SHAME ON THE BUNNY 5

 Part 1 of The Lies We Told Each Other

Fandoms:
Top Gun (Movies), Thunderheart (1992)

Relationships:
Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Sarah Kazansky/Tom "Iceman" Kazansky, Sarah Kazansky/Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Walter Crow Horse/Ray Levoi

Characters:
Tom "Iceman" Kazansky, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Carole Bradshaw, Sarah Kazansky, Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Ron "Slider" Kerner, Ray Levoi, Walter Crow Horse, Grandpa Samuel Reaches, Original Child Character(s)

Additional Tags:
Trans Male Character, Unplanned Pregnancy, Secret Relationship, Polyamory, Tom "Iceman" Kazansky Lives

Summary:

After all, it's a good thing that Mav and Jake stayed in Miramar with Ice, his girlfriend Sarah, and cousin Sam, because Fredericksburg, Texas, has turned out to be a place full of overly made-up women, silly girls, stiff men, and annoying boys, who don't know that Batman is the best superhero, much better than that pathetic Lone Ranger who has posters everywhere.

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Chapter 5: 1993, Memorial Day Weekend

Friday, May 21

Carole automatically stirs her tea and smiles at her cousins. She's only been at her grandmother's for two hours, and she already understands this was a mistake, but she's stuck in Texas until Monday. After all, nothing less than a catastrophe in California could justify leaving her cousin Priscilla's wedding.

The union of the youngest Abbott cousins was the perfect excuse to reunite the entire clan. Carole has encountered more uncles, aunts, second cousins, third cousins, and grandmothers than she can remember. She had to smile at them, regardless of whether she liked them, did not remember them, or (worse) remembered them and felt pure antipathy. Luckily no one expects her to also remember the names of the new generation.

Right now, as they drink tea and catch up, a bunch of blond and redheaded children are shouting from the front yard. Well, her cousins only follow the conversations they surely left on pause three days ago. She listens, makes noise where appropriate, and avoids commenting. She has no idea what she would do if her husband spent the mortgage money on the house betting on horses, if the Mexican laborers on the farm asked for a raise, or if the beauty salon owner decided to hire an Asian stylist.

She can't believe she ever wanted this life.

Now Angelina complains that limiting corporal punishment is being discussed at her daughter's school, and Carole wonders if she could have become one of them.

She guesses not because Nicholas Bradshaw didn't look at Angelina that day in the cafeteria at A&M University, where she was studying nursing and he was studying engineering through ROTC. Nick made a comment about the book of poetry she kept under the Manual of Anatomy and invited her to the movies. They saw "Interiors" by Woody Allen, and they realized that they had in common the rural origin and the fervent desire to escape from the legacy of their families. They never looked back.

Now she's looking back at what could have been, and she congratulates herself on her decisions.

Back in the yard, Bradley doesn't think he's made any mistakes and definitely congratulates himself on his decision to learn how to fight from Mav.

Behind him is the only cousin he has ever liked, David. David's breathing is ragged and noisy with fear. Brad, no, Brad will be happy to teach his cousin Chad a lesson. Because his cousin is eleven years old, and his diet doesn't seem to include enough vegetables, but he pretends to be tough. He is not, of course. Mav taught him that tough guys don't start fights.

David and Brad sat under the large poplar tree in the backyard discussing which movie was better, Disney's "Aladdin" or Michael Keaton's "Batman Returns," when David fell backward. The football the rest of his cousins had been playing with in the mud —Brad trembles at the thought— had hit him square in the chest. Brad would have simply returned the football and suggested going somewhere else, preferably inside the house, when he heard the laughter behind him.

He felt heat rise to his cheeks, but Mav's voice prevailed. "You can't let them know what you're planning. Keep calm and wait for them to make the first move."

So he helps David up and slowly turns around, the football in his hands. His eight other cousins stand about fifteen feet away, in a semicircle, and are laughing cheekily. In the center, with a proud expression,

Chad the idiot.

"Give me the football, Bradshaw," he orders.

Brad finds it really ridiculous that this fat boy is trying to order him around. What has he done to deserve he to obey him? In the two hours they've been with Mom's family, he's only seen him mistreat girls, screaming for food, and now attack another cousin for no reason.

