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theforgottenmcrmy · 2 years ago

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Birds of a Feather (Chapter 3/?) ||| Bradley Bradshaw

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Sam “Merlin” Wells’ Daughter OC

Warnings: Explicit Language, Mentions of Death of Parent(s), Non-Explicit Sexual References, and even more awkwardness as young adults try and fail to rationalize their feelings.

Summary: … If she was going to do this crazy of a thing with anybody, Bradley Bradshaw was certainly at the top of her list. Hell, he was the only one on the list. She trusted him full-heartedly.

Word Count: 9200 ish.

DISCLAIMER: Spoilers for Top Gun and Top Gun: Maverick ahead.

Masterlist /// Chapter 1 /// Chapter 2 /// Chapter 3 /// Chapter 4

A/N: Thank you all so much for the support you’ve shown for this story! It really makes me feel good (for a lack of better words) that something I’ve put a fair amount of work into has been received so well. As usual, any and all feedback is still welcomed and appreciated! This and the next chapters are going to be decently lengthy, but I felt like splitting them into three chapters would have jarred the pacing. Hopefully you all understand.

I hope you all have a good holiday, if you celebrate. (Personally, I’m going to be wearing black tomorrow, but that’s neither here nor there.👀) Either way, I hope you have a good and safe next couple of days.😊💙

Chapter 3: Out of the System

Lemoore, CA

5 years ago

…

Corpus Christi, and then Kingsville, to Lemoore would be a nice change of pace. Even if it was exchanging one hot environment for another. Either way, both had to be better than the humidity had been in Pensacola.

But, and perhaps more importantly, the move would create more socially acceptable opportunities to don the ever growing collection of Hawaiian shirts in Bradley’s possession.

Which is why, on the Saturday before his FRS training was set to commence, just after Bradley had up and left his temporary life in Texas for sunny California, he donned one of the said shirts. And, he’d chosen one of his particularly more “obnoxious” - as his fellow aviator and friend Natasha Trace had so lovingly put it- shirts for the hell of it.

Natasha made a deal of not wanting to be seen with him when he wore the shirt, but Bradley could tell she didn’t really hold any hard feelings for the brightly colored fabric. However, she did still roll her eyes at him exasperatedly as they entered the bar.

They’d been informed that the bar was the bar of preference for most everyone on base. In theory, it would be a good place to introduce themselves to others in a more casual setting before training formally began the following Monday. But as it turned out, the bar was a pretty nice place anyway. It was somewhat tucked away, hidden in plain sight among the small suburb of military housing nearby. Plus, the owner, a veteran named Jimmy, was more than a pleasant enough guy.

After a few beers, Natasha and Bradley had made some small talk with others they recognized from earlier stages of their training. Natasha had even ran into an old friend from her days in the Academy, Reuben Fitch.

As Natasha and Reuben caught up, Bradley nursed another beer and he leaned up against the bar. His eyes scanned around the room, looking for no one in particular, but rather getting a general feel of the room. He spotted a piano on the other side of the bar, and made a mental note of it for future reference.

Then, Bradley heard a laugh that made him double take. His eyes continued to scan the bar, though with a bit more urgency, as his curiosity got the best of him and he sought to confirm his initial reactive thought.

There she was. She was seated at a table across the bar, chatting with two guys and another woman who were also seated at the same table.

Clara Wells.

Throughout the most recent stages of their training, Bradley and Clara had kept in touch mainly by text, but also with the occasional phone call. Bradley had spoken to Clara enough to already know she’d be in California. After she had completed her training six months back, she’d been given orders to report to NAS Lemoore, where she'd been lucky enough to be assigned to be an NFO on her first preference- the F/A 18.

But Bradley and Clara hadn’t actually seen each other in person in nearly two years, and he definitely hadn’t expected to see her there at the bar that night. He would have thought- or, rather, hoped- that he would have had at least one or two days to come up with the just right words to say to her.

Though phone calls and texts over the months had been enough to preserve their friendship on the surface level, the thought of speaking to one another face to face had become somewhat of a daunting task. There’d been an unspoken mutual agreement to simply not address what had happened the night before Bradley left Pensacola.

Bradley knew he ought to have brought it up, but everytime he tried to work up the courage to do so, the fears of what could happen as a result of the conversation always outweighed his desire for clarity on where exactly they stood. Would things get weird between them? Would they get into an argument? Would they simply bring up the topic once, and drop it, never to be spoken of again? Bradley couldn’t be sure. Their lighthearted conversations already seemed fragile due to the distance between them straining the relationship. And Bradley wasn’t exactly leaping at the chance to add any further burden to what was supposed to have been a mutually beneficial friendship.

Not to mention, it had been too easy to simply pretend the kiss had not even happened at all when there had been a barrier of a phone between them for safety. But now, that barrier was gone.

And to make things worse, their chats had been spotty as of late, with Bradley having been primarily focused on completing his initial training and finally earning his Wings. He’d at least told Clara that he’d been given his first preference of what to fly- which was also the F/A 18. But he hadn’t told her whether was headed to Lemoore or Virginia Beach after the completion of his training. … Then again, Clara hadn’t explicitly asked, either.

Regardless, it all meant that Bradley had absolutely no idea what to say to Clara. It was an off-putting feeling, unsure of what to say to a friend of literal years, when he was - supposedly - full grown ass-adult who should have been more than capable of having a difficult conversation. But it was the awkward position he found himself in anyway. And until he could figure out what needed to be said, Bradley was of the mind that perhaps laying low and sticking to his own business would be his best course of action.

