Osprey: A Topgun Fanfic

The Date

   I have changed my outfit a total of three times now.

Now I stand before the mirror, smoothing out my grey shirt.

Shit. It is wrinkled.

I plop down on the bed with my head in my hands. I have put my hair in an elaborate braid down my back, but from there I am stumped.
I haven't put makeup on, I haven't even bothered to think about shoes. I'm wearing light blue jeans and a off- the - shoulder shirt. I'm not nearly ready, and he is supposed to be here in eight minutes.

Mrs. Evelyn knocks, and I look up.
"Come in!"

She opens the door, peering around the frame.
"Your date is here." She says, smiling. I groan, standing up.

The wrinkled shirt it is, then.

I grab my sneakers, leaving the rejected clothes thrown around my room. I sling a small purse over my shoulder, taking a deep breath. This isn't my first date... but I know why I am nervous.
For the first time, I really, really like the guy I am going out with. Everything about him: his smile, his eyes, hell, even his crazy hair. His charming personality, his ridiculous comments and ability to Fly.

And I really want him to like me.

I clamber down the stairs, giving him a grin. He is standing in the entryway, his hands clasped behind his back. His blue eyes are scanning the pictures on the wall, but when they land on me, he smiles.

"Hey," he says, tilting his head. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah, I think so." I hold out my arms, spinning once. "Is this outfit okay?"

He refused to tell me where we are going, and I was concerned that I would either dress too fancy, or not fancy enough. Thankfully, he is just wearing a t-shirt, jeans, and his flight jacket.

"You look great," he says, grinning. "I like your shirt."

He looks behind me, and I turn, seeing Mrs. Evelyn standing in the doorway. Her eyes are twinkling, and she smiles at him.

"I will have her back before ten, ma'am." Ice says, grabbing my hand gently. She waves us off, the many bracelets on her hand jingling.

"Take your time, hon. You are only young once."

He leads me out the door, adjusting his hand so our fingers are intertwined. I find myself thinking that my hand fits perfectly in his.

  He throws a smile over his shoulder, and I can't help but grin back.  He is driving a old blue truck, a top gun sticker plastered onto the back window.

  "So," I say as he pauses to open the passenger door for me. I nod my thanks, releasing his hand and sliding into the seat. "Where are we going?"

"There's a small mom-and- pop restaurant down by the water." He leans on the door, smiling at me like he is the happiest guy in the world. "Burgers, sandwiches, salads, that kind of thing."

  "Perfect." I say, smiling. He gives me a goofy grin, jogging around the front of the truck.

"How did you get out of babysitting Slider?" I ask as I clip my seatbelt. He starts up the engine.

"I told him that I was busy. I'm sure I will hear about it tomorrow, though." He glances at me, before his eyes return to the road.

"How about Moose?" He asks, amusement in his tone. "Am I going to get the 'You hurt her and I'll kill you' talk?"

  I shrug, looking at his side profile.
  "He's kind of been scared of you since the first day."

  Iceman lifts an eyebrow.
  "Really?"

   "Yes. It's probably your intimidating  pen twiddling." I say, recalling the silver pen that danced around in his hand on our first day.

  He laughs.
   "Intimidating Pen Twiddling?"

   "Yeah ." I say, blushing.

   We stop at a light, and he looks over at me.
  "I don't know that much about you." He states. "What's your favorite color?"

   "Probably blue." I say, glancing at him. "You?"

   "I don't know." He says, tilting his head.

We are quiet for a moment, the quiet hum of the air conditioner as background noise.

"Why did you decide to become a pilot?" I ask.

"I don't really have a reason," he pauses. "My parents always encourage for me to join the military. They thought it would be good for my temper. And I spoke with a jet pilot when I went to training camp...."

We speak the whole ride there, sitting in the car talking for so long that we almost miss our reservation. We get to know each other.
He is the first person I have told about my parents distaste for my flying, besides my grandfather.

They end up mixing up our order, so he ended up with weird- looking shrimp. He said it was good, but every bite he took he made a strange face. I laughed, choking on my water and almost drowning myself.

We talked about the stories for our call signs, and told each other our names.

In short, it was the most fun I had had in my entire life.

***

It's almost nine- fifty when we finally make it back to the house.
We stayed far past closing, laughing and talking until we where the last ones in the restaurant. The owner gave us a free order of fries, telling us to stay as long as we wanted.

I climb out of the car, turning and picking my bag up of the floor. Tom is watching my movements, his icey eyes calm.

"Thanks for wanting to go out with me, Tom." I say. "This is nice."

He meets my gaze.
"Anything for you, Ashley."

I flush, looking down at the ground.
"We should do this again some time, wingman." I say, smiling at him.

He gives me a breathtaking smile, and I think I might faint.
"That would be great." He says. "See you tomorrow, shortstack."

- I love it so much.

Thanks!

-❤️Kena