ꔛ 𓈒 *🌊🖇˚ ᦃ ･ ﹆ ˚🛩️ ◞˚ₓ 🫀⁕˚彡

T W O:
'anyway, don't be a stranger'
── scott street : phoebe bridgers
𝟶:𝟶𝟶 ──◍───── 𝟷:𝟹𝟶

❝ do you feel ashamed
when you hear my name? ❞

〖 🌊 ੈ✩‧₊🛩️ 〗

°。°。°。°。°。°。

Alexa woke up to the annoying sound of her alarm blaring, groaning as she slapped her hand over it, trying to shut it off without even opening her eyes. Just as the peace returned and she thought she might get a few more minutes of sleep, the door to her apartment swung open, and in came Gretzky, her best friend and the human version of a foghorn.

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead!" he said way too loudly for 6 a.m., already rummaging through her fridge like he lived there.

"Gretszky!" she groaned, pulling her pillow over her head. "Why are you here at this ungodly hour? Did you not hear about knocking?"

"Knocking's for strangers," he replied, cracking open a soda. "And we're way past that, babe. Thought you'd want some moral support before heading to Top Gun."

"Did that 'moral support' have to include busting into my apartment and robbing my fridge?"

He grinned. "Yes. Yes, it did."

Alexa rolled her eyes, but she couldn't deny the tiny bit of comfort he brought—at least, when he wasn't trying to drive her insane. She was already on edge, her mind a mess with thoughts about seeing Bradley again. It had been...what, ten years? She hadn't really prepared herself for this, for him. And now, as she got ready to start at Top Gun, the idea of facing him made her stomach twist.

Gretszky, completely oblivious, leaned against the kitchen counter, watching her with a smug grin as she sat up and stretched.

"So, are you nervous about Bradley?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows in that obnoxious way that only he could pull off.

"No, I'm not—" she paused, letting out a sigh. "Okay, maybe a little. But don't go getting any ideas!"

"Oh, don't worry, I'm not getting ideas, Lex. I already have them."

She glared at him, tossing a pillow his way. "I'm going to Top Gun to do my job. He's just...a side character in this story."

"Right, just a side character," he repeated, practically humming with amusement. "A very tall, very muscly side character with a smile that—"

"Enough!" she said, rolling her eyes and getting up. She shoved him out of the kitchen. "I'm here for me, not him."

"Sure, sure," he said, feigning innocence as he plopped down on the couch. "Now, how about breakfast? Since I'm here already, might as well make use of the free food."

. . . . . ╰──╮~ 🛩️ ~╭──╯ . . . . .

As Alexa and Gretsky strolled down the halls of Top Gun, they tried to look as casual as possible—though Alexa could feel her nerves simmering just beneath the surface. It was only yesterday that she'd seen Bradley again at the bar, and the encounter had left her feeling more unsettled than she'd let on.

When they entered the classroom, they slipped into the seats directly behind Hangman, who turned and gave them that cocky, lopsided grin of his.

"Back for round two, Frost?" he asked, as though their banter from last night was still in full swing.

Alexa smirked, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a full response. "Oh, Hangman, didn't expect to see you so soon," she said, settling in.

Gretsky leaned over, muttering, "If he flips that hair back one more time, I'm going to hand him a mirror and leave him to it."

Alexa stifled a laugh, glancing around the room as her gaze briefly, unavoidably, drifted toward the empty chair she assumed Bradley would fill. She took a steadying breath, reminding herself that she had every right to be here. Still, the thought of facing him again in an actual classroom setting made her stomach twist.

Gretsky noticed her glance and nudged her. "You alright?" he asked quietly. "After last night, I mean. That whole... reunion."

Alexa shrugged, keeping her voice casual. "It's fine. Just... weird, you know?"

"Just don't let him get under your skin," Gretsky whispered, sounding more like a protective older brother than ever.

Alexa gave him a grateful smile. "Not planning on it. Besides," she added with a grin, "he's probably too busy trying to impress someone to even notice I'm here."

As if on cue, the door opened, and Bradley walked in. He glanced around the room, his gaze landing on Alexa for a brief second before he looked away, his face unreadable. He moved toward his seat in the front, his back turned as if there wasn't anyone in the world he'd rather avoid more than her.

