"Breaking the hard deck, insubordination. Are you trying to get kicked out?" Phoenix snapped, walking over to Rooster, who was sitting down.

"Don't worry about it," Rooster dismissed. He wasn't in the mood for this conversation.

"Look, I'm going on this mission," Phoenix paused. "But if you get kicked out, you leave us flying with Hangman." She shuddered. Not that Hangman wasn't one of the best pilots, it's just the fact he is an arrogant dick to most everyone. "Talk to me. What the hell was that?"

Rooster huffed and looked up at her. "He pulled my papers."

"What?" Phoenix sounded shocked. "Who?" Who would want to pull Rooster's papers? He was one of the best pilots Phoenix had known.

"Maverick." Rooster spat the name as if it was poison on his tongue. "He pulled my application to the naval academy. Set me back four years." He glared at the ground and mentally cursed Maverick's name.

"Why would he do that?" Phoenix wondered as some of the respect she had for Maverick faded.

Behind Phoenix, Adam cleared his throat. "Well, maybe if you actually talked to him and asked him why, you'd know," he dryly commented, earning two harsh glares. "Just sayin'. A lot of problems and pain could have been avoided. Some of us are going to the Hard Deck, you two coming?"

"We'll be there," Phoenix spoke before Rooster could dig his hole deeper.

—

"So, Hangman, I do believe you owe me one," Miranda smirked as she sipped her Shirley Temple at the pool table.

Hangman's eyebrows shot up. "You remembered that?" His jaw dropped slightly.

"Owe her what? You two know each other?" Bob's eyes widened. "How does that happen?"

"Should I tell the story or should you?" Hangman asked Miranda with a wide smile. "I seem to remember it differently."

"Oh, I'm telling it," Miranda smirked. "Get your popcorn and drinks everyone! This one is gonna be fun." She beamed and cleared her throat, ready to start her story. "Oh, great." She scowled at Rooster who walked in late with Phoenix and Adam. "Bradley," she coldly greeted.

"Miranda," Rooster replied back in the same tone. "Good to see you," he politely said.

"Likewise," she sarcastically drawled. "Do you mind? We were about to swap war stories." The tension between the pilot and mechanic was so thick it could be cut by a butter knife. Bob awkwardly coughed. "Well, it all started about seven years ago?"

"Roughly. I believe it was six," Hangman corrected, sipping his beer.

Jake Seresin was going to be the death of him. That boy was almost an exact copy of Maverick...maybe even worse. Sure, he liked the pilot. Jake was determined, hard-working, and an amazing pilot. However, his recklessness and arrogance was his downfall. Iceman groaned as he got out of his plane. Jake had left his wingman hanging...again which resulted in both getting shot down during the hop.

"What the hell man!" Jake rolled his eyes as the other pilot call sign "Echo" dressed him down about leaving him out to dry. "We could have had him! But you and your holier than thou attitude made us lose!"

"Just save it." Jake huffed, pushing past Echo and heading toward the showers. He didn't want to talk about it. He knew he messed up, but he'd never admit that to Echo's face. Ice shook his head at the conversation. He'd have to talk with Jake later.

Jake wasn't a troubled kid. He was just angry. He knew what he was doing. It's not his fault everyone else wasn't good enough. He got to the locker room and began to get ready for a shower when... "FUCK!" He yelled as "Tipsy" Echo's WSO punched him in the face. "What the hell?" Jake growled, glaring daggers at Tipsy.

"You know what you did, Seresin. Don't act all innocent." Tipsy glared at Jake before storming off.

"Bitch," Jake huffed, skipping the shower and heading off. He didn't need them anyway. He was perfectly fine on his own. It wasn't his fault they weren't nearly as good as him.

"Just what exactly are you doing in MY repair shop?" Jake's head jerked up. He hadn't heard anyone come in. Then again, he wasn't paying attention. He gently took the ice pack away from his face, flipping it.

Standing before him was a petite girl with dark brown hair and soft green eyes. She was dressed in tan pants with black grease splatters, a black tank top, and an old, worn jacket. He could see a large patch on her upper right arm. She raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

Putting on an unimpressed look, Jake drawled, "Sunbathing. Why do you care?" He winced, pressing the ice pack back against his left eye. Who knew little Tipsy could punch so hard?