"No."

The answer surprises everyone: the laughter stops, and David lets out a groan of fear behind him. Chad blinks, lost.

"What did you say?"

"I said I won't give you the football, khukhúše (pig). Have you never been denied anything in life?"

He can imagine Mav nodding because he is applying another of his lessons. "You must confuse your opponents. Confused people don't think clearly." He also warned him that it would never work with Uncle Ice, but Chad is no match for Ice, who is a thoughtful and kind man.

Chad is not thinking, period. His face reflects utter confusion.

"How come you won't give me the football? It's mine! And what is that "kukusee"? Did you say something ugly to me in Spanish?"

Brad makes a mocking noise.

"I told you khukhúše, in Lakota. As for the football," he passes it from one hand to the other. "why don't you come and get it?"

Now Chad is red with rage. Brad guesses that, with his size and the troop of cousins at his service, he hasn't crossed anyone capable of standing up to him in a long time. He uses the fake smile Mav taught him and takes a step back.

"Or don't you want it?"

His cousin emits an enraged roar and lunges forward. Brad waits for him calm and regrets that Mav is not there to see him apply the other two lessons: spatial awareness and use of the opponent's force.

The lessons started years ago. It was one of the changes in his life since he became a big brother.

They first moved to a new house with the help of a squad of Top Gun students commanded by Slider. Brad asked his mom what they needed another room for, and she smiled at him and said that Mav would bring them a special gift when he returned from his mission in the USS Saratoga.

"A puppy?" Brad asked excitedly.

They were having lunch with Slider, and the two adults laughed at his question.

"No honey, something even better."

"But it's a surprise," Slider intervened, "so you have to wait a little longer. Can you do that, Brad?"

He nodded earnestly.

Mav was waiting for him outside the school a few days later. It was April's last Monday. He remembers it because they were coming out of a reading test. Brad launched into a run, his godfather picking him up and spinning him in the air.

"How I missed you, baby Goose!" He said as he covered his face with kisses.

"Mav, I'm not a baby anymore. I'm seven years old!"

"Sure, sure," but he carried him to the car anyway, and Brad didn't protest because he had missed his godfather so much.

"Mom said you would bring me a special present," he said as soon as the car started.

"Yes, he's waiting for us at home." His godfather looked at him through the rearview mirror very seriously.

"It is a gift, but also a great responsibility."

Brad thought about it for a bit.

"Is it a kitten?"

Mav laughed.

"Where do you get that idea?"

"Well, Mom said it wasn't a puppy, and we have one more room in the new house. Mary has a cat and says that it takes up a lot of space, that it needs its own room."

"It is a sound reasoning, little Goose, but no. The surprise is not a pet."

"Mav, don't call me little Goose. I am already seven years old!"

"Yes, you have grown very fast."

Mav started asking him about what he had learned in school since they hadn't seen each other. It was a lot because Mav had left in June last year. At the house, Brad discovered the gift in his mother's arms. He paused in the archway between the hall and the living room, stunned and unsure if he could get closer. Mav took his hand, and they came to her. He looked at his godfather in astonishment.

"A baby? Did you bring me a little brother as a gift Mav?"

"Do you want to be a big brother, Bradley? It is a huge responsibility."

He knew it was serious because Mav used his full name, but he didn't hesitate. Mav needed him! Now he would be his RIO, like his father Goose had been. He stood to attention and gave the military salute.

"Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw reporting for Big Brother's mission."

Mom gave a short laugh, but Mav turned severe and returned the military salute.

"Mission assigned, Lieutenant Bradshaw. This is Jacob Raymond Mitchell, Baby Jake is four weeks old."

Jake made a half-pout, half-groan noise and held out his little hands as if he knew they were talking about him.

It's been two years, and Brad is happy that Mav is no longer traveling the world but teaching at Top Gun, being home, and doing everything a dad would do. Most afternoons, Mav takes him out to the yard, and they train together, so Brad can be an excellent big brother in the face of any challenge. He taught him the maneuver he's about to perform on Chad there.

"The key is not to move until the last moment, so your opponent can't change trajectory," Mav explained.