"Smooth," Gretsky muttered, catching the interaction. "Real smooth."

Alexa rolled her eyes, trying with everything in her not to notice Bradley. She wasn't here for the drama. She was here for her career, for the next step. Nothing—nothing—was going to mess that up. Not even him.

And yet, here she was, sitting in a room full of pilots and the very man who had somehow found his way into her head again. She focused on anything else—the ceiling tiles, the slight hum of the air conditioning, the way the light flickered above her—but nothing could distract her from the pull of his presence. Bradley was here, just a few rows behind her, and it was driving her insane. She'd be lying if she said she didn't miss him, even after everything. But she didn't want to think about that. Not now. Not when she was supposed to be showing the world she was more than just "Pete Mitchell's daughter."

She exchanged a few words with Gretzky, but it felt forced. Every moment felt like a ticking clock, waiting for something to explode. She wasn't ready for whatever was coming next.

Then, a voice rang out, sharp and commanding. "Attention on deck!"

Everyone shot to their feet. Alexa quickly straightened her posture, pretending to pay attention. But her mind was already elsewhere. The entire room's energy shifted, and Alexa could feel it—this was it. Something big was coming, and she wasn't sure she was ready for it.

Warlock, Cyclone, and Hondo all walked in, and with them, the weight of something she couldn't yet name. She stood up straight, trying to look like she belonged, even though her stomach was doing somersaults.

Warlock, ever the presence, walked in front of the room like he was the king of the world, voice booming. "Welcome to your special detachment. Be seated."

A sharp, collective breath filled the room as everyone sat down. Alexa's back was straight, but she had no idea why—her thoughts were spiraling, all over the place. It was like the universe was playing a cruel joke on her. She had to keep it together. She had to.

"I'm Admiral Bates, NAWDC commander," Warlock continued, his voice steady and strong. "You're all TOPGUN graduates, the elite, the best of the best."

And then, the twist. "That was yesterday."

Warlock didn't even blink. He continued like nothing happened, and Alexa snapped her focus back to the front.

"The enemy's new fifth-generation fighter has leveled the playing field," Warlock went on, his voice turning grim. "Details are few, but you can be sure we no longer possess the technological advantage. Success, now more than ever, comes down to the man—or woman—in the box."

The words hung in the air, heavy and thick. Alexa couldn't help but glance at Hangman, who looked like he already knew this was going to be another ego trip. He flashed that smirk at Phoenix, and she shot him a middle finger without hesitation. But it wasn't enough. Alexa couldn't help herself. She locked eyes with Hangman, and without missing a beat, fully flipped him off. There was no subtlety in her move. And damn if it didn't feel good.

Alexa swallowed hard, her heart starting to pound. This was real. This was happening.

"Half of you will make the cut," he said. "One of you will be named mission leader. The other half will remain in reserve." He paused, letting the tension build. "Your instructor is a TOPGUN graduate with real-world experience in every mission aspect you will be expected to master."

"No, no, no," Alexa whispered under her breath, her stomach flipping. She could feel it in her bones. She couldn't bring herself to look back. She didn't dare. But she was terrified that the name she was dreading was about to come out of Warlock's mouth.

Warlock's voice rang out with finality, "His exploits are legendary, and he's considered to be one of the finest pilots this program has ever produced. What he has to teach you will very well mean the difference between life and death."

And then, it hit her.

"I give you Captain Pete Mitchell, Callsign: 'Maverick.'"

Her blood ran cold. The room seemed to freeze in place. For a moment, Alexa couldn't breathe. Every single word Warlock had said was a blur. Everything in the room felt like it was happening on a different plane of existence. Pete Mitchell. Maverick. Her father.

No. No way.

She had been bracing for something big, but not this. Not him.

Her eyes darted around the room, and she could feel the gaze of every person on her, but she wasn't looking at them. She was looking at him—the man who had just walked in front of the class like he was some god. Maverick.

Her father.

Her body went stiff. She didn't know what to do, how to react. The last time she'd spoken to him, he'd been stationed up north, far away from all this mess. And now? Here he was. In front of her. Like it was no big deal.

And worse? She couldn't stand the feeling that he hadn't even thought to tell her. The betrayal hit harder than she cared to admit.