Besides… Clara looked more than comfortable chatting with her friends across the bar. The last thing Bradley wanted to do was to interrupt them and force an awkward conversation that he wasn’t even prepared for.

Even though he still cared about her.

God, did he still care about her.

He cared about her too much, really. More than he ought to have.

Unbeknownst to him, while he was in the midst of wrestling with his thoughts, Clara had already spotted him with Natasha and Reuben.

“Hey Jimmy, the damn jukebox’s broken again!”

In response, the bartender grumbled something about leaving the machine be.

“Bradshaw, is that a piano I see over there?” Natasha asked pointedly.

Bradley took another drink in lieu of answering her redundant question.

“Why don’t ya play us a little something?” Reuben asked, immediately catching on to Natasha’s subtle suggestion.

“Nah, I couldn’t,” Bradley replied, hoping Natasha would take the hint and just drop it. Making a scene in the bar by providing such entertainment, though it wouldn’t have been the first time, was one of the last things on Bradley’s mind at the moment given who was present on the opposite side of the room.

Unfortunately, Natasha mistook his hesitancy for shyness. “Don’t let him fool you,” she said to Reuben with a smile. “This guy right here knows his way around the keys.” She clapped a hand on Bradley’s shoulder encouragingly “Come on.”

Reluctantly, though as to not make any further of a scene, Bradley allowed her to guide him over to the piano. As soon as he was seated on the bench, a fair share of the eyes of the other bar patrons fell upon him, watching with mild interest. He refused to look at any of them in particular, apprehensive as to whose eyes he might actually meet.

Instead, he chose to focus on Natasha, who was beside him, smiling reassuringly. “Too late to chicken out now, Bradshaw. You’ve got an audience.”

Oh, didn’t he know it. He gave Natasha a small smile as he forced himself to play the opening chords to a song he knew how to play so well it was nearly the equivalent of riding a bike. As the first few notes sounded, and against his better judgment, Bradley dared to look over the top of the upright piano and out across the room.

Immediately, he locked eyes with Clara. She was too far away for him to properly discern the expression on her face, but he had no doubt that she saw him.

There’d be no flying under the radar now.

The first day of training had gone by somewhat unceremoniously. The replacement pilots and replacement WSOs were given the introductory speeches from the instructors and their CO. The more hands-on learning and training was set to begin the next day.

Most of the incomers seemed alright, Clara deduced, from her non-expert but several months’ experience of an opinion. There seemed to be a small number of them who would need to be taken down a peg, as one may have suspected, but that number was relatively small. To be fair, there were also some others who had joined the VFA-122 at the same time as her that could still stand to be humbled, even with six months of exposure under their belts.

Clara made it the entire day without having to speak to Bradley Bradshaw even once. And for that, she was thankful.

But that all changed as she entered the parking lot in her effort to go home.

“Clara!”

Clara didn’t want to hesitate, but she involuntarily did so as a gut-reaction upon the use of her name. Once she processed whose voice it was, she forced herself to continue on. Her car was just a few rows away, and with any luck, she’d reach it shortly before the person on her tail had a chance to catch up.

But it appeared luck wasn’t on her side that day, because a moment later, Bradley suddenly appeared by her side.

“Clara, come on,” he pleaded, audibly disheartened though he had no physical problem keeping up with her long strides and rushed pace. Though Clara was taken unpleasantly by surprise, at least Bradley spoke relatively quietly; the entire group had just been dismissed for the day, and they certainly weren’t alone in the parking lot.

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” Clara said casually, sparing him the briefest of glances out of the corner of her eye. In all fairness, she hadn’t asked where Bradley had been assigned to after his training, but part of her had hoped he would’ve shared the information with her anyway.

“I know, I should’ve told you,” Bradley admitted, sounding so apologetic and sincere Clara almost stopped walking then and there. Almost. “I think we need to talk.”

“What about?” Clara asked, feigning ignorance all too easy in her frustration.

“You know what about.”

Clara finally stopped in her tracks, and opened her mouth to retort, but shut it when was made ever more aware of the fact that others were in the area and could possibly overhear their conversation. She had no intention of making whatever they were about to discuss public; they were both professionals with budding careers. The last thing either of them needed was to be seen having a public spat, especially when as far as anyone else knew, they two had just met each other.

“I can count the number of times I’ve heard from you over the past month on one hand,” Clara said, fighting to keep her voice level and even. “Do you suddenly have something to say?”

Regret and remorse was very evident on Bradley’s face. He did his best to hide his pained expression, but Clara was able to see through the front easily. “Yeah, I do,” he informed her. “Please, Clara. Give me a chance to explain?”

“... Okay.” Clara offered up a tight-lipped smile to someone who passed by them and shot them a curious look. “But can we talk somewhere more private?”

Bradley gave her a relieved smile and tapped the hood of his Bronco, which Clara hadn’t even realized was parked where they had come to a stop. “My apartment?”

“Fine.”

…

Bradley’s apartment was not too far from base. It was nothing too expansive, not that it was needed for just himself, but it was still nice. He was fortunate to live alone, which soothed Clara’s nerves about their impending conversation just a little.

When they first entered the room, he offered her a drink. She declined, but accepted a glass of water instead.

For a few minutes, the two sat on the couch in his living room in silence, each drinking their respective drinks and waiting to see who would cave and begin speaking first. Though the silence normally would have tormented her, she didn’t mind it this time. It allowed her to contemplate.

Perhaps she had maybe been a little too aggressive with Bradley in the parking lot, especially since it was the first time she was having a face-to-face conversation with him in almost two years. But she still needed answers for his odd behavior, even if she feared she wouldn’t like what he had to say.

