Now, don’t get him wrong, Maverick was Goose’s bestest friend, and he wouldn’t change that for the world. But somedays, when Nick truly wanted to separate work from home, he went to you. A little nurse at the Naval hospital in Miramar, not military, not an aviator, just a pretty civilian who had never stepped foot in the O Club, or had even met the likes of Pete Mitchell. He appreciated that more than anything most days, especially when days were hard, or long.

A drizzly afternoon in Miramar, all afternoon flights cancelled due to the weather, Nick Bradshaw took off his flight suit and respectfully declined Maverick’s invite to the beach for an all-too-serious game of volleyball against Iceman and Slider to drive to the hospital and see if you were. He knew you were, he just hoped you weren’t too busy.

Stepping into the lobby, he found the familiar route to the pediatric wing and found you at the front desk, working on some paperwork. “Not too busy, I hope?” Nick asked softly, in hopes to not startle you suddenly.