Altitude - Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw: A Top Gun Love Story

Chapter 3

Sydney waits for her father in the hangar, her eyes languidly following his Super Hornet as it takes a dive before pulling a sharp climb to surprise two unsuspecting jets. She purses her lips and smiles slightly as the other two F/A-18s turn to head back to base, presumably after being hit.

Sydney has witnessed enough of her father's flying to know which plane is his when he's in the cockpit. She rolls her eyes with a sigh watching him do a series of rolls over the dark blue waters of the Pacific Ocean. She hasn't seen her father in two years. And yet, not much has changed.

"Oh," she hears a voice from behind. "It's you."

Sydney turns her head and, upon seeing Rooster, she lets out a chuckle. "So, you're a pilot," she says, sounding almost disappointed.

He stops walking a few feet away from her, looking out at the field with his arms crossed. "Did you think Rooster was my given name?"

She shrugs. "A girl could dream."

Rooster raises his eyebrows and smirks at her. "Are you dreaming about me already?"

She laughs. "Yes but, in my dreams, we're nowhere near North Island and you bear no resemblance to my father." She eyes his green flight suit with a slight grimace.

He grins. "Damn, that last part was supposed to be my line."

Sydney struggles to suppress her smile. "Don't worry," she says. "I'm nothing like him."

Rooster nods. "In that case," he says, "I won't hold the fact that you're related to him against you."

She lets out a bitter chuckle. "I don't know," she muses. "I'd run for the hills, if I were you."

Rooster looks over at her and his grin widens. "I don't run," he says, walking out backwards onto the tarmac, still facing her. "I fly."

Sydney laughs, shaking her head, as he slides his aviators over his eyes and heads for the string of fighter jets parked along the flight line.

...

"How's your mother?" Maverick asks, nodding at the server who's just brought two menus to the table.

Sydney glances at him stoically. "Can we not do this, please?" she says.

"Do what? I'm not doing anything," Maverick replies.

"You want to know how she's doing? Call her and ask."

Maverick sighs. "So," he says. "You're angry."

Sydney scoffs. "Anger would imply that I care."

Maverick leans his head onto his fist, eyeing her skeptically. "What do you want me to say, Syd?"

"Do you have to say anything?" she asks, taking a sip of water. "Look, I just need a place to crash for the next few weeks."

"You can stay as long as you want – you know that," he says.

Sydney rolls her eyes. "Right, assuming you're not going anywhere."

Maverick presses his lips together. "Even if I go somewhere, you can stay," he says.

Before Sydney could determine whether or not to thank him, a party of officers enters the bar and, upon seeing Maverick, the throng heads right in the direction of their table.

"Captain!" a man hollers at the top of his lungs as he approaches Maverick. His eyes slide to look at Sydney and he raises his eyebrows at her. "Captain's... really good-looking dinner date." The man pulls up a chair, grinning at Sydney.