First, they practiced with beach balls that Mav threw with a hand-shuttle. Then with basketballs, that produced a few bruises that he proudly displayed on the playground. Lastly, Brad learned to dodge and incapacitate while holding baby Jake in his arms.

"Remember it's not about fighting, it's about protecting yourself and Jake, Brad," Mav insists.

Now Brad doesn't have to protect Jake. He just has to put Chad in his place to be left alone for the rest of the visit. After all, it's a good thing that Mav and Jake stayed in Miramar with Ice, his girlfriend Sarah, and cousin Sam, because Fredericksburg, Texas, has turned out to be a place full of overly made-up women, silly girls, stiff men, and annoying boys, who don't know that Batman is the best superhero, much better than that pathetic Lone Ranger who has posters everywhere.

So Brad doesn't move when Chad breaks into a headlong run like a raging bull. He passes the ball one last time to his right hand and smiles.

Chad is three meters away.

"Wait," Mav whispers.

Two meters.

"Still."

One meter.

"A little more."

Half meter.

"Almost."

Twenty centimeters.

"Now!"

Brad jumps to the right - it should be one step, but Chad is very fat. His cousin widens his eyes, manages to say, "Uh?" and collides at full speed with the big poplar. He falls to the ground. His fat belly gurgles. 
Brad finishes off the maneuver by nailing the football into his belly.

"Here's your football," he says and turns to the rest of his cousins. "This is how we do things in the Navy."

Then he walks towards the house. He will tell his mother that he is tired to see if they go to the hotel and call home.

Saturday, May 22

Pete wakes up slowly. He's wrapped in Tom's arms, and the breathing behind him is the best sound in the world. The world should be just this bed. They would put Jake between them, and nothing else could enter their universe. He sighs in defeat: his urgent need to pee proves the impossibility of that dream. He starts to get up, but Ice tightens his grip, still asleep. Mav turns and places a kiss on the corner of his lips.

"I have to go to the bathroom, love. I'll be right back."

Ice growls his displeasure but withdraws his arm.

When Pete returns to the room, his boyfriend is still asleep, so he decides to investigate the cause of the silence in the house. Where are Sarah, Sam, and Jake?

He finds the living room turned into a large playroom, where Sam and Jake assemble unstable structures out of soft plastic blocks. In the kitchen, Sarah has them in her sight as she kneads something great-smelling in a giant pot.

"Mavdad!" -greets his son and points to a stack of blue and red pieces- "Home!"

Pete leans down and kisses their foreheads.

"Yes, baby Jake, you made a lovely house. What do you build, Sam?"

"Pital," the girl says very seriously.

"All the buildings she likes are now hospitals," Sarah explains. "I guess it's my job's fault."

Pete nods and leaves them to their own devices. He walks into the kitchen, kisses Sarah, and pours himself coffee.

"For how many people will that be?" He asks, pointing to the dough that Sarah now shapes into squares and places on baking sheets.

"I'm not sure," she admits. "You know that all of Grandpa Sam's recipes are for feeding troops. But I want us to eat without worry and left for Carole and Bradley on Monday."

Pete nods. That's a good idea. He puts a couple of slices of bread in the toaster and takes the jelly out of the fridge.

"Do you want to go to the beach?" He asks between bites. Pete likes the peace they have inside this little bubble, but Sarah is pale. She needs to get some sun.

She makes a face.

"It's Memorial Day weekend, the beach must be packed."

"We can go to the cove, right Mav?" says Tom from the stairs.

Pete is speechless for a moment. Tom Kazansky walks down the stairs of his house one Saturday morning, barefoot, without combing his hair, in an old T-shirt and super short shorts. Yes, this is a divine vision.

He snaps out of his stupor with a nudge from Sarah.

"Shut your mouth. You are drooling." she says mockingly.

Pete is about to say something, but now Tom is leaning between the children: Jake and Sam squeal happily and climb on top of him. It's the kind of domestic dream he never dared to wish for.

Again Sarah cuts the epiphany, this time with the flash of her camera.

"What are you doing?" Pete is horrified.