When their eyes met, a flicker of recognition passed between them. But it wasn't just that. There was something in his eyes. Something soft. Almost... apologetic. She could see it. Maverick, the man who never apologized, looking like he wanted to. The man who had chosen everything over her, suddenly looking like he regretted it.

But that didn't matter. Alexa was pissed. And she was hurt. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, the frustration bubbling up. He couldn't just waltz in here like nothing had happened. He couldn't just show up and act like they were okay.

Maverick cleared his throat, and Alexa's focus snapped back to him, even though she didn't want to. "Good morning," he said in that smooth, charming voice of his. But there was something different—something hesitant. Alexa could feel the nerves rolling off of him in waves. Maverick was nervous? The world must be ending.

He continued, "The F-18 NATOPS. It contains everything they want you to know about your aircraft. I'm assuming you know the book inside and out."

The pilots murmured in agreement. "Damn straight," someone said. A few others echoed it.

Maverick tossed the book into the garbage can, and Alexa couldn't help but roll her eyes. Same old Maverick. Rules? What rules? He had never cared about them, and apparently, that hadn't changed.

But the thing was—despite the anger and frustration swirling inside her—Alexa missed him. Damn it, she missed him. And as much as she wanted to pretend like she didn't care, part of her still wanted to run over, throw her arms around him, and demand all the answers she deserved. But she didn't. She couldn't.

Not yet.

She kept her arms crossed, silently glaring at him, her eyes locked onto Maverick as he rambled on about the mission and the F-18, as if nothing had changed. But everything had changed. Everything.

Maverick's voice filled the room, steady and confident, but Alexa wasn't listening. She couldn't. His words felt like they were bouncing off her, each one more distant than the last. She was too busy fighting the storm inside of her—the betrayal, the anger, the hurt. But most of all, she was fighting the part of her that still missed him. Still wanted him to be the dad he had never been.

Maverick didn't notice her stare. Of course he didn't. He was too focused on the job at hand, the endless drone of military talk that he always seemed so comfortable with.

"So does your enemy," Maverick continued, pacing in front of the class, his tone sharp, cutting through the tension in the room. "But what the enemy doesn't know... is your limits. And I intend to test them. Push beyond."

His words stung like a slap, but Alexa refused to let him see it. She wasn't going to let him get to her. Not like this.

Maverick sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he turned to face them, eyes scanning over the room. "Today," he said, voice steady but somehow softer, more deliberate, "we'll start with what you only think you know. Show me what you're made of." He raised an eyebrow, challenging them all.

Alexa could feel the weight of his words pressing down on her. It wasn't just about the mission anymore. It was about him, them, everything that had been left unsaid between them. And it made her angry.

As everyone got up to go to their jets, Alexa stayed exactly where she was, her eyes still locked on Maverick like a hawk. "I'll wait for you at the jet," Gretsky sighed, shooting Maverick a glance before walking away.

Maverick didn't move. He knew Alexa wasn't about to let him off the hook that easily. She was stewing, and he had a feeling she was about to make sure he felt the full force of it.

Alexa stood up quickly, her boots tapping sharply on the floor as she marched toward Maverick, making her way through the group of pilots who were pretending not to notice. She reached him in a few strides, giving him a hard shove in the chest.

"What the hell?" she whisper-yelled, hoping no one would overhear.

Maverick stumbled back slightly, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Ow, okay, I guess I deserved that," he muttered, wincing as he straightened up. He looked down at Alexa with that usual, annoyingly calm expression of his, but she wasn't buying it. Not today.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, crossing her arms tightly across her chest.

Maverick raised an eyebrow, clearly trying to dodge the question. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice far too casual for the tension hanging in the air.

Alexa stared at him for a beat, before rolling her eyes. "Nice try, but I'm being serious." She shot him another glare, the kind of look that could melt steel. "Who did you piss off to get stuck with me again, huh?"

Maverick smirked, clearly trying to act unbothered, but Alexa could see the slightest hint of regret flicker in his eyes.

"Would you believe I volunteered?" he asked, leaning casually against the desk.

"Uh-huh," she deadpanned. "And I'm sure the Easter Bunny just dropped off my flight suit this morning, too."

