#𝐯. 𝐟𝐲𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐬. ——— bradley bradshaw.

[lindscys]

@fyrewalks ♡’d for a starter (still accepting) !

"you wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me."

[lindscys]

hand glanced to the watch tied tightly to her wrist –– not one of particular monetary value, much more sentimental. a gift given to her by voight and camille, on her graduation from the police academy. arguably one of the most thoughtful gifts she'd ever received. one thought crossed her mind: it was late. later than she'd thought it was, if she was being entirely honest.

"i think i can take care of myself." words laced with a confidence, not only from a detective but from someone who'd faced more on the streets of chicago than most. if there was one thing she could do, it was get home without a scratch. mostly. "have a good night." she added with a lift of her head, having appreciated the comfort of a companion, no matter how fleeting.

He raises his coffee mug, a mock salute. The more gentlemanly move would to insist that Erin can't possibly be an asshole, and while he does think himself chivalrous when the situation calls for it, Bradley isn't one for blowing smoke up someone's ass. He's an asshole, Erin's an asshole. It's as simple as that.

Unsurprisingly, her comment reminds him of Nat. They've got the same honesty, the same indifference towards themselves. The reminder should bring a smile to his lips, but the missed calls and unanswered text messages make him feel guilty instead. Yeah, he's an asshole, and Bradley's mostly fine with it, but he isn't a great friend.

That's a little harder to bare. There's no nobility in that sort of thing.

He straightens up and waves the bartender over to close out his tab. Bradley doesn't want to see the bill he's racked up. At least, he's clear minded enough to make it back up to his room.

"I should probably head back. You okay to get home?"

[lindscys]

she couldn't help the laugh that filled the air around them. his apology, while appreciated, felt like something of a politeness that in her mind, wasn't necessary. "isn't that what this is for? dual existential crises?" she asked, a playful tone of her voice as smirk stayed etched into her features. even if it wasn't their intention, it seemed to work well for the both of them.

"besides, sometimes these things have to work their way out of you. better with someone you know than leaving those thoughts swimming around your brain." she knew from the hard way just how badly being trapped with those thoughts could end up. they could persuade you to do all sorts of things in a bid to try and be free from them. she'd made promises to try not to let that happen again. "at the risk of sounding super cheesy, i like to think i'm something of a safe space."

He shrugs. Lindsey's explanation makes sense. It probably makes the wins sweeter, to not look so closely at their breadth. The simplicity of it is appealing, but for Bradley, it doesn't work out that way. He can't help but compare the details, and he supposes, if he wants to look at it closely, it has something to do with loosing both parents and then, in a way, Maverick.

"I guess," which sounds unconvincing and Bradley offers only a sheepish smile at the realization. He may not completely agree, but he won't disparage Lindsey's philosophy. If it makes the job easier, than who is he to argue with that. "Sorry - I didn't mean to turn this into something so existential."

[lindscys]

trying to understand the stars and the universe was just too big of an ask for the detective –– especially not when, considering what she'd been through in her life, it wasn't like it seemed to be spinning in her favor. but if someone else wanted to try and tell her exactly what life had in store for her based on the constellations, then she wasn't going to stop them. a sentiment that was gone almost as soon as the word asshole left bradley's mouth.

"oh nice, and here was me thinking you were about to tell me my future." she should have expected it, she liked to tell herself. but where was the fun in that?

"here's to being assholes then, right?" head cocked to one side as she put the proposition forward, far past the point of thinking about arguing, defending herself. he didn't know her, not really, so asshole was probably the right impression she'd left. "besides, keeps strangers in bars at a distance, right?" she joked, smile toying on her face.

He shrugs, but makes no attempt to disprove her comment. Bradley wouldn't consider himself a star signs guy; at least in the sense that he isn't going out of his way to check out horoscopes or is arranging his life to fit into the purposefully vague and usually hilarious predictions. It's closer to a passing interest, a gentle curiosity that's wrapped in years of nostalgia and memory.

"It probably means you're a bit of a loud asshole," he says lightly, a hint of smirk pulling his lips up.

"And," Bradley continues," if mine's supposed to be true, I should be some sensitive asshole who gets people." He snorts, shaking his head. "Pretty sure, I'm just an asshole most of the time."

It's a little self depreciating, but there's a thread of truth there. He knows he's gruff and inpatient; he is elusive with the truth, protective of his past and the memories he doesn't want to loose.