"Relax, Mav, it's nothing. Your friend is playing with his daughter and your son. There will be nothing incriminating in the photo."

Pete thinks about it for a moment and nods. Panic recedes with Sarah's argument.

"Sorry."

She smiles, puts the camera down, and returns to molding pasta.

Still, Mav can't help but look at the camera uneasily. It's a precaution deeply embedded in their lives: no candid photos. All his family memories are carefully curated to represent the most conventional image possible.

Ice doesn't say anything, though, of course, he knows what she did. He puts the babies down and goes over to help himself with breakfast. He sits next to Mav and casually puts a hand on his thigh.

"So," he says as if the little moment of panic hadn't happened, "shall we go to the cove after you finish baking?"

Before they end with the baking, Sarah takes several more photos. Then, cautiously, she puts a new roll on the camera before they load the car and head out to the cove. As Ice and Mav guessed, the place is empty. They call it a cove, but it's a fine-sand beach, only so small and remote that the access road is little more than a dirt track.

"How did you find out this place?" asks Sarah as she snaps pictures of the contrast between the vegetation and the sand.

"One day, we went out on the motorcycle at random," Mav tells her as he unloads the folding chairs. "We left with the idea of going north and taking a detour whenever we saw an exit smaller than the route we were on. We end up here after seven or eight changes through increasingly narrow and unkempt paths. Then the challenge was to find a direct route."

"No," rectifies Ice, who has the kids. "The challenge was to return to Miramar. We were lost."

"Do you doubt my sense of orientation, Kazansky? I'm a pilot!"

"Precisely, you can only orient yourself in the air. On land, you are a threat, Maverick."

Pete blows him a kiss.

"And you love me for it."

They finish setting up chairs and umbrellas, slather on sunscreen, and Ice heads to sea with Jake and Sam.

Mav and Sarah lie back, enjoying the salty breeze.

"So? How was your first formal event as an Ice's partner?"

Sarah gives him a friendly tap on the shoulder.

"You're a bad man, Pete Mitchell. You led me to believe that pretending to be his girlfriend would be easy."

"It was not easy?"

"No, avoiding falling asleep with those conversations was not easy. I stayed alert because I had to protect Tom's virtue. All wives level 07 and up were ogling him. Rear Admiral Lower Half Tolkan's wife kept asking for details of the Layton event. Please! It was her husband's promotion ceremony. I left him alone for three minutes, I swear to you, just three minutes to look for drinks. When I returned, he was surrounded by women. Leyla Tolkan was stroking his forearm, saying something like, "Oh, Toooom, your skin is so soooft."

"Really? What did you do?"

"I arrived, put my arm around Ice's waist, looked into her eyes, and said. "Honey, do you think we can leave soon? The babysitter charges us double after eight." She almost spits out her drink."

Pete laughs. He can imagine Leyla Tolkan and the rest of her friends with their faces flushed with rage. They are a famous clique in the Navy because they enjoy harassing young single officers. The singularity of Ice, without a ring and with a daughter, undoubtedly put them in front of their own moral inconsistencies.

"And nobody said something nice to you?"

"Yeah. Captain Metcalf took an interest in us very kindly."

"Viper was there?"

"Uh-huh. He asked Tom what it was like to have a daughter and not take responsibility, "even Maverick is capable of doing the right thing in those cases, Ice," he snapped."

"Oh no." Pete turns his gaze to the shore, where Tom plays with Jake and Sam, oblivious to the chat. "That must have hurt."

"Exactly. I saw his hand tighten around the glass. I thought he was going to break it! So I said, "Excuse me, Captain, but you don't have the right to judge our relationship. Just because Tom and I aren't married doesn't make him a bad father. It makes me an independent woman."

"What did Viper say?" Mav can't imagine a man of Captain Metcalf's generation accepting a woman having a decent man's daughter and deciding not to marry him.

"He looked at me in surprise and laughed. He turned to Ice, and I swear to you, his eyes were shining. "So you found one who keeps you on a short leash," he said, "God, women like that are hard to find. When you decide to settle down, remember that Top Gun is a good community to raise families."

Pete whistles.

"It is an engraved invitation with hand-painted hearts."