Maverick chuckled, shaking his head. "You always did have a way with sarcasm."

"Yeah, well, I got it from the best," she muttered under her breath, stepping past him toward her jet. The words felt sharp in her throat, and even though she knew Maverick couldn't see it, she could feel the weight of his gaze like a physical presence on her back. For a split second, she almost turned around—almost let herself look at him, to see if there was any trace of the father she used to know. But the rawness of it made her freeze. She wasn't ready for that. Not now. Not like this.

She rolled her eyes, trying to shake off the growing knot in her stomach. "Whatever," she said with a shrug, masking the emotional turmoil with a quick smirk. She stepped forward and pulled him into a tight, awkward hug. "I missed you," she muttered, her voice quiet and thick with something that felt almost like longing, even if she didn't want to admit it.

Maverick wrapped his arms around her, his grip a little too tight, as if trying to hold on to the pieces of her he couldn't quite reach. "I missed you too, Lex."

Just as they were having their little moment, the sound of footsteps broke the bubble. Bradley Bradshaw walked past them, his eyes flicking between the two of them. He paused for a second, glancing at Maverick, before raising an eyebrow. "I should say something, shouldn't I?" His voice was teasing but there was an undercurrent of something unspoken in it.

Maverick chuckled dryly, rubbing the back of his neck, looking guilty. "Yeah, you probably should."

Alexa shot him a quick glance, her eyes narrowing. "I don't care. Just don't involve me in this bullshit," she said, her tone light but with a bite. She gave Bradley a smirk before walking off, toward Gretsky, who was leaning against the jet, eyebrow raised in silent question.

"You good?" Gretsky asked as Alexa approached, his voice laced with concern but also trying to hide the fact that he knew she wasn't.

"Peachy," she replied, offering him a half-smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

Gretsky nodded, not pressing any further. He had known Alexa long enough to recognize when she wasn't in the mood for small talk. Alexa turned back to the jet, starting to go through the motions of prepping it, but the weight of the situation—of Maverick, of Bradley, of everything unresolved between them—hung heavily on her shoulders.

Then, just as she was about to push it all aside, they both heard Maverick's voice suddenly cut through the air. "Rooster! Bradley! Lieutenant Bradshaw!"

Alexa didn't need to hear the rest. She knew that tone. Maverick's voice was sharp, clipped. Something was wrong. She watched as Bradley turned around to face him, his face an unreadable mask. But the tension in the air was thick, and Alexa could feel it even from where she stood. She knew it wasn't going to end well.

"Stop eavesdropping," she muttered to Gretsky, but even she could hear the slight tremor in her voice. She wasn't sure if it was from the adrenaline of the mission or the knots in her stomach that refused to loosen.

Gretsky didn't crack his usual sarcastic response, didn't make some comment about how it wasn't eavesdropping if they were in plain view. He just nodded, his eyes darkening with understanding. He knew Alexa well enough to know when it wasn't just the mission weighing on her. And right now, the only thing heavier than the jet prep was whatever was going down between Maverick and Bradley.

. . . . . ╰──╮~ 🛩️ ~╭──╯ . . . . .

First up in the dogfighting drills were Rooster, Payback, and Fanboy. Alexa and Gretsky sat in what Maverick liked to call "The Waiting Room," a spot by the radio tower where they could monitor the action and prepare for their own turn. The tension in the air was palpable, every click of the comms and every exchange between the pilots adding to the growing anticipation.

Gretsky had his arms crossed, tapping his foot impatiently, while Alexa sat back in her seat, her mind racing. It wasn't just the adrenaline that kept her on edge; it was everything. The weight of the mission, the nerves, the pressure—it was all there, pressing down on her. But there was something else lurking in the back of her mind, something that kept pulling her thoughts away from the task at hand. Maverick. Bradley. The mess they'd left between them. She wasn't sure if it was the sheer unpredictability of Maverick's presence or the way Bradley had sacrificed himself during the last mission, but Alexa couldn't seem to shake the lingering ache in her gut.

She hated how much she cared. How every time Bradley made a move, her heart skipped. How every time she saw him, a knot tightened in her chest. But he didn't know. He couldn't. And Alexa sure as hell wasn't going to let him.

