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Admiral “Iceman” Kazansky rubbed his face as he sat up in bed, Sarah still sound asleep beside him. He sighed, foggy gaze turning to the alarm clock.
0600.
On a Saturday.
He bit back a groan, glancing at the closed curtains where the first rays of dawn were fighting to get in. He really didn’t want to get up, but he wasn’t going to be able to fall back asleep. Besides, he should make sure the coffee was going. Ron and Anne were visiting, the couple currently asleep in the guest room down the hall, and he wasn’t in the mood to fight Slider for coffee.
Yeah, he should probably get up.
With another soft sigh he stretched, glancing at Sarah. She was turned towards him, face half-buried in her pillow, expression peaceful in sleep.
She was beautiful.
He brushed some hair out of her face absently, before quietly sliding out of bed. He ran through the bathroom and tossed on his bathrobe, tying the sash as he left their bedroom, closing the door behind him.
As he padded down the hall, his attention perked when he heard something in his living room. Brow furrowing, he slowed, staying close to the wall as he approached. Slider and Anne were the only ones scheduled to visit, and the only other person who might break in who also happened to be in the area, that he could think of, was Mav, but the menace should be in his own house.
Ice paused for a moment, listening. Faint rustling greeted his ears, alongside some soft snoring and sleepy mumbles. It certainly didn’t sound like any sort of threat.
He peeked around the corner, and was torn between smiling and sighing.
Sprawled across his living room were seven of Mav’s kids, almost all of whom he recognized only from their files. Rooster, undoubtedly the brains behind the breaking and entering, was sprawled on his carpet in the space between one arm of the couch and the coffee table. Lying on the couch above him was Phoenix, while the other arm of the wrap-around couch housed her WSO, Bob. In front of Bob on the floor was Payback. Hangman had claimed his recliner while Coyote was curled up in the armchair. Finally, Fanboy was stationed in front of his TV, feet dangerously close to his pilot’s face and limbs spread. Each had one of Ice’s blankets covering them, obviously stolen from the linen closet, with the exception of Fanboy, whose blanket was in a crumpled heap beside him.
Ice stood there for a long moment, watching them silently, before a soft huff of laughter had him turning. He sensed a couple of the kids beginning to stir behind him.
Slider was also eyeing the scoundrels, and shot an amused look at Ice.
“I didn’t know Mav’s kids were gonna crash here?”
Ice huffed, running a hand through his hair and turning back to the kids. “Neither did I. I didn’t have any new messages this morning.”
There was a sharp gasp from the living room, drawing their attention towards the noise as they heard some more of the kids becoming cognizant. Hangman, now wide awake, was sitting up in the recliner, watching them with wide eyes. Ice cocked an eyebrow, staring the younger man down silently. Slider snorted under his breath, crossing his arms as he watched the staring contest.
Bob, meanwhile, was the second to fully awaken, and snatched his glasses off the coffee table, eye widening with recognition when he saw them. He glanced first at Ice, shrinking back a little, before his gaze found Slider.
“Admiral Kerner!” Bob squeaked, scrambling to sit up and bring his feet to the floor, consequently on Payback, who yelped, jerking back with a scowl before he caught sight of the admirals and froze.
“Hey, kiddo.” Slider tossed out easily, ducking past Ice to get to the coffee machine. Ice resisted a scowl.
Coffee hog.
And in his house.
Hangman opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. He blinked at them a few more times before sending a glare at Bradley.
“Rooster!” He hissed softly, stretching over and kicking the blond’s shoulder.
Rooster swatted him with a half-asleep grumble, but was smacked in the face by a couch pillow, courtesy of Phoenix. The brunette was also staring at Ice with wide eyes, all of them were now, actually, sans Bradley. Ice wasn’t sure if he should be amused or not by the fact that they all recognized him despite having just woken up.
He languidly made his way over to Slider, settling against the island while his best friend poured them each a cup of coffee. Experience told him that it could take a while for them to get Rooster conscious.
“Rooster, get your butt up now.” Phoenix clipped. Ice nodded to Slider in thanks when the older man slid over a mug of coffee, bringing it to his lips to sip from and silently watching them try to rouse his nephew. Slider leaned against the counter next to him, smirking as he watched their morning’s entertainment.
“Why?” Previously mentioned nephew grumbled, grabbing at the pillow when Phoenix hit him again. He missed, and so halfheartedly got up on one elbow, following the other’s frankly-terrified gazes to the kitchen.