“Look,” Clara began, looking away from him in the hope that doing so would give her some additional courage. She set down the glass of water on the nearby side table as she continued to search for the right words. “I’m just going to rip the bandaid off- I know I crossed a line when I kissed you that night. I don’t know what got into me… other than the alcohol, I guess. But there’s something I don’t understand about that night. If I crossed the line, why on earth did you kiss me back?”

Bradley remained silent for a beat, though Clara was well-aware of the fact that his eyes were on her, watching her intensely. When she finally dared to meet his eyes once again, she saw him purse his lips. His brows were furrowed, his eyes focused. He was obviously deep in thought. Or deliberation.

“It just… It felt right, I guess.”

… Felt right?

“What am I supposed to do with that information, Brad?” Clara asked quietly, feeling oddly helpless and more confused than she had ever been over the past month when he subtly but abruptly shut her out.

“I don’t know.”

Clara wanted to be able to make sense of whatever he was trying to convey, but it almost sounded like Bradley wasn’t even sure what he meant. It was a lost cause. “I completely understand if pursuing this- pursuing us- isn’t what you want right now… To be honest, I’m not even sure what I want anymore. All I do know is that I’ve missed you. A lot. And if I had known that kissing you was just going to make things weird between us and wreck what we had, I never would’ve done it in the first place.”

“I missed you too,” Bradley confessed. His tone was softer than before, it sounded a bit more wounded. Almost as though he’d been insulted that she’d even insinuated that he didn’t feel the same. “And I don’t think what we have is wrecked.”

“Then why haven’t I heard from you recently? … I know you’ve been busy. Believe me, I know. I’ve gone through training; I’ve been there. … But I would’ve at least thought you’d tell me you were coming here.”

Bradley sighed tiredly. “Do you want me to be honest with you?”

“Please.”

“Fine,” Bradley said, setting his drink down on the side table. “... I was afraid of having this exact conversation.”

Clara’s eyes widened in surprise; that wasn’t what she had been expecting.

“Once I found out I was coming here, I realized it would only be a matter of time until we had this conversation,” Bradley continued, looking away from her for the first time since their conversation began. “Since we didn’t really talk about what happened that night, I didn’t know how you felt about things between us… and I guess I was just worried we weren’t on the same page.”

In all honesty, Clara still wasn’t entirely sure what page Bradley was on. But, by the sound of it, she felt confident enough that she at least had the gist. It seemed that both of them wanted to keep the friendship, and neither were ready to pursue the avenue that the kiss had opened up for them. That damn kiss. If she hadn’t caved into her feelings in the moment, they wouldn’t have even had to have this conversation!

… Wait.

“How about we just forget anything ever happened?” she proposed. “We don’t think about it, or even bring it up again. We can go back to the way things were before that night.”

Bradley met her eyes once again. The somber look in his eyes was gone, replaced with interest, and, if she squinted, maybe even a dash of humor. “Just… forget it even happened?”

“Yes.”

“You really think it’ll work?”

“We’ll have to hold each other accountable to see to it that it does. But right now, it’s the only thing I can think of. I’m not ready to throw this friendship away.”

“Neither am I.”

“Then… it’s a deal?”

“... Deal.”

“Deal,” Clara agreed, nodding to herself as she began to process what all that would entail. “And if it doesn’t work, I guess we’ll have to find some other way to make the next six months bearable.”

In six months, Clara would receive her squadron assignment, and be headed off for who knew where, while it would be Bradley’s turn to be the one ‘left behind’ to finish the duration of his own training.

“Let’s start now,” Bradley proposed. “Friday night- let’s go back to that bar, just like we used to in Florida. I’ll even buy.”

“You don’t have to do that-”

“-But I want to. Consider it a consolation for dropping off the face of the earth for the past month. Are you in, or not?”

As much as she wanted to demonstrate some reluctance to his offer, Clara knew she was a sucker for the hopeful look on Bradley’s face. Damn him. “... Fine. I’m in.” Then, the memory struck her. “That was quite the performance you gave the other night, by the way.”

Bradley smirked. “I just knew you were gonna say something about that.”

“How could I not? You basically gave the whole bar a free concert! Who knew that one song could have so much sway?”

“It is a good song,” Bradley reasoned thoughtfully. “Though, it was kinda lonely up there, all by lonesome. I’m used to at least having a singing partner, you know?”

Clara knew exactly what he was referring to. She’d witnessed Bradley give similar performances at their old haunts in Pensacola. She’d been right beside him then, and had even sung along a handful of times. But perhaps it was too soon to stroke Bradley’s ego and indulge him.

“You seemed just fine,” Clara noted, though politely. “Who was that you were with?”

“Her name’s Natasha,” Bradley replied. “She came from Kingsville with me. I’ll introduce you two sometime. I think you two will get along.”

“... Is she-”

“Just a friend,” Bradley confirmed. Clara wanted to kick herself when he seemed to take too much satisfaction in her poorly-disguised interest in the matter.

“I was just asking,” Clara added quickly, hoping to throw him off her tracks.

“Mhmm.”

“Well, I should get going now,” Clara said as she rose up off the couch, desperately wanting to avoid digging herself into any deeper of a hole. Besides, the events of the day had made her brain feel all but fried, and she could practically hear her bed calling her name from miles away.

Bradley rose from the couch as well, following her as she walked over to the front door. “I’ll see you around, Red Cross.”

Clara almost did a double take at the nickname she hadn’t heard in a few years. Despite herself, she smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Brad.” She swore she saw the corners of his mouth twitch upwards at that… but maybe she had just imagined it. “Are you going to wear another one of those shirts on Friday?”

