about the man that wouldn't leave her mind. 

They had a good time at the bar where they met, went back to his place, and well, you know the rest. 

But when she had woken up, slightly hungover, there was an urgent message from the office. She was already late, based on the multitude of texts and calls from Deeks. 

So she got dressed as quickly as possible, got an Uber back to the bar, and left from there. She had a change of clothes in her car anyway. 

It wasn't until she was almost at the office that she realized she hadn't gotten Javy’s number. And the more she thought about it, maybe it was for the best. 

Jo had a dangerous job. She had asked Kensi and Deeks how they did it, asked Sam how he and Michelle had done it, asked Callan how he and Anna did it. 

None of them could give her the answers she was looking for. 

But Jo had also seen how this job can tear apart a relationship as well. There was just too much risk that she wasn't willing to take. 

Little did Jo know, Javy was 100% ready and willing to do just that. If only she could see what was right in front of her.  

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Word count: 1,706

Here we go!! So Jo is very self destructive in her relationships, as she doesn't want to get hurt. 

She was discharged because of an incident and has witnessed and lost many friends and colleagues working for NCIS. So it's gonna be a challenge for her to understand that someone is willing to take that risk and for her to actually be in a good mental state to take it with them. 

It's gonna be a journey, so buckle in cause it only gets better (or worse) from here!!

So see you next chapter. Bye guys!!