Up in the air, Payback and Fanboy were joking around, their voices full of the cocky energy that every pilot had in spades. As the dogfighting exercise began, they struck a deal with Maverick—200 push-ups if they lost. Alexa smirked, rolling her eyes. "Those idiots are gonna be sore tomorrow." She muttered under her breath, though a part of her admired their carefree attitude. Maybe it was easier to act that way when you didn't have anything left to prove.

Gretsky snorted, his eyes glued to the screen. "They're gonna regret that," he said, his tone barely more than a whisper, but Alexa could hear the amusement in it. He was right. Maverick didn't let anyone off easy. Not when he was running the show.

Minutes ticked by, each second stretching out like an eternity as the sounds of fighter jets slicing through the air crackled through the speakers. Alexa's fingers tightened on the armrest, trying to steady her breath. This was it. Her chance to show that she was more than just the girl trying to prove herself. But as the comms lit up with exchanges between pilots, Alexa's focus drifted.

Bradley. Always the damn hero. The comms lit up again, and she heard Payback's voice, tense and crackling with the pressure of the moment. "Bradley! Move!"

It was too late.

Bradley, always willing to take the hit for the team, positioned himself in the line of fire, absorbing the impact to protect the others. He always did this. Always put the team first, even at the cost of his own safety. Alexa's stomach twisted at the thought, but she pushed it aside, trying to focus on what she was supposed to do.

Gretsky glanced at her, his expression shifting from his usual easygoing demeanor to one of concern. "Dude's got a death wish, doesn't he?"

Alexa's jaw tightened, but she didn't answer. Instead, she watched as Bradley's jet veered off, the mission temporarily over for him. Her gut churned as she watched him drop from the screen, knowing exactly how he felt—the same way she did every time he did something like this. She hated it. She hated how much it made her feel.

"Guess that's 200 push-ups," Alexa muttered, trying to shake the thoughts out of her head. But the words felt hollow. She didn't find anything funny about it. Not when she knew what it meant for Bradley—and for herself. She could almost feel the weight of the push-ups pressing on her own shoulders.

Gretsky and Alexa made their way toward their jets, their boots pounding against the tarmac. They passed Rooster, still in his flight suit, doing his push-ups with a grimace on his face. For a moment, Alexa felt a flicker of sympathy, but it quickly faded as they prepared for their own turn.

They were assigned to fly with Harvard, a pilot Alexa had worked with briefly when she was stationed in Alaska. Their relationship had been, at best, professional. At worst, cold. Harvard had an over-inflated sense of his own importance, and Alexa had little patience for pilots like him.

"Keep the tarmac down for me, brother, 'til I get back!" Harvard yelled toward Rooster, his voice thick with confidence—or maybe overconfidence. Alexa and Gretsky exchanged a look, and without a word, they both rolled their eyes.

"Asshat," Gretsky muttered under his breath.

"Yeah, you're not wrong," Alexa replied, her tone flat as she shook her head. Harvard always had to make a spectacle of everything, and she was already dreading the upcoming flight. He wasn't her favorite person. But she was a professional. She'd do her job. Even if he made it harder than it needed to be.

Minutes later, the familiar hum of engines roared to life as they made their way to the skies. The surge of adrenaline was instantaneous. This was where she belonged. Up here. The rest of the world fell away, and Alexa focused, shutting out the noise in her head. She didn't need to be thinking about Bradley right now. Not when she was about to enter the dogfight of her life.

Gretsky was backseating for Bolter, and as Alexa glanced over, she saw him giving a thumbs-up, his face set in a determined expression. He was all business today, which was rare. Usually, Gretsky was full of sarcastic commentary, but not now. Maverick didn't give them the luxury of distractions.

"Alright, let's see what you've got. And remember—if you're not feeling it, you can always drop out. But you won't learn anything that way," Maverick's voice crackled through the comms.

Alexa didn't respond. She didn't need to. She was ready. But even as she said that to herself, her stomach tightened with the pressure of it all. Maverick was unpredictable. 

The jets split up, and within seconds, Maverick was on her tail, faster than she could react. She swerved hard to the left, trying to shake him off, but he was too quick. Maverick was relentless, a beast in the sky, and there was no way she was getting away without a fight.

