Summary: At a yearly Navy dinner, Vice Admiral Simpson decides to bring his niece to get her out of the house after a breakup. She isn't thrilled until a certain aviator catches her eye all night.
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x reader (female, she/her pronouns, no y/n)
Warnings: The usual. Everything is Mature, I'll mark explicit. Drinking, swearing, sexual innuendos. Mention of a breakup and of parent death-nothing graphic.
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"I don't know how you do these things," her voice was strained as she came down the tall flight of stairs. Her dress was a bit too tight for her comfort zone, the dark emerald satin starting to feel more like a noose wrapped effortlessly around her body. Her hair was done in a new way and a bobby pin was doing it's damnedest to continually poke into her brain.
"Honey, I don't have time for the whining, just get down here," Cyclone rolled his eyes as his recently shined black shoe tapped impatiently on the cream colored marble floor.
"Sorry, Uncle Beau- I mean, Command- I mean-" her stuttering was complimented by her stumbling down the stairs in the great hall. A sheepish grin took over her features as the Vice Admiral reached out to catch her after missing the final step.
"Listen, Billie," he sighed as she straightened her dress, her ears pricking a bit redder at the nickname ("Kill Bill" was a movie she had demanded to watch as a kid, not understanding the content of the movie and when her uncle finally let her watch it, she was haunted by nightmares for weeks. Unfortunately, the nickname was too cute not to stick).
"- I just need you to smile, enjoy the food, maybe dance, and then we'll get you out of here." He sighed as he saw her head drop again. He had agreed to take his niece to the annual Navy function after his wife had insisted upon it- the poor thing had just been dumped and, having lost both her parents previously, she had practically been living at her aunt and uncle's.
"Billie- look at me," her eyes slowly looked up at her uncle.
"I know I know, just don't trip," she took in a deep breath and forced a smile. She linked her arm through his and they walked into the grand ballroom, her heartbeat matching each click of her heels as they were announced in.
Hangman almost spat out his drink when he saw the Vice Admiral walk into the room.
"Holy shit- look at the piece on Cyclone!"
The entire dagger team whipped their heads to look towards the ballroom's doors, trying to catch sight of what Hangman had seen. Fanboy thought it was a joke until he saw the woman with the placated smile bowing her head towards some of the other commanders nearby.
"Jesus! Who knew Cyclone had it in him? I can't-"
"She's not with him," Phoenix interrupted, "His wife's been on base recently," every male in the party looked at her befuddled, "You morons, we all saw her! He introduced her to Maverick before training like two weeks ago!"
Fanboy and Coyote looked at each other and shrugged, Bob pretended to agree and then shook his head, and Hangman downed the last of his drink. Phoenix was about to chastise the group again when she noticed that she had gotten no response or commentary from Rooster.
"Bradshaw," the sandy brown hair barely tilted towards her at the mention of his name, "for the love of god, do NOT try anything with the Vice Admiral's daughter." Rooster was still frozen, his eyes locked on the woman who had walked in. He couldn't help but memorize every detail of her: the way her dress flowed behind her with every step, the folds of the dress around her left hip, the way her hand kept perfectly still on the admiral's forearm.
"Yo, Rooster, friendly wager?" Hangman's voice cut through his thoughts, forcing him to, for the first time since she had entered, turn away. He shook his head and went to challenge his fellow pilot, but suddenly felt the hair stand on the back of his neck. He slowly turned around. half expecting the Vice Admiral himself to be breathing down on him.
As Bradley's eyes scanned the room (and while he ignored Hangman's taunts and preemptive bragging), his eyes finally locked on the culprit. It was her. Seated in the middle on a long banquet table, her soft eyes stared at him intently, as if she wanted him to know that he was the object of her attentions.
Almost as quickly as he caught and held her gaze, the Vice Admiral next to her tapped her wrist, forcing her to turn and shake hands with Warlock as he took his seat. It was after some short remarks that the dinner then began.
Bradley was quick to notice that the woman seated on the stage in the front was keenly observing him as he continued to mindlessly eat the food in front of him. He was grateful to have chosen a seat to the side of the round table so he could catch her eye every time she glanced at him. He loved watching the way she would pause with her fork pointed down and then fein interested in the conversation happening around us.