[lindscys]

erin was finding an increasing amount of comfort in the conversation with the less-than-stranger. they certainly knew and understood a lot more about one another than they had done at the outset of what had been a purely drinking endeavor. now, it was different. almost intriguing as to the path of their conversation.

though, of all the things she might have expected to hear from him, questions about her star sign hadn't quite been at the top of the list. but yet, the detective pushed her hair back out of her face, before preparing to answer.

"i wouldn't have had you down as a star sign guy." she commented, neither a positive nor negative acknowledgement from her. "i'm an aries." april born fire sign, even she could see the similarities with her very basic knowledge of the zodiac.

hands came to prop on elbows in front of her, resting under her chin as she perched on top of them. "what does that say about me?"

Bradley manages a smile. He thinks of his mom and her love of the universe. She loved whimsy and star charts; she loved the idea that coincidences and chance weren't simply luck, but rather tiny moments that were meant to be. Not for the first time, he thinks of what her reaction might be if he were able to share this moment with her.

It's a sobering thought, the reminder that he doesn't get to share these sort of things with her anymore. More powerful than any cup of coffee.

"Makes disobeying orders a bit more interesting," he adds, mirroring her attempt to lighten the mood. He's lucky, really. Refusing to return to the carrier should've cost him his wings. It would have if Maverick had died. At the end of the day, though, they both returned and brass found a way to spin it to whoever would read the classified reports.

He hesitates. He could let the conversation die here. He could bid her goodnight and retreat back to his hotel room.

Instead, he rolls his shoulders and asks, "what's you star sign?"

[lindscys]

family had never been an easy road on sharing street for erin. filled with speed bumps and pot holes, she always opted for an alternative route rather than take the trip down it. apparently, she was feeling a little braver. perhaps it was the few drinks she'd had, or the fact that sharing with a stranger always felt that little bit easier than sharing with someone close to you.

"at least it's not just me that has the complexity of family in the workplace." there was an odd comfort about it. it wasn't usual, but at least she wasn't the only one that had to deal with the tough balance of the two. obeying an order, even one that went against your nature, was always hard when the man who saved you was giving it to you.

"funny how a stranger in a bar can know just how tricky things can be for you, huh?" she asked, a bid to deflect, make light of their situations a little more than perhaps the conversation had called for. "makes direct orders a little complicated. but it's part of the job, isn't it? i wouldn't do this if it wasn't for him, so i have to expect it, i suppose."

It's a sore spot, obvious by her tension and the bit of hesitation. Not unsurprising. Bradley knows too well that the difficult one's family is, the harder it is to reveal such truths.

His eyebrows rise at the admission, but it's the only bit of outward shock he shows. Complicated. Bradley knows complicated all too well. He thought he had understood to what degree it had marked his life after his mom had passed; Maverick finally revealing the truth hasn't given him as much peace as they each would've wanted.

"I guess complicated isn't unusual," Bradley admits. "My, uh, uncle? Not by blood - he was a close friend to the family," he explains. "He was what you call my boss for a bit." An oversimplification, but close enough to the truth to suggest he understands whatever weirdness her situation must entail.

[lindscys]

nail of her thumb scratched at the label of the bottle in her hand as she listened to bradley, paper peeling off in small amounts as she contemplated his answers to what she was sure was too many questions of her own. perhaps it was just in her nature to keep asking, to keep them from coming back on her.

"my story?" erin asked, back sitting up slightly as if cautious about the question in itself, despite her being entirely in control of the answer she chose to go with, truth or not. it was tempting to stray from the truth, paint a better picture to the stranger in the bar. but even then, it felt too disingenuous for her liking.

"none of the above." she confirmed, forcing a laugh. "at least, not really. definitely no kids. a half brother, a foster brother. parents is ––" she paused, thinking to bunny, her unknown father, and the voights, "–– complicated. everyone's here in chicago though, for the most part. i think." the i think is added quietly at the end, a stark realisation that perhaps she didn't keep tabs on her half-brother as well as she should have done. a quiet note to check in when she was back in the land of the sober. "my foster father is my boss. how's that for a juicy detail?"

The question is expected. Hell, it's probably even warranted.

Bradley wants to believe that he'd do the same thing should the circumstances be flipped, if he the were the one hearing distressing claims and clear avoidance. Reality is far less kinder than wishful thinking, though; experience shows that Bradley wouldn't pry for fear of someone doing the same to him.