"Stay sharp," Gretsky's voice came through her comms. "Bolter's got your six."

Alexa's eyes flicked to the radar. Bolter was there, right behind him, keeping pace. That was good. But it didn't matter. Maverick was already on her, close enough to almost feel the heat of his exhaust on her tail.

"Gotcha," Maverick's voice rang out, smooth and calm. Too calm.

"Dammit," Alexa muttered, unable to hide her frustration as Maverick's jet disappeared from view, signaling her defeat.

After landing, the shame of it all weighed heavily as she and Gretsky walked back toward Hondo. The instructor was smirking at them, clearly enjoying the spectacle of their failure. And then there was Harvard, who was now joining them, clearly too eager for attention.

"All fun and games, huh?" Alexa asked, trying to hold back a smirk.

Harvard shot her a glare. "Shut up." He jumped to the ground, starting his push-ups with an exaggerated grunt.

Alexa shook her head, but there was no denying the rush still running through her veins. She wasn't about to let this defeat define her. Not today. Not when the real fight was just beginning.

. . . . . ╰──╮~ 🛩️ ~╭──╯ . . . . .

When they got back to the "waiting room," Alexa walked past Rooster, their eyes meeting for a split second. Neither of them held the gaze, and without a word, they both quickly looked away. The silence between them was thick, but Alexa wasn't going to let it get to her—not now, anyway.

Gretsky and Alexa made a beeline for the desk, where Gretsky pulled out a deck of Uno cards from his backpack. Alexa smirked, shaking her head. She'd learned long ago that Gretsky never missed an opportunity to turn a dull moment into a game. She dropped into a chair with a sigh, ready to shut her brain off for a bit.

As Gretsky shuffled the cards, Alexa leaned back in her chair, letting the sounds of the others fill the air. Up in the sky, Hangman was doing what he did best—taking shots at Phoenix and Bob. Alexa overheard him teasing Bob through the comms, his voice dripping with that cocky, too-good-for-you tone.

"How about we tell everyone what 'Bob' really stands for?" Hangman's voice was light, but there was something mischievous lurking beneath it.

Alexa couldn't help but grin. She knew where this was going.

With a laugh, Hangman threw out his own suggestion. "Wait, I got it—'Baby On Board.'" The sound of his laughter was almost too loud through the comms, and Alexa could practically feel Bob's discomfort all the way down here. It was a typical Hangman move—always poking at the weak spots just to get a rise.

The laughter in the comms faded, and Alexa could hear the shift in the air as the pilots refocused on the drill. Despite the jokes and jabs, everyone knew the stakes. They'd be back in the air soon enough, and the real work would start. The adrenaline, the sweat, the sharp focus that was so ingrained in all of them—it was coming.

Gretsky finally finished shuffling the cards, looking up with a grin that matched Alexa's. She wasn't going to let the tension from the drill drag her down. Not when there were games to be played and distractions to be had. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table, trying to shake off the unease that had settled in her gut.

She stole another glance at Rooster. This time, she didn't look away. They didn't need words to fill the space between them. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, but it was his problem, not hers. She wasn't going to let it affect her right now.

"Your move," Alexa said, tapping the table, her voice light despite the heaviness in the air. She was trying, hard, to ignore the tension that still lingered in the background—between her and Rooster, and in her own mind. But there was no time for that now. There were cards to play and a game to win.

Gretsky caught her eye, his lips curling into an amused smile. They both fought the urge to laugh. Typical Hangman, always stirring the pot. But at least it kept things from getting too serious.

Then, as expected, the game in the sky came to its inevitable conclusion. Hangman, Phoenix, and Bob all ended up getting shot down.

🛩️🛩️🛩️

AUTHORS NOTE !

idk how to feel about this chapter . . . it super boring and hard to write.

anyways, i decided to split the dogfighting scenes into two days because watching the movie it looks like it was. next chapter there will be a alexa and bradley conversation !!!! yayyyy

alssooooo . . . if anyone is interested in peter parker (tom hollands) i just started a new fic! so go check that out if you like !

ANYWAYS . . . sorry this chapter is SOOOO boring  but next chapter will be better, see you fridayyyy!!!