Miranda scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Sure," she sarcastically responded, shaking her head. She looked him up and down and whistled. "Nice shiner. What happened?"

Jake watched her pick up a wrench from the tool bench and begin fiddling with the car in the middle of the room. "I was dancing. What do you think?" he snapped, growing even more irritated. Who was she? And couldn't he just be left alone? "Who even are you? Last time I checked, they didn't allow children in the Navy," he sneered.

She laughed and wiped a fake tear from her eye. "God, you really are a dick. The names MIranda, but everyone just calls me Gremlin." She looked back at Jake, expecting him to tell her the story behind the black eye. "Come on! No judgment here. Tell me how you achieved that shiner!" Her green eyes widened with curiosity.

"Tipsy punched me," Jake mumbled, not wanting to admit that the smaller pilot had indeed punched him.

"The lanky guy with black hair?" Miranda raised an eyebrow, biting back a laugh. "Are you serious? He can barely hurt a fly. What did you do?" She bit the inside of her cheek and narrowed her eyes.

"Yeah. We were in the air and I left him to pull a maneuver and get Iceman," Jake explained, setting down the ice block on the crate he was sitting on. "It was a trap and we both were shot down."

"You left your wingman," Miranda realized, a small smile emerging. Growing up, the one lesson beaten into her head was never leave your wingman. Too bad not everyone was raised like that. She fidgeted with a bolt, trying to get it off. "Damn thing won't budge."

Jake couldn't help but laugh at her struggles. He left the ice pack and walked over to her. "So what if I left them. I trusted them to be better. It's not my fault they weren't. Nobody got hurt, and we got Jester at least. Here." He took the wrench and got the bolt off.

"Men and their strong muscles," Miranda teased, shaking her head. She took the bolt from Jake's hand and inspected it. Rusted. It would need to be replaced. "Thanks. Look, Blondie."

"Blondie?" Jake raised an eyebrow, offense clearly evident.

"I don't know your name!" Miranda shot back.

"Lieutenant Jake Seresin, Call sign Hangman." Jake introduced himself, wiping the grease on a rag hanging over the bench.

"Okay, Hangman. I've learned and was taught you never leave your wingman. I may not be a pilot, but that advice works in other areas of life. You always need that one person in life who has you back." Mimi stared into Jake's eyes, a serious expression on her face.

Jake was quiet for a long time. The only sounds in the room were metal clanking and Mimi cursing in Polish and Italian. Jake tensed as loud footsteps came closer and ducked behind the largest crate in the room.

"Miranda," Ice sighed, his pseudo daughter covered in more grease. "Didn't you just clean those? Nevermind," he shook his head, "Have you seen a Lt Jake Hangman Seresin? Tall blond male with green eyes?"

"Nope. Don't know who that is. Sorry, Pops." She smiled at Ice and went back to fixing the engine. "Can we have pierogies for dinner?" She gave him her famous puppy eyes.

Ice raised an eyebrow before sighing. "If he comes in here, tell him I want to see him. We need to talk.'' He turned heel and started to walk out. "Only if you don't come home covered in grease." Footsteps echoed down the hall before fading to nothing.

"Why did you lie to him and POPS?" Jake asked, coming out from his hiding spot. Nobody had ever covered for him like that. Well, Javy did, but that's different. Javy was his best friend. Mimi was just an acquaintance.

Miranda smirked at him, wiping her brow. "You never leave your wingman." Jake was stunned, mouth gaping. "Now, either leave or close your mouth and help me." Jake shrugged, not feeling like going back to face the others.

"So, why did you do it?" Miranda asked Jake after they finished with the car.

"I told you," Jake snapped.

"Touchy," Miranda commented. "No, something else is bothering you. What is it? I know we only just met, but I am great at keeping secrets." Her eyes softened. "I won't push, but you're friendly neighborhood mechanic's ear is always open if you need someone to talk to."

Jake was silent for a long time, debating on whether or not to say something. "There is something."

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