"Not really a question," he answers, thankful she excuses him from elaborating further. Bradley's been given enough time to fuck off and pretend his obligations don't exist, but he'll be summoned back eventually. As if it's that simple - even without his commitment, he'd never be able to ignore the addicting thrill of super sonic speeds and a rattling frame around him. It's who he is, one way or another.

"Yeah, so what's your's?" It's impulsive, Bradley's question, borne from him wanting to ignore his own circumstances and practically daring to be asked by Erin. It's too obvious. "Kids? Siblings? Parents?" One of those has to stick. "I don't know any detectives," he admits. It's not all that different than being a pilot - a childhood dream listed off by millions and millions that's pursued by a relative few in comparison.

[lindscys]

it was these things that erin had to cling on to. there were too many cases where the outcome wasn't quite as happy –– often people weren't reunited with their families at all, at least not alive. it was these ones, especially when it came to a young child, were the ones that gave her comfort in the dark moments. when cases felt impossible, holding onto the good was the only solace.

"a win is a win, right? have to hold onto them." she offered with a shrug of her shoulders, light and playful. close enough was sometimes all you had. "i don't think you can try and quantify small versus big. what might seem small to you or me, might be enormous to the people it impacts. they are all as important as each other, i think. but it's what makes it worthwhile, in my mind. don't you think?"

Bradley matches her smile. That's always been an easier thing for him to, match someone's enthusiasm, their smile. Of course, his own grin is genuine at the happy outcome, but the thought still stands. It's part of why he likes getting a crowd singing when he's at a piano, he likes the energy and feeds off of it just as much.

"Yeah," his head dips in a nod. "Can't say it's the same as reuniting a kid with her parents, but close enough I'd say," Bradley shrugs. Sometimes, it's getting back to the carrier after a tough mission. Other times, it's watching someone complete a difficult in-air maneuver. Seeing someone retire their wings after a long career. "Sometimes the wins are small."

[lindscys]

erin would be lying if she said she couldn't see similar sort of traits in bradley as she had in herself. perhaps if she'd taken a slightly different path, decided that something else was better suited for her than the police force was, and she herself could have easily been the one sitting alone in a bar without anyone knowing she was in the same country.

"do you ever think about heading back?" a question that the detective couldn't quite keep to herself, prompted by a mixture of both concern and generally curiosity as she dug a little deeper into her companion. there was a moment of silent, before she added. "you don't have to answer that."

"i'm just a stranger in a bar, what do i know?" some might have called it deflection, knocking the question to one side before something of a similar nature came back to her. shoulders rolled back, pulling her posture straighter, sitting taller in the chair she'd found herself slipping down into. "everyone has their own stories, who am i to comment on yours?"

"It's..." he doesn't finish the sentence.

Bradley is used to handling stranger's condolences, generally well meaning though unnecessary and more than occasionally uncomfortable. Strangers searching for the right thing to say, the perfect little sound bite, leaves awkward silences. Expecting more of the same, he's thrown off by the words that follow.

"I think they're used to missing me," he admits. Maybe it's the lingering alcohol, making Bradley honest. Maybe it's because Erin is still a virtual stranger at a bar, one he owes a bit of honesty to after his earlier charades. Or, maybe, it's because he craves the chance to lay out his soul without the wide-eyed, worried expressions such an action would elicit from those who know him.

Brushing the tip of his nose with his thumb, Bradley tries find the right words. This is surprisingly easier with a rush of adrenaline, he's realizing, the shaking metal frame around him and the roaring engine loud in his ears. "I didn't tell anyone when I was stateside. I don't think anyone's surprised I just... fucked off."

[lindscys]

erin had always been an act first, think later kind of person, especially when she was working on cases that involved young children. perhaps it was an over-correction, a way of stepping in and helping a child in the way that she probably needed when she was that age –– but it worked for her.

"she's back with her parents." there was a warming smile that spread across her face as she thought about. that moment of reuniting, a family coming back together after the scariest thing that had happened to any of them. it almost made her injuries worthwhile. "and he's going to rot away in a cell for a long time. which is a bonus." she added, fingers idly coming to touch lightly at her injury. it would be a while before she'd be fully mended. "have to cling on to those good moments, you know? you probably have to do the same from time to time, right?"

