Soft Touch | Natasha 'Phoenix' Trace x OC

promise you'll be patient

Natasha was losing her mind.

Hangman had abandoned his fascination with Jas as soon as Cecily walked into the bar, and Natasha didn't like it one bit.

She couldn't blame him, though. Cecily was gorgeous. Kind, a badass, one hell of a pilot, and she was honestly surprised she hadn't been called back to Top Gun at first. Turns out she was the spare in case something happened to the other aviators. Cecily was the spare, the second choice, and Natasha had never wanted to shout at admirals more.

She took a swig of her beer, trying to ignore the way her stomach did somersaults when Cecily laughed, or smiled in that way that made crinkles appear around her eyes and her cheeks look rounder. She even looked cute when frowning, which she was doing a lot while talking to Hangman.

Cecily's backseater, Beacon, stood on the opposite side of the bar, waiting for his drinks. He raised one in a greeting to Natasha before he turned and headed back to his frontseater.

She only hummed in acknowledgement when Bob dropped onto the stool next to her, the salty scent of peanuts following him around the crowded bar.

Bob nudged her shoulder with his. "You're staring."

Natasha's head whipped around to face him so fast that it almost felt like whiplash. Bob jumped a little, making the peanut shells rattle in the cup. "I'm not staring," she protested, but she didn't sound very convincing. Even to herself.

Bob looked skeptical, too. "How long have you been in love with her?"

Natasha opened her mouth to argue, to tell her backseater that he was wrong, that he was seeing things that just weren't there. Then he raised a brow, pushing his glasses up his nose, and she remembered that someone trained him to pay attention. He was trained to pick up minor details most people would miss.

"Since we were at Top Gun together," she admitted.

Bob hummed. "And nothing happened."

Natasha shook her head, dispelling the memories of that time and how much it hurt to know they wouldn't see each other every day anymore. "No," she finally replied. "No, I didn't think she was interested."

She had spent those thirteen weeks dropping hint after hint that she was into Cecily, but the other pilot had seemed completely oblivious to Natasha's advances. She'd gotten so desperate around week ten that she'd asked Beacon to bring it up to Cecily. It hadn't helped. She still didn't acknowledge Natasha's incessant flirting.

"You should tell her," Bob said, bringing Natasha out of her head and back to the bar.

Natasha shook her head. "She'd freak out."

Across the room, Cecily Archer was freaking out.

A golden-haired pilot had sauntered up to her when she first arrived, looking cocky and confident, like he'd never experienced rejection a day in his life.

"Hey, darling," he'd said, heavy Texan drawl obvious to her Louisianan ears. "Can I buy you a dri–"

"I'm gay," Cecily blurted out before he could finish. She picked at her nails, doing her best not to bite them, as her eyes darted towards the bar. She locked eyes with Phoenix for a second before looking away, heat rushing to her cheeks.

He nodded. "Okay," he said, shrugging. "Can I still buy you a drink?"

She lifted her eyes to the pilot, Seresin, according to his name badge, and narrowed them. "You can't fuck me straight."

His eyes widened, shock crossing his handsome face. "I wasn't implying that I could."

"Then what were you implying?"

He put his hands up, palms facing her. "Nothing. I just wanted to buy you a drink."

"I got it," Beacon said, returning from the bar with two bottles, offering one to Cecily, who accepted with a quick thank you. "Phoenix has a new backseater."

Cecily quirked a brow. "She does?" She looked over Beacon's shoulder towards the bar where a bespectacled man slid onto a barstool next to Phoenix.

"What's his deal?"

Seresin frowned. "Bob? I don't think he has a deal."

"He's cute, though," Beacon noted, sipping his beer without taking his eyes off Bob. "Very cute."

Cecily rolled her eyes. "Stop drooling."

"I will when you do."

Cecily raised a brow. "I'm not drooling."

"But you're blushing," Beacon argued.

"I'm not."

"You are," Seresin pointed out.

Cecily stifled a groan, her eyes slipping back to Phoenix, who was already looking back at her. She smiled and when Phoenix licked her lips before smiling back, a fresh wave of heat overtook her.

"Am I really that obvious?" She asked helplessly, looking from one man to the other.

"Yeah, you've been obsessed with her for years," Beacon pointed out, shaking his head.

"I have not."

"You have."

Cecily opened her mouth to argue back, but Seresin's voice carrying across the chatter and music in the room cut her off. "Hey, Phoenix," he shouted. "Quit eye-fucking and come join us."

She elbowed Seresin in the ribs as her heart thundered in her chest, but Cecily couldn't find it in herself to be mad at him when Phoenix rose from her seat, and made her way over.

"Hey," Phoenix greeted, dark eyes focused entirely on her.

Cecily was in deep.