“Oh.” Rooster yawned, sending them a small wave. “Mornin’ Ice. Sli.”
Ice nodded with a small smile and Slider chuckled. “Morning, kiddo. What’re y’all doin’ here?”
Bradley shrugged, yawning again as he waved a hand in a vague gesture. “Were at the bar a little late and weren’t really in the mood for driving all the way to housing. Here was closer and I didn’t think you’d mind.”
“You’re always welcome, Roo.” Ice assured, ignoring the incredulous stares the kids were directing at him and Bradley. “Why didn’t you take the basement? Would’ve been more comfortable.”
Rooster shrugged again. “Knew Sli and Anne were visiting, but I wasn’t sure if anybody else was. Didn’t wanna bug ‘em.”
Slider barked a laugh. “How considerate of you.”
Rooster grumbled at him, sending the older man an annoyed middle finger, much to the other Daggers’ horror.
“Rooster!” Phoenix again slapped Roo with her pillow, earning an annoyed yelp and a scowl.
“What?”
“I–” For once she seemed unsure of herself, and sent the other aviators a pleading look for someone to talk sense into Rooster.
Ice hid a smile in his coffee. Good luck with that.
“Bradshaw, that’s the COMPACFLT.” Hangman growled, as if said man couldn’t hear him. “You said that we were staying at your uncle’s?!”
Slider almost choked at that, cackling as he quickly set down his coffee. Ice smirked, watching as Bradley sent the other blond an innocent look. However, his dark eyes were twinkling with mirth, mustache twitched up just enough that it was obvious he knew exactly what he was doing.
Brat.
Slider, laughter subsiding, decided to intervene. “Ah. So I take it he didn’t tell you who his uncle was? You kids really should know better than to trust someone who was raised by Maverick.”
“Don’t think you can stick all the blame on Mav, Sli.” Ice offered, slightly amused. “Nick was just as bad, so at least some of it is in the kid’s blood.”
“True. True.” Slider nodded sagely, stroking his chin with one hand. Bradley snorted, flopping down onto his back once more and shifting to get comfortable. The other kids stared at him, then back up at Ice and Slider.
“We’re–we’re sorry for breaking in, Sir.” Bob was the first to stammer. “We didn’t realize this was your house.”
“Bradley said you wouldn’t mind!” Fanboy agreed, now cross legged and leaning against the cupboards under the TV.
“Yes, Sir. It was Bradley’s idea!” Payback immediately supported his WSO.
Slider snorted while Bradley grumbled a half-amused, half-annoyed, “Straight under the bus.”
“That’s how you know they’re good friends, Brad.” Ron offered, finishing his coffee. “They’re the first to sell you out.”
Ice sighed, mind beginning to wander towards breakfast since they now apparently had Mav’s kids to feed. He could kick them out, of course, but he knew that if he did Sarah would throttle him and Mav would sulk, or laugh, so it was safer all the way around to just feed them himself.
His musing was broken by a phone ringing, further investigation showing that said phone was currently charging on the counter. A quick glance at the caller ID immediately solidified the phone belonged to Bradley.
“Mav’s callin’, bud.” Bradley sat up at that while Ice answered, setting the phone on speaker.
“Morning, Bradley.”
“Hey, Mav.” Ice answered, watching the kids out of the corner of his eye.
“Ice? What’re you doin’ with B’s phone? Is he okay?!”
“He’s fine, Mav.” Ice soothed before the other pilot could get himself worked up. He heard a faint sigh of relief. “He and a few more of your kids crashed at my place last night.”
Mav snorted at that. “Was just callin’ to make sure they all made it home okay.”
“Well they didn’t exactly make it home,” Slider offered, “But they’re alright.”
There was a soft chuckle. “Ya shoulda told me you’d be crashin’ at Ice’s, Baby Goose. I would’ve come over, too.”
Ice rolled his eyes while Slider snickered. “That’s the last thing I need, Mav.”
“Aw, you wound me, Ice.” He could clearly picture Mav’s grin and put-upon look as he said it and rolled his eyes. “Wound me. Hey, who’s cookin’ breakfast?”
“The boys.” Anne responded as she wandered over, stealing Ron’s cup of coffee and ignoring her husband’s resulting grumbling. Ice smirked.
“Hey, Anne.”
“Morning, Pete. I take it these are your kids sprawled across Tom’s living room?”
“From what I hear.” Mav chuckled. “I’ll be there in an hour for breakfast, Ice. Anne, make sure the idiots don’t burn anything?”
