Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
BRADLEY DROVE KRISTEN HOME THAT NIGHT, dropping her off with a solemn kiss to her forehead and an ask to come inside; she answered no, wanting some time to herself. Her and Bradley had sure gotten onto eachother's better side lately, but that didn't mean she wanted to cry in his arms. She didn't want to appear weak, that was her biggest fear.
She woke up late for once in her life, her alarm being set off half an hour too late. To say Kristen panicked was an understatement, rummaging through her house to move faster only made her slower as she stopped everytime to pick up anything she'd dropped or knocked over.
Just her luck, she thought, knocking down a few of her picture frames when pulling her jacket from her bedside drawer. A delicate crack pierced the frames as they toppled over eachother. For the only moment that moment, she just couldn't lift them up to see the damage.
Kristen rushed to the base, hoping that at least the Admirals weren't sitting in on her training. She gulped at the sight of Admiral Beau Simpson pacing down the classroom, except the confusion of his poured onto her as she noticed a major detail; it was an empty classroom.
And it was an empty Tarmac too.
"Good morning Admiral Simpson," Kristen cleared her throat as she walked through the door, "I apologise for my lateness....uh... where is everyone?"
"I'm asking myself the same damn question Kazansky," He furrowed his brows, "There's nobody here. Not even a note left behind. I'm not enjoying Maverick's little games."
"They're games for sure, but he wouldn't be doing anything to jeopardise the mission," She affirmed, "What'd you talk about last time you saw him, Admiral?"
"We talked about needing to make a team."
"Oh fuck," Kristen facepalmed herself, jolting her head upright to excuse her language. Admiral Beau instead nodded waiting for her answer, "You're gonna have a field day with this one."
——
KRISTEN AND ADMIRAL SIMPSON EVENTUALLY ARRIVED AT THE BEACH, and to her suspicion there her team was with Maverick — playing dogfight football.
"You've gotta be kidding me," Admiral Beau threw on his sunglasses as the two exited, "This is what he thinks is productive?"
"It's a waste of time," She huffed, her arms crossed as the two walked down the sand. Maverick was grinning hard, his arms out wide as he ushered the two over.
"Glad you could make it, Frosty!" Maverick cheered, "Get in there!"
"I'm good," She rolled her eyes, "This isn't gonna help me learn to fly that route, I'll head back after I say hi to Penny. We need to be training."
"No," Maverick firmly replied, "You're gonna go out there with your teammates, and you're gonna play."
"What is this Maverick?" Admiral Beau interrupted, staring down at Maverick who shook his head, "It's dogfight football, offence and defense at the same time. Pretty cool."