He shrugs a shoulder. Bradley doesn't know how to elaborate. "Just the way flying's different," it's a weak explanation, but it's the best one he can manage. Don't think, just do - funny, that Maverick spent so much time trying to drill the philosophy into his head when Bradley's historically done better with action rather than words.

Lindsey saves him from further elaboration with an answer of her own. It's not completely forthtelling, Bradley can hear the hesitation and the lack of exact details goes right along with it. Fine by Bradley. What Lindsey does share is more than enough. "She okay now," he asks. "The girl, I mean."

[lindscys]

"you're in it." erin said with a dry laugh, hands gesturing to the bar around them quickly. a favorite haunt of hers, that brought with it a sense of comfort, even in evenings where she delved to go in there alone. she was free of watching eyes, of expectations. she could talk to strangers without wondering exactly what they thought of mistakes she'd made in the past. refreshing.

"i guess i suppose there's a couple of decent places nearby. you gotta eat steak, right?" her favorite restaurant, one voight had taken her to for many special occasion over the years, wasn't far from where they were. if a recommendation was clearly what was wanted, she could certainly provide it.

"i'm sorry –– about your parents, that is." condolences came easily, for the detective. she said them almost daily as it was. "friends are important, though." she knew that as well as anyone, her words confirmed with a nod of her head. "they'll keep you going as good as anyone. they'll probably miss you if you stay away too long, you know."

Her advice is simple, and warm. It's turning into the kind of conversation he'd avoided by playing a childish game of twenty questions, neglecting to tell the full truth.

Tilting his head, he asks, "You're not gonna even suggest at least one place I must see in the city?" The teasing, both of their's, is refreshing. Bradley knows he only has himself to blame for the heaviness that hung earlier, but he deliberately pushes it away. Living in the past, even if it's only twenty minutes prior, helps no one. Hasn't he learned that already?

"Ah," Bradley doesn't hide his grimace, fingers seeking out another napkin to pick apart. Telling Erin to fuck off will only be satisfying in the short term. His truthfulness invited the question and he's already spent too much of the night avoiding the hard truths. "Just friends," he explains. Unread and unanswered texts sit heavy in his phone; most Bradley doesn't feel guilty about avoiding, but he isn't sure how long he can make Nat wait and get away with it. There's only so many apologies she'll accept. "My folks died young; don't have much family left." It's an oversimplification, but it's the truth.

[lindscys]

funny, how odd comments to one provoke the peeling back of layers for another. it was in those throw away comments that she saw more of bradley, learned a little more, without probing as such. she didn't like asking too much –– their friendship wasn't built around it. but it worked.

"sounds like it. someone's looking out for you." she commented, eyes glancing up towards the ceiling as if to reference a god or deity that she wasn't sure if she believed in for herself. still, some things had to be put down to more than just luck. "sometimes it's harder walking away from things like that. walking away from something so dangerous without a scratch can make you feel –– indestructible."

He's shocked her the same way he shocks everyone else when the mission gets brought up. Testing the boundaries of clearances is a game aviators know how to play well. He won't say when or where, or really how, but Bradley can answer some of her questions.

"Hm," Bradley shrugs. "I'm not sure the concussion or the bruises count as unscathed." Not to the mention the nightmares that plague his sleep now. Still, it's as close as unscathed as one can get when broken backs and loss of limbs are more likely outcomes of ejecting. Between him and Mav, Nat and Bob, the statistics are no longer on their side. They've beaten the odds.

"Yeah, we got lucky."

[lindscys]

erin supposed she could see something of the appeal to stopping in chicago for a while. it had it's own history, sights to see, even if she didn't think too much of it herself. growing up, the sights of the city hadn't been a priority of hers. no, she'd not appreciated the art and the architecture, too busy running away from cops and every mistake her mother had made that she dared to risk repeating.

"it's not half great either." eyebrows raise slightly, shoulders shrugging. each to their own, she supposed. it wasn't that there was anything wrong with the city. just memories of her own tainted in more places than she'd like to admit.

"no return ticket yet, that's brave. might end up stuck here if you're not careful. you won't be the first, i'm sure." there was a slight laugh to her words, as if teasing and joking a little more than she perhaps she meant with her words. "see what you can. drink what you can. it'll be a good time. there's plenty of things around here to keep you entertained for as long as you choose to stay." she confirmed.

"not got anything waiting for you to come home?"