“Right, ‘cause it was us who almost burned down that apartment in the summer of ‘92.” Slider snipped, grabbing a new mug from the cupboard.
“I plead the fifth.” Mav chirped brightly.
Sarah laughed, entering the kitchen as well. “We’ll make sure they create something edible.” Ice sent his wife a betrayed look and got a grin in reply. “See you in an hour, Pete.”
“Thanks Sarah, Anne. Love y’all lots, see you in a minute.”
The line cut off and Sarah sent them a smirk, nodding her thanks when Ice passed her a cup of coffee made just how she liked it.
“So, what’re you guys making?”
Slider rolled his eyes. “Ask Anne, she’s the one that enlisted us.”
Anne laughed, sauntering around the island to sit on one of the barstools on the other side. She sat at an angle to see into the living room, and asked, “You kids are the guests. What’re you hungry for?”
Bradley hummed in thought while the others stared at her, clearly astonished, brains still a step behind.
“You got the fixings for french toast? No one makes it like Ice, though don’t tell Dad I said that.”
“Nope.” Ice clipped, already moving towards the pantry. “He’s hearing about it for the rest of his life. I have witnesses.”
Slider barked a laugh, grabbing eggs, bacon, and sausages out of the fridge. Sarah sighed, shaking her head as she wandered into the living room, sipping at her coffee and sending her unexpected and uninvited guests a warm smile.
“You guys can move around, you know. We won’t confine you to your spots.”
“Not unless you get Ice mad!” Slider called from the kitchen, expertly dodging the swat Anne reached across the counter to give him.
“I think they’re good as far as that goes.” Sarah mused aloud, winking at them and watching her husband out of the corner of her eye. “He’s directed all his pettiness at Pete for the day.”
As expected, her husband grumbled a protest.
“Don’t even!” Slider immediately argued with a knowing cackle, before the two fell to bickering with Anne playing amused referee. Sarah chuckled, glancing back at them.
“I’m Sarah by the way, Tom’s wife. And that’s Anne,” Said blond sent the kids a small wave, green eyes sparkling. “Ron’s wife.”
Sarah settled on the arm of the couch nearest the only girl present, who sent her a small smile. “I’m Natasha Trace, Ma’am. Callsign Phoenix.”
“Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd.”
“Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin.”
“Javy ‘Coyote’ Machado, Ma’am.”
“Reuben ‘Payback’ Fitch.”
“Mickey ‘Fanboy’ Garcia, Mrs. Kazansky.”
Sarah’s gaze softened on them. “Just ‘Sarah’ is fine, hon. Morning, Bradley.”
“Mornin’, Aunt Sarah.” Rooster craned his neck a little to send Anne a sweet smile. “Good morning, Aunt Anne.”
Anne snorted, rolling her eyes and sharing a look with Sarah. They’d been around the flyboys far too long to buy into Bradley’s “good kid” act, but he could try.
“Good morning, Bradley.” Then she turned to Sarah, gesturing with her mug at their nephew. “You hear that it was his idea to break in?”
“We didn’t break in,” Rooster immediately scrambled, ignoring the laughter in the kitchen and the restrained chuckles from his teammates, “We used the key. I remembered where you guys hide it and even put it back!”
Sarah ignored him, sipping her coffee with a thoughtful hum. “I didn’t, though I’m not surprised. Though, normally Pete’s the only one who randomly shows up in our house. Of course, every time he comes over uninvited he cooks breakfast.” She finished with a pointed look at Rooster, cocking one eyebrow.
Bradley had the nerve to pout at her, dark eyes big and round. “I’m sorry, Sarah. I would’ve cooked breakfast! I just didn’t get up in time!”
Anne hummed at that. “I’m surprised you guys aren’t more hungover.”
That got some shrugs and non committed noises.
“We weren’t really planning on drinking a lot,” Phoenix offered, “Just relaxing a bit. We’re meeting up with the rest of our squadron a bit later–”
“Ron, so help me–”
“What’re you yelling at me for!”
“Can’t you two play nice?!” Anne interrupted before the two in question came to blows over eggs. The Daggers watched the argument with wide eyes. Except for Bradley, who was grinning.
“He started it!”
“It’s my house–!”
Sarah yawned, finishing her coffee and standing with a stretch. “Mav should be here in a little bit. There’s a couple bathrooms on this floor, one off that way just past the kitchen and another down this hall, first door on the left. Bradley can show you where they are. If you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go change.”
With that, Sarah wandered back down the hall after depositing her mug on the island, calling over her shoulder, “And don’t let the boys scare you from getting coffee!”