When the Vice Admiral took to the podium and started droning on and on about, well, honestly, Bradley had no idea about what. He just kept his gaze on the beauty at the table. She was no longer hiding that she was looking right at him and he was sure he was going to get caught, eat least by someone at his table.
He glanced around and realized no one was paying him any mind (well, except for Hangman who waggled an eyebrow at him as a taunt, focing Rooster to roll his eyes). With his conscious clear, he took in a shaky breath, caught her eye again and gave her his best "Rooster" grin. He could've sworn he saw her giggle and glance down quickly to grab her napkin to stop the laugh as Warlock looked over at her curiously.
A few moments later, Rooster was convinced he had crossed a line. His eyes continued to plead with her to look back up at him, even just one more time. He settled to studying the way that the dress draped around her shoulders and the delicate golden chain that lay right above her collarbones.
He had finally made his mind up- he needed to meet her. Cyclone be damned. His career be damned. His life be damned. He needed thirty seconds with this woman. To do what, he wasn't exactly sure.
It was at this moment that Rooster realized he had checked out a bit too long. Everyone else at the table was standing. Payback had kicked his chair leg hard, automatically causing Rooster to stand. He started catching the compliments from the Vice Admiral:
"...our Naval Aviation Warfighting Development Center has continued to not only grow the finest aviators in the Navy, but continues to utilize and deploy alumni of the Navy Fighter Weapons School to help complete missions that are, well, impossible, frankly."
She knew the joke was a cheap one, but, when you're Vice Admiral, you get a laugh out of every joke you give at the annual dinner. Her aunt had warned her of her uncles terrible sense of humor and inability to read any joy in the room. She giggled to herself.
She wasn't quite sure why, but her eyes kept wandering over to the pilot (she assumed) with the moustache and the brown hair (or was it sandy? the lighting was horrific in the ballroom). He had caught her eye as soon as she walked in, but in a way that every other eye who glanced at her had not.
His gaze was kind. Inquisitive, but kind. She had grown up around naval pilots most of her life after her dad and then her uncle's chose professions. She knew how most were, especially those of the Top Gun variety. When she saw him stand as a graduate, she felt her stomach drop- this guy was bad news.
And yet, she couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face as he stumbled to stand and immediately looked to lock eyes with her.
Bradley continued to hold her gaze and gave her a crooked smile as his fingers mindlessly played with the hem of his dress blues. He had forgotten that he was in this ridiculous penguin suit. Thank god, he thought, as Warlock motioned for the task force at his table to sit down. He caught Maverick's eye as he sat and shrugged, but Pete Mitchell knew better: he had seen that look in a Bradshaw's eye before. It was the night that Goose had met Carole.
"And, before this party really gets going," Cyclone gave a hollow laugh which was reciprocated just as lifelessly, "I do want to thank all the support systems that are behind each and every one of you. Your families, your parents, your siblings, your children. I'm honored today to have my niece with me this evening." He paused and some tittering comments were whispered at tables.
"My wife Kelly said that I should clear up any confusion about my date tonight, lest any of you think this is my style."
The sternness of his comment mixed with the ridiculous clarification actually caused uproarious laughter that was quickly snatched up by the DJ as the music started. Cyclone sat down and gave a small smile to his niece, patting her arm.
"Aunt Kelly wrote that for you, yeah?"
He took a swig of his whiskey, "Damn right she did. Everyone in this room thought I was a dirty old man til I said something."
She laughed and hugged her uncle, thrilled that he was finally starting to lighten up a bit.
"C'mere Billie, let me introduce you to some members of Bate's team. He's got some characters you might remember...."
She stood gingerly and took her uncle's arm, smiling at Rear Admiral Bates as he started to walk her towards the table she had been staring at all night.
"Knew someone?" Her brain was in overdrive- who had she met before that her Uncle knew that would be at Top Gun who-
"Billie. My God! the last time I saw you-"
Cyclone cut him off "The last time you saw her she was 10 and I threw you out of my office."
Maverick wasn't capable of having a sheepish look to his face, but he tried his hardest. Billie smiled at the pilot and hugged him, though she wasn't entirely sure that it had been her in her uncle's office when the altercation has occurred. But, she wasn't one to make things awkward.