Ha. He snorts, exhaling hard through his nose, at her suggestion. Chicago had simply been a convenient destination, far enough from any reminders of the Navy and a cheap enough flight he doesn't feel too bad about splurging on a hotel or over-priced drinks at a bar.

"Don't know, it's not half bad," Bradley tells her honestly, too aware of the picture it paints. Waiting for his flight, he'd been excited by the possibility - the anonymity, no where to be, no one expecting anything of him. Of course, getting wasted at some bar, maybe hooking up with a stranger, and repeating it the next few days had sounded thrilling. Now that he's going through the motions, the caffeine making a dent against the fog, it's not so appealing. It's fucking sad.

"Didn't get a return ticket home yet." He had wanted to keep his options open, had half expected to get bored enough to fly somewhere else before eventually returning to California.

Propping his chin on his fist, he watches the detective. "What do you recommend?"

[lindscys]

"how different?" their worlds could be so similar at times, yet at others so far from one another. she supposed that was partly why she enjoyed his company –– there was an understanding there, without being rooted within the world that she spent most of her time. she appreciated her colleagues, but sometimes their words weren't quite the reassurance she hoped for.

a light laugh came from the detective at his question, supposing that really, she couldn't get away from the truth much longer. she had to laugh it off, or else she wouldn't get through it. "a guy had a young girl. she was eleven." she started, finger tapping at the glass in her hand as she began to tell the tale. "and he wasn't letting her go without a fight. so i fought."

Dust yourself off and get up again. Fly again after an ejection; after an investigation tears through your flying history, questions every decision you've made. Face every crazy unknown, the inherent risk that comes with flying. No matter the aircraft, f-18 to a tiny cessna, there are risks and poor outcomes.

"I guess so," he says slowly. "Just used to it looking a little different." It's not like he's even completely free of the macho bravado that gets thrown around bases and bars. Hell, Bradley's ended up with a few black eyes himself. Still, he is used to the context of flying. "So, do I actually get to know what happened?"

[lindscys]

"true." he hadn't made it easy, that was true. perhaps she'd just been happy with the path he was leading her down, the answers enough to add to the picture that she was building in her mind as she learned about her companion, without considering much of an alternative. she'd use the excuse that she was off the clock to make her feel better about not considering the alternative, picking up on the clues.

"well, if you're in the city for a bit i wouldn't recommend staying in this place the whole time." erin's eyes darted around the bar, quieter than it was when she'd arrived but still full enough with the usual sort of personalities you'd expect to see. "then again, this might be your idea of a dream vacation." though, she couldn't see why.

"how long you in town for?"

Her lackluster response is expected but Bradley finds no satisfaction in having stumped her. Had it truly just been some twisted game of twenty questions, maybe. Instead, he'd been purposefully elusive, hiding not only from her but himself too.

Lying is only fun for so long.

"I didn't make it easy," he says, but the words are lackluster, a barely there apology. It feels like he should apologize and dispel any doubt he's created; he just doesn't think it'd sound genuine at all. Bradley had wanted to lie, he had wanted her to get it wrong.

Picking at a soggy bit of napkin, Bradley quiets as she responds with the usual platitudes he's gotten accustomed to hearing. He's heard them enough times that it all blurs together into meaningless appreciation. Still, it's nice to be told he's brave, especially when he doesn't feel like it.

"Got some leave," he explains, probably more honest than he's been all night. "Mandated, really - Chicago ended up the lucky pick."

[lindscys]

erin's movements stopped at the confirmation that blow up hadn't just been an exaggeration as to emotions, or some other sort of hyperbole to illustrate a point. "shit." it was about as much of a response as she could achieve, trying to process what that might mean.

"you walk away from that unscathed?" even she knew that she might be probing a little too hard. casual friends who bonded mostly over beer or whiskey, hadn't delved too much into the hard truths of their lives. "did everyone else?"

Bradley thinks he might get away with poking at Erin's answer, perfunctory as it is. He considers them friends, just not close ones. It's a loose, casual friendship defined by distance. After all, they met by chance. And while some might be discouraged by that simple fact, Bradley does well with vague casualness. No chance to disappoint her. And, in this case, he thinks it makes it easier to challenge her.

For now, he doesn't. Erin keeps the conversation focused on him, clearing deflecting.

"I mean it literally," he tells her, voice infused with humor. "Got an F18 blown up. Nearly got myself too."