This time, Bradley gave her a clear smile. “Oh, you can count on it, Darling.”

“I still have the one you left behind, by the way.”

“Ah, so you didn’t burn it?”

“Ha ha,” Clara said sarcastically. “Do you want it back? I can run it over here later tonight if you want.”

Bradley shrugged nonchalantly, unbothered. “Keep it for now. You never know when I may be in need of a shirt.”

Clara laughed.

It wasn’t until she got back to her own apartment that she realized the possible deeper implications of Bradley’s off-handed joke.

“Ugh.”

“He is pretty insufferable, isn’t he?”

Bradley had offered to drive Clara back to his apartment after training the following Friday. Since they had plans to go out later that evening, it had only made sense and prevented any unnecessary driving back and forth.

On the way back to his apartment, their conversation had naturally drifted to one Jake Seresin- an incoming replacement pilot whose obnoxious ego and charm rivaled each other for dominance over his personality. He’d come from Meridian, so both of them had only known him for less than a week. However, they were both of the opinion that that short time was plenty enough for them to deduce just what he was about.

“I’m sure he’ll get knocked down a peg or two,” Clara said. “I’ve seen it first hand- it ain’t pretty.”

Bradley shrugged, his eyes still focused on the road. Though he liked the idea of that, and probably more than he should have, he had his doubts about whether anything would ever actually boot Jake Seresin off his high horse. “I don’t know- some of those Academy guys never seem to grow out of their egos.”

“Yeah?” Clara chucked. “Well, you were almost one of them yourself, remember? Are you admitting that you’d have a free pass to act like a jerk too?”

Bradley knew Clara only meant it as a joke, but he couldn’t bring himself to laugh or otherwise react to her question.

Unfortunately, Clara took his silence and jumped to a conclusion of her own. “... You’re not still mad about not getting into the Academy, are you?”

“No.”

“-Because I’ve already told you, I couldn’t even get a nomination. You, on the other hand, got the chance to actually apply. You had more of a chance than I ever did.”

“I’m not still mad about not getting into the Academy,” Bradley insisted truthfully. “That was years ago, for God’s sake.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

Bradley sighed, and readjusted his grip on the steering wheel. He should’ve kept his mouth shut, or at least minded his mouth when talking about Seresin and all the other Academy grads who thought they were still way up high on their pedestals. But he hadn’t, and in the spirit of keeping their rekindled friendship alive, he felt obligated to let Clara in fully on something he’d been keeping a secret for over a year.

“I’m not mad about not getting into the Academy,” he repeated. “... I may still be a bit upset with the reason as to why I didn’t get in.”

“How would you even know that?” Clara wondered. She laughed, “What did you do, go up to the Admissions Board and ask them why?”

Bradley chuckled dryly. “No… One of my instructors back in Kingsville was actually on the Board during the year I applied,” he informed her. “I just wanted some closure, you know? I thought if I knew what it was that held me back then, I could be more aware of it now, in case it ever plays a role down the road… So, after I got in his good graces, of course, I just asked him about it directly.”

“... And did he tell you?”

“Not at first; he didn’t want to,” Bradley recalled. “Hell, he definitely probably shouldn’t have told me at all. But I took him out for drinks one night, and you know what they say about loose lips. He told me all I needed to know.”

Bradley could feel Clara’s eyes on him. He knew why; talking about a fair share of stuff in his past was either hit or miss on whether it’d garner a strong emotional reaction from him. She was probably preparing herself for the worst.

“What did he say?” she inquired.

Bradley spared her a glance, confirming what he already knew; Clara was watching him carefully. “He told me my papers got pulled.”

“What?” Clara did a double take. “... That can actually happen?”

“Yes.”

“Well, you obviously didn’t have anything to do with it… So who pulled them?”

Bradley hesitated.

“Did he not tell you who it was?”

“No, he did.”

“Who was it?”

“Maverick.”

The silence that followed was an extremely weighted one. Bradley remained silent, not sure of what else to say in the moment, and wanting to allow Clara time to digest the bombshell information he’d just shared.

“Maverick?” Clara repeated, slowly and blankly. “Maverick Maverick? As in-”

“-Yes.”

Bradley saw Clara finally look away from him out of the corner of his eye. Instead, she stared straight out the front windshield, mimicking his own firm stance. “But that doesn’t make any sense,” she mumbled. “... Why would he do that?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. But my instructor was very clear as to who was behind my application getting pulled.”

“I can’t believe it,” Clara admitted wistfully. Quickly, she clarified, “I mean, I believe what you’re saying, I do… But Maverick? God, my dad still talks about that guy like he hung the damn moon!”

Bradley scoffed. “I know. Your dad tried asking me about him once, but if I remember right, you saved me from having to answer him.”

When Mr. Wells had asked about him several years back, Bradley hadn’t known the truth of what Maverick had done with his application to the Academy. But at the time, Bradley still hadn’t been too pleased with his later father’s best friend. He’d been way, way too eager to brush over Bradley’s supposed “rejection” from the Academy. ‘Well, that’s some tough luck, Kid… But you know how competitive it is to get into the Academy. Hell, I didn’t even get the chance to apply… And you know how worried your mother was about you. Maybe she can rest easier now.’

Just recalling the lame excuses that, in hindsight, Bradley should have taken as obvious clues got his blood boiling. But Maverick was not there anymore, and as much contempt as he held for him, Bradley would be damned if he’d let the old man impact his life and attitude anymore than he already had.

“The image I had of Maverick was already tainted by then,” Bradley confessed, referring back to the day in question. “... But I still couldn’t bring myself to ruin him in the eyes of your father, too.”