She nods and sighs.

"I never thought that getting lost in my own lies would be so easy."

"What do you mean?"

"Look, we do this so that Ice avoids awkward questions at public events, but he holds my hand even when we walk down the street. He doesn't just send money for Sam; he also sends letters, and she thinks he's her father. With Ice, I know there are no expectations that we are just good friends who help each other… and... It is easy for me to imagine a future where I leave my job as an itinerant midwife and we live together. I know it's wrong, but... Yes. That is the truth. Your boyfriend is a perfect gentleman, and I lose myself in the fantasy of being his wife."

Pete looks at her in amazement. He can't imagine the courage it took for Sarah to make this confession.

"Did you rehearse what you just told me?"

She is looking at the sea. She bites her lips and nods.

Pete looks out to sea, too, but his mind is a little further away, to Washington and the recently finished House Armed Services Committee debates on accepting gays into the military. He is certain those broadcasts had the highest viewership ratings in a long time within the military community.

He knows that most of the active personnel adhere to the criteria that Viper summarizes in his annual speech of welcome to Top Gun: "The policies are things of the politicians. It is up to us to execute them and nothing else." That translates into ignoring legislative debates and campaign promises, being polite during visits by elected representatives to bases, training camps, or research centers, and, if you do get three or four stars, swallowing bile and doing your best to avoid political backstabbing.

These debates were different: they were not about the budget or how to treat prisoners of war but about the identity of the people within the ranks. Within military life, everyone knows someone they know or suspect isn't strictly straight. There are solidarity and blackmail networks that run parallel through the vast community of the US Department of Defense. Accessing one and avoiding the other demands great care but also luck. The impact of the Defense Department's human resources policies extends beyond its offices to families who will lose livelihood and honor with a blue ticket.

Pete and Tom have been living this double life for seven years already. It's exhausting and frustrating. It's… well, Jake will grow up believing that Ice is his father's best friend because of those policies, so it's horrible. He watched the House Armed Services Committee debates with a level of cynicism that surprised him. He never expected anything positive from the matter. In fact, he feels that a dark cloud is hanging over their heads. 

And then there are the ambitions of Tom "Iceman" Kazansky.

Pete has no interest in moving up the chain of command much higher. He just wants to fly fast and do whatever he can to bring back those who fly under his command. Tom, on the other hand... As he told Ray a few years ago, everyone who knows him knows he will be an admiral. So, out of love, Pete will do what befits a military spouse -Goose laughs at him somewhere in heaven, he's sure- he won't be an obstacle in his boyfriend's promotion plans and will grease the wheels in his favor whenever he can. 

He looks at Sara through his dark glasses. She expects anger, jealousy, and recrimination for her feelings. Pete doesn't find any of those things in his heart. It's impossible not to love Ice, and he only admires her courage to confess such a thing. He thinks, not for the first time that Sarah Seresin is an immeasurable gift.

"What am I supposed to do now?" He finally asks.

She turns to look at him with a puzzled expression.

"It is not obvious? Convince Ice to end this arrangement and get away from me. I am a threat to you. I told you two years ago, and here is the proof. Mav, Ice will listen to you."

"No, I won't do that." A plan begins to form in his head, but this is not the time to reveal it.

He gets up in one fluid motion.

"Come, let's go swimming. You need to relax, Sarah."

Sunday, May 23

The church looks beautiful. White and peach decorations highlight the spring atmosphere. Too bad it doesn't have air conditioning. Carole waves her fan wearily and glances sideways at Bradley, still beside her.

Yesterday was an awkward day. They arrived at the church for the rehearsal on time and -following the instructions of Page, the organizer- with clothes the same color as those they would wear at the wedding. She was in a light blue dress, Brad in a black suit and tie of the same tone. She then sat where she was directed and did her best to hide the boredom by carefully analyzing the interior decorations of the temple.
The problem was with Bradley, who had left the children's section in the last pews of the church after five minutes, said "Excuse me" to cousin Brendan with a solemn face and sat beside her. 

The coordinator stopped the bride and ran to their bench.

"Excuse me, ma'am..."

"Bradshaw, Carole Bradshaw," she said coldly, imagining what would come out of Page's mouth.