“Easy for her to say.” Hangman muttered under his breath, jumping when Anne laughed at his words.
“Oh, don’t worry about those two, they’re harmless really.”
“I mean, not to them,” Rooster pointed out with a smirk. His grin widened when the others sent him murderous glares. He’d never seen any point in telling them much about his family, but now that they knew who a couple of his uncles were you could bet he was going to milk it for everything he could get.
“Ignore him.” Anne told them plainly, “Neither of them would dare do anything to any of Mav’s kids, he’d go full Mama Bear on their hides.”
“Got that right.” Slider grumbled, moving around the island to lean next to his wife.
She turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you were helping cook?”
He shrugged, eyes sparkling. “Ice evicted me from the kitchen.”
Bradley grinned at that, rising from the floor with a stretch before ambling past Slider and over to Ice at the stove.
“Want some help, Uncle Ice?” He chirped, all bright eyes and innocent smiles.
“Little suck up.” Slider muttered at him. Bradley just beamed back.
Ice cracked a grin, ensuring that he made eye contact with Slider before answering, “Sure, Brads. Some help would be nice.”
“I’ve been cooking since before either of you were born!”
“You’re not that much older than me, Sli!”
“So? I was a very capable five year old!”
“So you’re telling me you’ve had all these years to practice and you still can’t use a stove?!”
“Cat fight still going on?” Sarah asked, twisting her hair into a loose ponytail as she reappeared, now in jeans and a tank top.
Anne grinned back. “Always. You know it never ends with these two.”
Slowly adjusting to being in a strangely domestic atmosphere with two admirals, one of whom was the full on Commander of the Pacific Fleet, the Daggers began leaving their spots and exploring a little. Anne and Sarah easily pulled the kids into conversation, and before they knew it the whole thing felt almost normal.
Almost, because despite the casual attire and petty, sarcastic barbs, the older men were still admirals who could ruin any of their lives on a whim. But before they knew it a semi-peaceful hour had passed.
Enter Pete Mitchell.
Mav started laughing as soon as he walked in the door, hanging his bomber in the closet absently while he took in the crowd who was, true to Anne’s words, sprawled across Ice’s living room.
“You know, I never took you lot as the types to break into the COMPACFLT’s house. Except for Rooster, of course.”
“For the last time, I didn’t break in–!”
“They’ve spent too much time with you, Mav.” Slider offered over Rooster’s indignant protest, easily accepting the side-hug Mav gave him as the younger man moved further into the house.
Mav chuckled. “I beg to differ, I have never broken in. I’ve been told I have a standing invitation.”
Ice huffed at him crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter after finally making enough food to satisfy the morning’s crowd. “Pretty sure that only applies when you announce yourself, Mav. Most of the time you’re just suddenly here.”
“Ignore him,” Sarah instructed lightly, pressing a kiss to Mav’s cheek on his way to the coffee pot–on its third round, now. “You know you’re always welcome.”
“Wait, wait, wait. You said I was always welcome, and yet when I show up it’s breaking and entering. But Dad does it, and it’s just…what? Stopping by?” Rooster sputtered from his spot on the couch next to Phoenix, who smirked.
“Yeah? Where you been, Baby Goose?” Mav chirped, sipping at his coffee as he moved to join his kids in the living room, now with a full plate. “I have never broken into anywhere.”
“Hangar in Lemoore.”
“Hangar in Whidbey.”
“37 different meeting rooms in Top Gun alone.”
“My house, over 20 times.”
“My house over 50 times.”
“That–
“Alright!” Maverick called amidst the laughter that had started up. He tried glowering at the Daggers, but the sparkle in his eyes ruined it. “Aren’t you two old and senile? You’re not supposed to be able to remember anything!”
“I’ll show you old and senile if you don’t watch your mouth, Mav.” Slider clipped, pointing a fork threateningly at him.
Maverick grinned, sticking out his tongue in retaliation before snatching up his coffee cup to shield himself with. Slider grumbled, sending a faux-glare Anne’s way where she was leaning against his shoulder, laughing.
Ice huffed, watching the entertainment with an amused twinkle in his eyes.
Sarah leaned over where she sat next to him, whispering softly, “We should have them over more often.”
Ice cocked an eyebrow, glaring at Fanboy when the kid threatened to start a food fight in his previously-clean living room. Thankfully, the younger man thought better of it, sending him a sheepish smile in apology. “Which ones?”
“All of them.”