Clara said nothing, but he could tell she was still highly focused on the conversation.

“That’s why Seresin and the other Academy guys like him get to me so much. They walk around like their God’s personal gifts to the Navy, and hell, maybe they are. But they don’t acknowledge the advantage that they had. Four years of connections like that? … I would’ve done just about anything for that opportunity.”

“I’m really, really sorry, Bradley,” Clara apologized, sincerely dripping off of every solemn word. “What Maverick did- that wasn’t right. It shouldn’t have happened, and you more than deserved a fair chance. Does he know that you know? Have you confronted him about it?”

Bradley shook his head, his fingers gripping the steering wheel just a bit tighter as he slowed the car down for an upcoming red light. “No. I haven’t even talked to him in years.” Which was perfectly fine with him. “When I didn’t get into the academy, he tried to convince me that it was a blessing in disguise. I didn’t get why he was so adamant about it at the time, but now I know. And I try not to think about it, but, as you can tell, it still bothers me years later, so…”

Clara was silent once again.

“But I suppose there is a silver lining in all of it,” Bradley realized out loud for the first time.

“What’s that?”

The car came to a complete stop at the red light, and Bradley looked over at her with a small smile. “If things hadn’t gone the way they had for me, I wouldn’t have met you when I did.”

He turned his eyes back onto the road, but he swore he saw her smile out of the corner of his eye.

“Aw, Bradshaw, you’re going to make me tear up,” Clara said quietly after a moment, attempting to downplay the sentimentality of his statement. “Are you saying you don’t regret willfully letting me annoy you for going on seven years?”

“Surprisingly- no. I’m glad I met you when I did,” Bradley agreed with a smile. His focus was back on the road, where it would remain as he forced himself to finish the rest of his thoughts. “That’s when I needed someone like you the most.”

The smile she gave him in return made him feel some type of way. And it made him realize very quickly that keeping up his end of the deal and forgetting the kiss they’d shared was going to be a lot harder than he had anticipated.

Lemoore, CA

4.5 years ago

…

Due to it being a Saturday night, the bar was relatively crowded, as was the usual. In hindsight, they probably should have ventured to a place further away from base, but since Bradley had offered to pay, Clara had been in no position to argue.

“We playing the ‘game’ tonight?” Bradley asked her as he handed her a drink. He took a seat at the table they’d secured in one of the back corners of the bar. It was tucked away, and just about as private of a place they’d get in such a bustling environment.

The ‘game’ was a method they’d cooked up a few months prior, shortly after Bradley’s arrival on base. As it turned out, Bradley and Clara pretending to be involved with one another while out at bars had proven to be a relatively effective way to deter any flirtatious hopefuls when one of them wasn’t quite in the mood to be swooned. It confused the hell out of their peer aviators and WSOs who recognized them and saw their little bit, and it confused them even more so when the pair would repeatedly and vehemently deny anything had occurred between them when confronted about it afterwards. But that was a large part of the fun.

But, as it also turned out, Clara enjoyed partaking in the charade a little bit more than liked to admit. And she particularly didn’t care for the uncomfortable feeling she got whenever Bradley assured her that their arrangement was not necessary for an evening, and he would buy some other girl a drink and chat her up for an hour or so. If they had gone out together, he never ditched her for any of them, but there was no telling what he got up to when the two parted ways when leaving the bar.

Clara hated it all, actually. She hated how possessive it made her feel. Bradley could date, or not date, anyone he damn well pleased. She was his friend, nothing more. That was their agreement, and she knew that if she wanted to keep him a part of her life, she better stick to it.

Even if that meant ignoring how she actually had come to feel about him.

“I’m down,” Clara confirmed. “Unless you don’t want to...?”

Bradley put a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “Now, what kind of friend would I be if I ran off with some other girl on your last night here?”

Ah, there it was. Not even ten minutes into their little trip to the bar, and the elephant in the room had been addressed. Six months had passed by too quickly, and Clara would be leaving in the morning.

She’d been officially assigned to VFA-103. While finally getting assigned to a squadron was exciting, she couldn’t deny the fact that the past six months spent with her old friend had made the prospect of leaving less than favorable. With any luck, Bradley would get assigned to a squadron also stationed in Virginia Beach- or even better, a squadron assigned to the same carrier- so that they would at least see each other in some passing state, but that was pretty wishful thinking.

“Well, maybe it would make you a shitty friend,” Clara said, “But hardly anyone could blame you. See that blonde over by the bar? She’s been eyeing you since the moment we walked in.”

She directed her gaze over to the girl in reference pointedly. Bradley followed the gesture, and smirked as his eyes landed upon her.

“Nice,” he commented smugly.

Clara rolled her eyes and took a big drink from her glass.

“Damn…” Bradley whistled suddenly. “Do you feel those daggers she’s shooting at you?”

“What? No she’s not-”

Bradley put a hand on her arm as she went to turn, effectively stopping from looking back to see if he had been telling the truth. “Don’t look! She’ll know we were talking about her.”

“You were talking about her.”

Bradley paid her no mind as he rose, beer still in hand, and scooted his stool closer to hers. He sat back down, his back now to the woman at the bar, and gave her a grin.

“Well… What’s she going to think now?” Clara asked, unsure of what else to say as she processed their suddenly close proximity.

Bradley shrugged. “She’s probably thinking that we’re having an intimate conversation. So, unless you want to blow our cover, you better commit and pretend that you actually like me.”

Clara did her best to glare at him, but she didn’t have to see her own reflection to know that she wasn’t doing a very convincing job. For all her effort to do her best to forget about her feelings about him, Bradley’s mixed signals- whether he knew what he was doing or not- certainly didn’t help the matter.