"So nice to see you again," she gave him a short bow and desperately tried to see through Bates as he was standing directly in front of the chair that had kept her interest.
"Maverick is working on a new team as a strike force. His group of graduates is right here," Bates stepped out of the way and she stared at the table. Well, she stared directly at one member of the table. She forced her eyes to leave as the names and callsigns were relayed to her, but there was only one she cared about.
"uhm, I'm Br-Bradley Bradshaw. I go by R-Rooster." His voice was more than she could've imagined. It was sweet and gruff and had a rasp to it that made the sweat prick on her skin. It was then that she realized that they were waiting on an introduction. Her uncle had already started for her.
"-but we usually refer to her as Billie or Ms. Simpson," the emphasis was put on the second of the two names and everyone caught the implication. She felt her cheeks go hot but she took a deep breath and forced herself to tear her eyes away from Bradley Rooster Bradshaw long enough to say hello.
"What you all do is incredible. Thank you for your service and your sacrifice." The table nodded in appreciation and then quickly scampered away once the Rear Admiral dismissed them.
"Alright kiddo, time for me to go and smoke a cigar outside while you enjoy yourself in here. And remember, anything that happens tonight..."
"...We don't tell Aunt Kelly, I remember." She smiled as her uncle headed towards the doors with some admiral whom she could never remember his name. She quickly walked to the bar and ordered her usual: gin and tonic. After a large gulp, she felt her nerves start to settle. What she hadn't noticed was the figure standing next to her looking at her expectantly.
"Hey there, sweetheart, I've never seen a Vice Admiral's niece before...." The Texan drawl was painfully thick and Billie turned quickly to see her culprit. The blond who had also been staring at her during their introductions tipped his fake cowboy hat and sidled up closer to her.
"What you mean," she retorted, "is you've never slept with a Vice Admiral's niece."
The man stepped back, a hand over his heart. "You wound me, m'lady. I made no such suggestion," he took two steps closer, she could feel his breath hot on her neck and ear as he brushed back part of her hair, "I've been with a few Vice Admiral's daughters, but I want to see where a niece stands in that lineup."
As he (Hangman? something dumb, she thought) continued to try and defend himself, she caught him from across the room. Bradley had locked onto her like a missle and he was pissed. She raised an eyebrow at him and then, while keeping eye contact, patted Hangman's arm and then his cheek in the most chastising way she could manage before she stepped away, heading to a nearby balcony, leaving two men stunned in her wake.
It didn't take long for Bradley to find the woman he had been hunting for. Honestly, he would've run after her after Hangman had pulled his stunt, but he wanted to here the dejected pilot's recounting of the story. Hangman downplayed it, but it was clear he was not used to being turned down by any one, especially one that came with such a high rank in the family.
"It's for the best, Bagman," Phoenix teased and reasoned, "You mess with her, the VA is gonna be up your ass and in all your business. There is no way this works out well, right, Fanboy?"
"Why'd you pick on me?! I didn't do anything and I had no idea that her brother was a Green Beret!" The group broke into peals of laughter as they headed for the bar. It was only Bob who noticed that one member of their party had quickly slipped away and was heading in the direction of a certain off-limits Vice Admiral's niece.
Bradley stood in front of her completely frozen. She was facing out towards the balcony and had surely heard him come out, but he couldn't seem to find any words to explain what had happened that evening. Bradley realized he had no idea what love at first sight was or, honestly, what finding love meant, but he knew when he looked at her, his world stopped.
"I don't bite, Bradshaw," her voice was lilting and startled the pilot. "I'm glad you found me out here," she paused and Bradley thought he would fall over as he waited on her every last word, "though honestly, I'm not really sure what happened in there."
He was grateful for her honesty and was relieved that she was just as confused as he was. Before he realized it he had stepped next to her at the balcony, completely oblivious to the view. She smiled at him and then dropped her eyes to his uniform.
"These things must be awful to dry clean," he hedged, eyes looked back up at him through her lashes. Bradley let out a honest-to-god laugh and she couldn't help the bubbling feeling she felt in her chest or the blush that tinged her cheeks. She noted every freckle, every scar, every wrinkle on his face. The way his lips were just the slightest bit crooked and the way his eyes glistened when he laughed.
"They are the absolute worst, but I can't imagine that emerald silk is much easier," he gestured to her gown and she felt the blush grow.
