Miranda woke to a high pitched scream she couldn't believe belonged to her father. She groggily rubbed her eyes and wondered why she was in her own bed. Memories of the previous night came flooding back and Miranda tensed. More banging and clanging came from the downstairs kitchen, so Miranda forced herself to get up. Warm sunlight filtered in through her bedroom window.

Dressed in grease stained tan work pants, an equally stained jacket, and a blue t-shirt and hair up in a ponytail, Miranda found her father cursing out a small creature that was circling his toast on the counter. She stifled a laugh. "What's going on, Dad?"

"What is that thing? How did it get in here?" Maverick asked with wide eyes, glaring at the creature.

Miranda's eyes lit up. "Gummy!" she cooed and picked up the pure white sugar glider, hugging her close. "How did you get here?" Maverick huffed and gave her a note Ice had left. She read it and smiled. "So, do ya mind if I stay here instead of my apartment?" she asked with wide puppy eyes.

"I thought that was already decided?" Maverick's eyes gleamed as he took a sip of his coffee. "I have my first class today, and you have stuff to move over from your apartment. When is your lease up?"

"Next month." Miranda allowed Gummy to snuggle in her jacket pocket as she made herself a cup of hot chocolate. She calculated the carbs and adjusted her pump to give her the insulin she would need. "And, Gummy is a Sugar Glider, Dad. So, expect me to put up some shelves, swings, and other toys for her and her friends."

"You have more? Of course you do," Maverick laughed, shaking his head. "Listen, Bradley is going to be around town and stuff, please, don't kill him. I don't exactly know what happened between you two. If you can, try to talk things out." He looked at his daughter with concern. "He's mad at me, and I am going to try to fix things. Promise me you will try as well?"

Miranda glared daggers at her father. "No promises, but if he wants to talk, he knows where he can find me." She chugged her hot chocolate. "But if he says even the tiniest thing wrong, I won't hesitate to punch him in the throat."

Maverick sighed and shook his head. "You do you," he smiled. "I have some pilots to teach. I'll be back later." He grabbed his jacket and glasses. "Try not to do something that results in the house being burned down."

"That was one time!" Miranda shrieked. Maverick laughed as he left the house. Miranda glared at him through the kitchen window. Rolling her eyes, she unlocked her phone and called someone to help her. "Hey, Evan, my best co-worker. Mind helping me out for the day? I can pay you back."

—

Derek Kazanksy sat at the back of the room across the row sat his twin brother, Adam. Warlock spoke at the front of the room about Maverick, which Derek already knew who was teaching the class for this top secret mission. He stifled a laugh as Maverick walked between the desks. Hangman's reaction was by far the best one. "Pops, eh?" Adam laughed. Hangman glared back at Adam.

"Hello," Maverick smiled at the group, smile faltering under Rooster's hateful glare. He held up a paper book. "The F-18 natops. It contains everything they want you to know about your aircraft." He looked around the room. "I'm assuming you know the book inside and out."

"Damn straight."

"Damn right."

"You got it," Hangman smirked, putting his toothpick back in his mouth, a smug expression clear to see.

Maverick dropped the book in the trash with a loud thud. "So does your enemy." Smiles fell and a sense of dread fell upon the glass. Derek and Adam shared a look and shuffled in their seats. What was the mission really about?

"But what the enemy doesn't know is your limits." Maverick's voice echoed throughout the canopy. I intend to find them," his gaze went from aviator to aviator, "test them," he met eyes with Rooster, "push beyond." He cleared his throat. "Today we'll start with what you only think you know. You show me what you're made of," he challenged the pilots and WSOs. "Let's get to it." Maverick dismissed the aviators to get ready for the first hop of the day.

About twenty minutes later, Maverick went out to prep his F-18, pausing to call out to Bradley. Adam and Derek paused to watch things unfold. It wasn't going well. Phoenix, Hangman, and Coyote watched as well.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw!" Maverick yelled.

Rooster paused and turned to look at Maverick. "Yes, sir?"

"Let's not do this again," Maverick half-warned half-pleaded.

"You gonna wash me out?" Rooster scoffed, daring Maverick to do it again. Anger coursed through his veins.

"That'll be up to you," Maverick spoke tersely. He wasn't going to start a fight. No, he had to train the pilots to survive a suicide mission. There was no time for fighting.

"Am I dismissed, sir?" Rooster cocked his head. Maverick and Rooster exchanged a few words before the angry Lieutenant Bradshaw stormed to his plane. Maverick sighed deeply and pushed back unwanted thoughts and pain. He couldn't afford to be distracted.

The pilots were separated into a few groups. Unfortunately Derek was in the first group with Rooster, Payback, and Fanboy. Three on one wasn't exactly fair, but hey, who said battle was ever going to be fair training or not?

Maverick's voice echoed through the radio in the lounge that overviewed the landing strips and the plane radios. Adam smirked at the rules. "Sounds like a grand old time."

"This guy needs an ego check," Hangman said, playing with a model plane.

"We'll see to that!" one of the other pilots cheered, clapping hands.

Adam chuckled. "Y'all can try."

"What say we put some skin in the game?" Payback asked into the comm.

"What do you have in mind?" Maverick asked, intrigued. Derek didn't like where this was going.

"Whoever gets shot down first has to do 200 push-ups." Derek could hear the smile in Payback's voice and cursed him out in Polish. Adam choked on his spit. Derek had forgotten to turn off his comms.

"Guys, that's a lot of pushups," Maverick grinned before chiding Derek for the language even though not many of the other pilots could understand him.

"They don't call it an exercise for nothing," Fanboy laughed.

"Jesteś na cienkim, pieprzonym lodzie, Fanboy." Hotshot warned. *

"Come again?" Fanboy asked.

"Fight's on. Let's turn and burn." Maverick put on his mask and flew up between Payback and Rooster, cheering with joy. The fight was on. Rooster and Payback split up while Hotshot dove down. Maverick laid eyes on Payback and went after him.

"Rooster, where are you?" Payback shouted, swerving to avoid getting shot.

"I got your back. I'm coming." Rooster announced, coming in from behind Maverick. "Hang in there. Hang in there." He tried to get a lock on the older pilot.

"Hurry up, man! Hurry up!"

"Payback, break right." Rooster ordered.

"Breaking right." Payback broke a hard right.

"Rooster just saved your life, fellas. But it's gonna cost him." Maverick taught, just barely missing a lock on Rooster.

"Not this time, old man." Roster growled, diving.

"Don't let him get to you, Maverick," Hotshot warned into the comms, trying to get the drop on Maverick as well as keeping him from doing something stupid.

"Rooster, you're too low! Pull up! You're hitting the hard deck!" Payback shouted.

Rooster pulled up, but got shot. The dogfight didn't last much longer. Payback and Fanboy got out soon after, and Hotshot was shot down. Maverick cheered and was glad he wasn't subjected to two-hundred pushups.

Hotshot shook his head. Sweat trickled down his face as Hondo counted his pushups. He couldn't help but glance over at Rooster. It wasn't good. He looked pissed.

'How are you gonna fix this one, Uncle Mav?'

*You are on thin fucking ice, Fanboy.

Hey guys!

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Comments and votes are appreciated. I love hearing from you all!

Have a wonderful day!

~Kat