“Bradshaw, do you really think I would have tolerated these little antics of yours for this many years if I didn’t like you?”

Judging by the content look on his face, that was exactly along the lines of what Bradley had been fishing for. “So, just how much do you like me?”

Clara laughed and took another drink in an effort to mask her involuntary blush. “Where the hell are you going with this?”

“Do you like me enough to do me a favor?” he asked plainly.

Bradley’s tone was serious, a stark comparison to the joking banter he’d fired off just a few seconds beforehand. Given their closeness, Clara had a pretty good view of his face. Though she had been avoiding meeting his eyes for too long throughout the night so far, she dared to after hearing his question, searching for any signs that he might have been anything less than genuine. She found none. His brown eyes, while still having a bit of light to them, looked suddenly somber.

“Yes.”

“Promise me you’ll take care of yourself?”

He sounded so sincere, she didn’t have the heart to do anything other than take his request as seriously as he posed it. Despite the vagueness, she knew exactly what he meant.

The whole process of training up until that moment hadn’t exactly been a cake walk; it certainly had had its dangerous moments. But being assigned to an actual squadron, where being deployed was inevitable, was another thing entirely. They both knew the risks of the careers they had chosen, and they accepted that it possibly would come at a heavy personal cost.

But that personal cost didn’t always mean sacrificing one’s own life; it also meant the possibility of losing someone else instead. And Clara knew Bradley understood the weight of that concept greatly.

“Of course I will,” Clara assured him, placing a light hand over his own as it laid flat upon the table. “I always do, you know that.”

“I know you do. But it’s not always in your control.”

It wasn’t, but that was something she had come to accept. Unsure of what else to say, she withdrew her hand slowly, and took another drink.

“Can I ask you something serious?” Bradley asked after a few moments.

“Serious?” Clara asked with a soft smile. “That’s a new one for you, isn’t it?”

“I know- but I mean it this time,” Bradley said, before finishing off the rest of his beer.

“What is it?”

Bradley scooted the empty bottle away from him as he leaned onto the table. He looked over at her, attentive eyes watching her every move. The way he was acting was more hesitant than what was usual for him, and it made her all the more intrigued.

“Why did you go through all of this training to not even try to be a pilot?”

Clara pushed her own now empty glass away from her on the table as she met his eyes once again. The look in his eyes was just as serious as it had been a few minutes before. It was definitely not the direction she had expected the evening to go, nor the question she would have guessed he would have asked of her. But she was more than willing to see where it would lead.

“It’s kind of late in the process to be asking me that question, isn’t it?”

Bradley shrugged. Though his reaction was nonchalant, Clara could tell he still expected an answer.

“You mean, besides my eyesight?” she joked in an attempt to lighten the mood between them. It wasn’t successful, the tension created by his question clung steadfast in the air between them. So, she racked her brain for the most honest, thoughtful, and easiest-to-convey answer she could produce. “... I guess I like being able to control what I can control. If I’m a WSO, I’ve got my role. I know what I’m supposed to do, and I can focus on making sure I do it the best I can. But if I had to actually fly the plane as well? … Seems like a lot.”

“You could’ve done it.”

“Maybe; maybe not. But, at the end of the day, I just never felt that drawn to it. And, I don’t know about you, but I’d rather have a pilot whose always known they’ve wanted to do what they do than a pilot who does what they do because they felt like they had to. Whoever I end up flying with can have whatever glory they want. I know I’m going to do the best job I can, and I know they’ll be able to handle the rest.”

Bradley visibly mused over her words thoughtfully for a few moments. “That’s a lot of trust to place in someone.”

His words made something click in Clara’s mind. Backseaters, specifically WSOs, or, back in the day, RIOs, had to place a lot of trust in the pilots they flew with.

Clara hadn’t ever really given too much thought as to why Bradley hadn’t opted to be an NFO in some capacity rather than a pilot. If he had chosen the other route, it certainly would have been a lot more comparable to his father’s career. But then, it hit her- it was about the control. Just like control had been the motivator for her own career path, it seemed highly likely that the concept of control was what had sparked Bradley’s decision as well. Though the recent grumblings throughout the squadron was that he was likely to transition to a single seater soon, Clara had little doubt that if Bradley would be assigned to fly with a WSO, their safety would be one of his top priorities.

It was hardly a surprise that Bradley was concerned about her, beyond what she would have expected of him by being his friend. He knew very well of a circumstance where a RIO’s trust in their pilot simply hadn’t been enough.

“It is a lot of trust,” Clara said, finally acknowledging his point. “But that’s the easiest way for me to rationalize it.” Another beat of silence passed between them, before she thought of something to lighten the mood. “Besides, someone’s gotta be the voice of reason for the thick-skulled pilots like you.”

Despite the intensity of the conversation, Bradley smirked at her joke.

“And you’re thinking of a worst case scenario,” Clara continued. “I could end up with someone perfectly safe and competent- someone like you. Or Natasha, even.”

Natasha Trace, a friend of Bradley’s from Kingsville, had also become a friend of Clara’s over the past six months. She admired the other young woman’s ability to hold her own. She’d witnessed more than one time where Natasha had put Jake Seresin in his place, and with each time, Clara gained more respect for her. Though Natasha took her job very seriously, she had no problem kicking back a bit outside of work, and was often a third party to their weekend happenings. In general, she was nice to be around, and in all honesty, Clara felt better about leaving knowing that Natasha and Bradley had each other’s backs.

“Maybe,” Bradley conceded, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced. “Or you could end up with someone like Seresin.”