"Ah. Can I call you Carol?"

"No, you can't."

"Look, Mrs. Bradshaw, the boy can't be here."

"There is space in the pew, and he does not bother anyone."

"It is a matter of the overall vision of the wedding. We are filming the ceremony, and the space left by the height difference between your son and the adults to his sides is unpleasing. That's why we put all the kids in the back."

Carole glanced at Bradley, who had his eyes downcast and his fists clenched. She didn't know what had happened in the yard Friday afternoon, but it wasn't good because he told her how lucky Mav and Jake were staying in Miramar. Now, Brad would rather be with her than with the rest of the children of the Abbott clan. Carole knows very well where her priorities lie.

"I understand" Page smiled, relieved, and began to say.

"Very well, child, come with me to…" but Carole interrupted.

"He's not going anywhere." She turned to the other side of the bench, where ten relatives stared at her blankly. "Pass me your hymn books," she said in her best ER head nurse voice.

As the relatives passed the hymn books hand to hand, Carole took the books corresponding to her and Bradley's seats from their racks.

"Stand up Bradley."

Carole arranged the twelve volumes on the bench, then helped her son sit on them. Their faces were at the same height. Her son smiled with relief, and she felt proud. She turned to Page.

"Write down there" -she pointed to the coordinator's clipboard with his finger- "that tomorrow, for the ceremony, they must put an eight-inch-high platform here. We don't want to spoil church property more than is strictly necessary, right?"

The coordinator gave him a strangled smile, nodded, and went in search of the bride.

"We start at the top! Music?"

The rehearsal dinner was the same: Bradley sat next to her, managing to impress the other adults at the table with his table manners and careful opinions on the superiority of chocolate milk over lattes. His presence prevented issues like politics or sex from emerging. As they laughed, Carole noticed the glances thrown at her son from the children's table. Chad's, the insufferable son of his brother Richard and Tracy Morgan, were pure hate, but the other boys had a strange mixture of fear and envy on their faces. On the other hand, the girls looked at Bradley hungrily, which worried her the most.

Arriving at the hotel, she tried to find out again what had happened on Friday in the courtyard but only managed a cryptic sentence: "I applied a lesson from Mav." It did not reassure her.

They are in the church again, and Carole feels hot and annoyed. She moves the fan again and looks at Bradley, so severe next to her. She thought her son would be happy to know he has a big family in Texas, but he still had has the same annoyed, anxious expression since he realized Mav and Jake couldn't get on the plane. She doesn't know what she expected from being reunited with her family after almost five years, but it wasn't this feeling that they had nothing in common to talk about.

The first notes of the wedding march are heard, and they rise to receive the bride. As her cousin walks through the gallery, Carole can forget her anguish: Priscilla is beautiful in her peach dress and veil embroidered with red and yellow butterflies. The pastor briefly speaks about love, decency, fidelity, tradition, and divine planning, finally asking them to recite their vows.

Carole listens to them and realizes that she doesn't feel anything. All these people, two-thirds of whom are her relatives, no longer mean anything to her. Her life is in California with Maverick, Jake, Iceman, Sarah, and Sam. Even Slider!

Slider calls home every month and always has a fun adventure to tell Brad about. When was the last time someone in her family called them? A week after Goose's funeral. 

His brother Richard called to ask when they would return to Fredericksburg. She looked at the couch, where Brad had finally fallen asleep in Pete's arms, and said she didn't know. She felt the disappointment at the other end of the line like a breath of cold air. Richard and Nick didn't like each other very well, but she didn't mind because she knew her brother was small-minded and dull, like the whole family. She realized that there were horrible memories in Miramar but also a space of her, where she could make a life without the shadow of the Abbott name.

Richard didn't call again.

Her grandmother sends them postcards for Christmas and Bradley's birthday.

The ceremony feels endless.

The party is nice. The cousins invite her to dance, as it should be. She spins around and laughs, but it annoys her that she must watch their hands not go south of her waist. When she goes out with Pete —they have two young children, going out is a euphemism for going Top Gun graduation ceremonies— it doesn't happen.