"I'll let you in on a secret- I stole this from my aunt, so I have no idea on the care and washing instructions."
Bradley chuckled and stepped infinitesimally closer to her, his calloused hands barely touching the fabric ruched ust below her hip.
"I can't see Mrs. Vice Admiral wearing this, so thank god for you." He smiled at her and it was difficult to decipher between the dig at her aunt and the charmingness he was oozing. She decided it was clearly nerves and laughed with him.
"I'll take that as a compliment. Thank you, Rooster, was it?"
"Ma'am, you may call me whatever you'd like, I'll always respond." The earnestness of his response caught her off guard, but made her melt just a bit more. She nodded curtly, dropping her gaze to her shoes, trying to hide the giggle and blush combination that was happening. Bradley smiled, meaning every word and pleased with the effect that it had on the woman in front of him. He took in as deep of a breath as his blues allowed him and held out his hand.
"While you think of a new nickname for me, may I have this dance, ma'am?" Before she realized it, her eyes shot up and looked at him concerned. If her uncle saw her dancing with someone, especially with someone who was in the Top Gun program and had been working with Maverick- she liked Bradley too much to let her uncle eat him alive.
Bradley was quick to note her hesitation, "Out here, I mean. The music is loud enough, we don't need to let you back into that room to wander into the immoral clutches of some godawful Navy pilot, right?" She smiled in relief and nodded, quickly taking Bradley's hand and swaying immediately to the music. His hand was placed on her lower back and she sighed, taking in the smell of him.
Bradley wanted to jump out of his skin. He wasn't exactly sure what had happened but he was damn glad that Payback and Harvard had dragged him to the dinner tonight. He made a mental note to gift them some nice whisky the next time he was out.
With every step, he took in another one of her features. Her smooth skin, her hair and they way it fluttered in the light breeze, her smell, the way her hand fit in his- he was completely enraptured.
"Bradley?" He let out a small 'mhmm?' his eyes still closed as he swayed with her.
"I have to get back. I know my uncle is going to be looking for me and-"
"and you don't want a sacrificial death on your hands. I completely understand." Bradley looked down at her and pressed a hesitant kiss to her forehead. She blushed, but reached her arms around his neck pulling her lips flush against his. He was shocked but immediately melded into her, the touch electric to both parties.
The kiss was over as soon as it had started and she started to pull away, the slightest flush to her cheeks when Bradley grabbed her arm.
"Your number. I have to see you again," she smiled and spotted a pen and paper on a nearby tray with a waiters book just inside the doorway of the balcony. She stepped out quickly and ripped out one of the pages and quickly scribbled down her name and number. He kissed the paper as she handed it to him and then leaned in again, kissing her quickly as the two exited the small balcony.
"There you are!" Her uncle's booming voice was off to her right as she waltzed back into the ballroom. "I'd like you to meet Rear Admiral Cain, he's one that worked with your dad way back." She smiled politely and all but jogged to be over by her uncle. It was almost imperceptible, but just the tiniest bit of her lipstick was smudged. Maverick happened to be in the next conversation over and looked at the Admiral's niece and then towards Rooster, all but laughing out loud when he noticed the smear of lipstick on his adopted nephews lips.
As the Vice Admiral started to make his exit, niece in tow, he turned to her.
"Thank you for coming tonight. I think your Aunt Kelly had a bit of a plan for both of us here," he smiled and put his arm around her shoulders. She laughed and nodded- she was there to relax her Uncle a bit and he was there to get her out amongst people again. As she opened her mouth to agree, it shut quickly-there was suddenly some commotion as they reached the doors.
"What the hell are they doing?" Her uncle groaned and then she saw it- the team she had met earlier (save for a sourpussed Texan) was cheering and a few had even lifted Rooster up on their shoulders as the pilot waved a piece of paper around. She turned bright red as Bradley caught her eye and waved the paper around.
"Idiot must have gotten lucky on a bet..." she giggled and nodded with her uncle's assessment of the situation. She sent one last glance over her shoulder and it caused even more whooping and hollering from the group. Though he pretended not to notice it, Vice Admiral Beau Simpson could not have been more pleased.
"C'mon Billie, let's get you back home, it's movie night. Maybe some Kill Bill?"