Salvatore [Top Gun: Maverick]

7

"Ok no more for me," Stella concluded, placing the shot cup down. Empty.

"I agree," Captain Mitchell laughed, his face scrunched up from the after burn.

She never pictured herself taking shots with her Top Gun Instructor yet her life always seemed to be full of the unexpected. She left Captain Mitchell to continue his conversation with the bartender, Penny, strolling over to an empty bar stool next. The crowd was thinning out as Natasha and Bob had already left along with a couple other airmen.

Out of the corner of her eye she spied Bradley twirling his keys in his left hand, saying a few goodbyes to the military men they had befriended that night. It was only then that Stella realized she had no ride home, unless it be a creepy Uber.

"Excuse me sir," she said sweetly, tapping the back of Bradley's shoulder.

He turned around with his grin growing across his perfect face.

"What can I help you with, ma'am," he answered, matching her tone.

"I was wondering, if you could be so kind to give me a ride home."

"My mother raised me to be a gentleman, so how could I say no to the pretty lady," he beamed.

  She rolled her eyes at his compliment but let a chuckle escape her lips.

  The pair said their goodbyes to their team though they would most likely see them at the same place in a couple hours. While Rooster led Stella out of the bar making sure she didn't run into anything. Opening the door like a true gentleman, she settled into the passenger seat of his Ford Bronco while he started the engine.

  "If we crash we'll totally die," Stella said, tracing her fingers over the window frames.

  "Excuse me?" Rooster chuckled.

  "Your car. The way it's built. It's definitely not designed to preserve the passengers if we hit something."

  She stared at him afraid she was talking too much.

  "Lucky for you I'm an amazing driver."

  "I got into a car crash once," Stella began as the alcohol in her veins made her more chatty than usual.

  "Really?" Rooster asked, entertaining the conversation.

  "That's where I got this pretty scar," she smiled, turning her face to show the driver. It was a small line right above her left eyebrow. The tiny scarred tissues created some discolor to Stella's perfectly soft skin.

  He took his eyes off the road for a second to take a look. His eyebrows raised over his aviator sunglasses as he gave her a wicked grin. The scar made her look daring and unstoppable, he assumed she had got it from being up in the air but a car crash. It somehow humanized the girl from being this odd superhuman in their presence.

  "I'd assume you got that from flying," Bradley admitted.

  "Well I'm an amazing pilot. Haven't crashed," she smiled, "yet."

  "Apparently not a very good driver." Bradley joked.

"Low hanging fruit," Stella tsked, "It wasn't even my fault."

"Oh I doubt it," he continued to tease, "I've driven behind you on the way to the base."

"Maybe I'll be a race car driver next," Stella sighed.

  "Win the Grand Prix," Bradley joked.

  "I could do it," she confirmed, "If I realllly wanted it."