“God, I hope not... But why are you asking all of this?” Clara wondered then.

For the first time in a few minutes, cracks showed in Bradley’s serious front, and he gave her a soft smile. “Oh, you know- I just felt like we were long overdue for a deep discussion.”

“Oh, really? Got anything else on your mind while you’re at it?” Clara half-joked.

“... I guess not.”

Though it wasn’t exactly a solid answer, if he wasn’t going to say anything further, it was not the night to push him. As open as they had been with each other since the start of their friendship, and as much as Clara didn’t mind, but actually rather enjoyed, the deep talks they had, if given the choice, Clara would opt for her memories of him from that night to be more light, happy. The nerves she was beginning to feel from the anticipation of leaving for Virginia Beach the following morning were beginning to feel like a heavy weight, but she hoped the memories of the night to come would help give her some peace.

And Bradley was quite the sight worth remembering that evening. Wind swept sandy brown hair that was a result of the ride in his Bronco. Dark brown eyes that could hold more emotional depth within them than most people ever got to see. The dazzling smile that almost always reached those eyes.

Even the Hawaiian shirt he donned was no deterrent from the hell of a sight he was.

Clara patted his hand lightly and rose from her seat, wanting to halt her rolling thoughts before they got out of control. “I’m gonna go get us another round.”

Bradley’s eyes traveled across the table to where their hands met. Clara noticed this immediately, and began to withdraw her hand slowly, before he stopped her by lightly wrapping his own around hers.

“Wait,” he said, looking at her seriously once again. “... There actually is something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

Clara nodded wordlessly, ignoring the buzzing sensation she got from the feeling of his calloused fingers running across her palm. She sat back down on the stool, but Bradley didn’t let go of her hand. Clara looked at him expectantly, trying her best to be patient as she waited for him to tell her what was so important.

“... I can’t hold up my end of the deal anymore, Clara.”

Her brows furrowed in confusion. “What deal?”

“The deal where we agreed to forget that anything happened between us.”

Her initial reaction was shock; she wasn’t sure she had heard him correctly.

Her second reaction was gratification; so he had known what he’d been doing over the last six months when he had been giving her mixed signals! It was nice to know that she wasn’t the only one who had been having a hard time letting go of the past, try as she might.

But her final reaction, and the one that hit her the strongest, was one of sadness.

They couldn’t have this conversation, not here, not now. She was about to leave to go across the country in the morning, and he still had six months left of training in California. They had had years to come to this sort of revelation about the nature of their relationship, and for one reason or another, neither had been able to do so. Though Clara felt some relief in the fact that she hadn’t been alone in her pining for him, the timing of it made it all the more difficult to accept.

“I see your mind running a million miles an hour, Red Cross.”

Clara knew Bradley hadn’t meant any harm by his attempt at a joke, but she couldn’t help but be slightly irritated by it anyway. “What do you expect me to say to that, Brad?”

“Have you held up your end of the deal?”

Clara frowned. “We were talking about you.”

“And now, I’m asking about you. Can you look me in the eyes and honestly tell me that you haven’t thought about the kiss at all since we made that agreement six months ago?”

She couldn’t. She knew he could tell, too. “We can’t talk about this right now. I’m leaving tomorrow, remember?”

“Then there’s no better time,” Bradley offered, as if the answer was simple.

Clara huffed at his casualness. “Okay, so we’ve both thought about it- what good would talking about it actually do? It won’t solve anything. If anything, it'll just make things between us more complicated. I want you in my life, Brad, and if that means ignoring these damn feelings I have for you until they go away and I can finally accept that it’s better for both of us to just be friends, I’m more than willing to do that.”

The way Bradley was looking at her was… intense, for a lack of better word. He regarded her carefully, his eyes boring into hers as contemplating his next words. “... What if we didn’t have to wait for the feelings to go away?”

“What do you mean?”

“Before I explain, you have to promise to hear me out.”

“Okay.”

“What if we… ‘got it out’ of our system?”

His gaze continued to hold her own as he watched her process the meaning of his subtle suggestion.

“... You’ve got to be fucking joking,” Clara grumbled, attempting to remove her hand from his and rising from her stool.

“Clara, hear me out. Please.”

His tone made her pause. There was no trace of laughter, no hint that this was a joke that he had taken too far. He sounded vulnerable. Part of her wanted him to squirm a little bit, knowing exactly what that felt like. But even though he had been the cause of such feelings for her, she didn’t have the heart to willingly subject him to the same.

Clara took mercy on Bradley and sat back down at the stool, ignoring the eyes of nearby nosey patrons who had begun to eye their table curiously.

Though he seemed relieved that she hadn’t stormed off, yet, Bradley still looked on edge. Whether that was from nerves about her reaction or just the sheer topic of their conversation was unclear. He slowly leaned in closer to her, and Clara found herself remaining rigidly still. His face was just inches from hers, and Clara could only imagine what the girl at the bar would think if she saw them at that moment.

An intimate conversation, indeed.

“Just say the word, and I will drop you off at your apartment, and never speak to you again,” Bradley said, his voice low. Had he not been so close, Clara would have had to strain in order to hear him. “Or, if you want, we can pretend like this conversation never happened- and I promise to hold up my end of the deal this time. You will never hear a peep about this from me, ever again.”

Not sure how to respond, Clara nodded wordlessly to acknowledge that she was very much paying attention.

“I know nothing serious can happen between us for a whole lot of reasons,” Bradley admitted, and if Clara hadn’t been so captivated by his every word at that moment, she would have sworn there was a hint of regret lacing his words. “But we still have tonight.”

Her mouth suddenly felt dry, but feeling no other option under his unwavering gaze, she willed herself to respond. “What exactly are you proposing we do?”

“... It’s not really romantic if I have to spell it out.”

Regardless of the situation, Clara couldn’t help chuckle. “Oh, so this is you trying to be romantic?”

“No, just- ugh.” Thankfully, her joke successfully eased some of the tension. Even Bradley looked a bit grateful for the sudden interruption, and he dropped his gaze to let out a brief, breathy laugh.

Feeling emboldened, Clara reached out, and placed a hand on his knee, not knowing- or even caring- if she had meant the gesture to be comforting or enticing.

Bradley’s eyes snapped up to hers once again, and the tension quickly magnified. “I don’t know what this is me trying to be. All I know is that I care about you, Clara, a lot more than I should. A lot more than I ever planned on. And, feel free to correct me if I’m wrong, but it sounds like you feel the same about me.”

For how little Clara had to drink, his verbal admission of his feelings still had her feeling groggy with disbelief. “I care about you a lot more than I should, too.”

The hopeful smile he gave her made her heart skip a beat. “Then, would this really be that crazy? We’re both adults.”

They were. Adults who were probably far too willing to enable each other, but adults nonetheless.

“We could have tonight,” Bradley continued, “And then maybe we can finally be able to move on.”

The suggestion was risky, and emotional damage in some shape or form to one or both of them was very likely, if not imminent. And still, Clara was painfully aware of their hands, one of which was still intertwined with one of his on the table, and the other that was resting comfortably upon his knee. Just the small touches alone were extremely tempting, and she couldn’t help but crave more.

… If she was going to do this crazy of a thing with anybody, Bradley Bradshaw was certainly at the top of her list. Hell, he was the only one on the list. She trusted him full-heartedly.

“What’s your answer, Red Cross?” Bradley asked, sounding starkly meek despite his rather bold suggestion.

“Is that still your first beer?”

Brows furrowed, he glanced over at the beer bottle. “Yeah… Is that still your first drink?”

“Yes. I just wanted to make sure that this wasn’t the alcohol talking.”

“It’s not,” he promised.

“I know.”

“Then what-”

Clara silenced him by closing the distance between them and kissing him. Though he was stunned initially, Bradley returned the kiss with fervor a split second later, his free hand slowly coming up to rest on her waist.

They couldn’t be sure how long they were caught up with one another, but eventually, the need for air outweighed everything else, and the pair were forced to pull away.

“We really don’t have to do this,” Bradley mumbled quickly, his eyes darting towards her lips.

Clara’s heart wrenched a little at his clear concern for her. She squeezed his hand tighter. “I know. But I want to... I want to do this with you, Brad.”

She could tell by the look that flashed across Bradley’s face that her words meant as much to him as the notion did to her. Still, he insisted, “Well, you can still change your mind-”

“If I change my mind at any point tonight, I promise to tell you,” Clara assured him quickly, pulling him to her by his shirt and kissing him once again. When she pulled away a few moments later, she was tempted to laugh by the dazed expression on his face.

“Your place, or mine?” he managed to ask.

“Doesn’t matter, as long as I’m going with you,” she replied breathlessly, unable to control the giddy smile on her lips. But as the realization of what was actually going to happen dawned on her, she found herself suddenly nervous. “Just… Take me to home? Please.”

She would eventually come to realize that ‘home’ was simply wherever he was.

The smile he gave in response her did wonders to soothe her anxiousness. This was Bradley... She had no real cause to worry at all.

Bradley rose from his stool swiftly, holding a hand out to her. “Show me the way, Darling.”

Bradley awoke the next morning to the sun streaming in through a small crack in the curtains. He closed his eyes, sighed contently, and reached out to the space on the bed beside him. When his hands were met with nothing but empty air, he opened his eyes again and frowned.

He sat up, head swiveling around the room as he searched for any sign of his companion who he’d come home with the previous night. Though there was no sign of her, or any of her belongings, for that matter, there were several signs of the activity they had partaken in a few hours before. Various things throughout the room were off just a bit- physically not where he recalled having left them, or otherwise missing from their usual place entirely.

It was almost comical. He didn’t remember them being so particularly clumsy the night before, but he reasoned that they had both been so engrossed on the task at hand that it probably took a back seat in their minds at the time.

It was… indescribable. Better than he had dared to hope for. Better than he probably deserved. Very much like their kiss a few years back, it just felt right. Not that it could ever feel wrong. Not with her.

But, just like that- it was over. Unceremoniously and anti-climatically, he’d been left to process what had happened all by himself. And Clara Wells was gone from his life for the foreseeable future. Again.

Something odd at the foot of Bradley’s bed broke his train of thought. His clothes from the night before were folded in both a neat and yet slightly disheveled fashion, as if it had been done intentionally but also with some haste. He almost laughed into the silent air at the thought of Clara trying to straighten up the room a little before sneaking out earlier in the morning.

At least all of his articles of clothing appeared to be accounted for… with one notable exception.

Bradley smiled fondly. His little kleptomaniac.

Despite himself, Bradley laughed. Being “buddies” was possibly one of the biggest understatements to exist ever when it came to the extent of his feelings about her. But, on a bare minimum level, it was technically true.

And if he had to decide between being buddies, or them being nothing at all, Bradley knew what he’d choose in a heartbeat.

Chapter 4

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Any and all feedback is most definitely welcomed and appreciated. If you would like to be added to the taglist, please feel free to let me know.😊💙

Taglist: @gretagerwigsmuse @unluckymonaghan @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @roosterschanelslut @letusbewildflowers @roses-and-grasses

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