Finally, when she goes to get more lemonade at the buffet table, someone asks her the question she's been dreading all weekend.

"Well, don't you think about getting married again? Your story with this Mitchell guy sounds serious."

She opens her mouth to say something vague, but Brad appears sweaty and hugs her waist. Automatically she puts a hand on his shoulder and feels him tremble. She has a sudden vision. If she had died and not Nick, her brother could have claimed custody, and now Bradley would be Chad's brother. Brother, accomplice of his abuses, or silent victim?

Nausea suddenly rises to his mouth.

"Carole?" asks the cousin on duty, Chip or Ted?

She doesn't listen to him because she suddenly realizes that her family —the one she's built with Pete and Tom— is extremely fragile. She can't stay here, surrounded by these people she doesn't know anymore but has power over Brad. She has to go back to California. Now!

It occurs to her that this trip was not a mistake. She knew in her heart that she could never return to Texas, but she had to see it before cutting ties.

Carole looks at her watch doing mental calculations: get to the hotel, pick up everything, drive up to an hour to San Antonio, and find a hotel.

She puts the glass of lemonade on the table.

"Let's go, Brad."

They don't say goodbye to anyone.

 

Monday, May 24

The phone rings persistently. Pete reaches for the receiver blindly and answers without opening his eyes.

"Mitchell."

"A woman is flying towards you."

Ray Seresin's urgent tone wakes him up like cold water. Pete sits up in bed, which wakes Tom up.

"What's happening?" he asks. 

"It's your brother," he says, pointing to the phone.

"A woman flies to you with a proposal, Mitchell," Ray repeats. "It's a proposal you can't refuse."

"Having a psychic in the family isn't as much fun as it's made out to be in fiction," Mav complains and yawns. "Good morning to you too, dear brother-in-law."

Ray growls. There are voices and clangs in the background of the call.

"I stop at the grocery store to call you. They are under construction, but the public phone works."

"Okay. That woman who flies, do you have any idea when she will arrive?"

"Today."

"That explains your haste to call, okay."

"Put Tom," Ray orders, and Pete complies.

Ice takes the phone with a bit of fear. He and Ray keep their communication to a minimum to avoid awkward questions, which could lead to an unwelcome interest in Rachel Seresin.

"Yes?"

"Mav told you about something last night, something that bothered you."

Tom feels his heart stop. It's true that what Pete said to him last night was disturbing, but Ice doesn't think it's something they should end their relationship over. He doesn't care that Ray learns of his partner's lack of moral scruples through his strange connection to the universe. He and Pete can talk about it, grow up. He won't leave his partner of seven years, the father of his child, just because he considers sex a legitimate tool to move up in life. 

Ice sighs.

"Yes, last night, he said things a bit…" -how to elegantly define his disgusting idea?- "daring. But you must understand, Ray, that..."

"Accept it," his brother cut him off.

"Excuse me, can you repeat that? Because I understood..."

"I said accept it. Accept Pete's plan. It's going to work."

"Do you have any idea what he proposed last night?"

"No."

"But I have to accept it."

"Yes."

Tom reaches out a hand and touches Pete's thigh. The warmth of his flesh allows him to focus. He knows that with half of the conversation, he can hear, Mav already understood what they were talking about.

"And in this vision you had, will we be happy or something like that?"

Ray lets out a bitter laugh.

"My visions seldom show happiness, Tommy. I just know that accepting Maverick's plan is the best of all bad scenarios on offer. Because a trans man doesn't become a US Navy admiral with talent and kindness alone."

Yes, Tom thinks, definitely the kind of scenario where you need a prophecy to dare to… No! He won't even think the word until it's strictly necessary.

"Well. I accept it then."

"God. Now I have to go. I'm helping Walter with a lost cow."

"Can't you use your powers to locate her?"

"I tried. I do no know where the cow is, but now I know it will die in five years, three months, and two days. From a heart attack."

"Heart attack?"

"This is my life. I hope yours is better, brother" -and hangs up.

Tom stays listening to the dial tone for a few seconds. Pete takes the receiver from his hand and places it on the phone's cradle.

"Ice, are you okay?"  

The blond tears his hair and nods. He can't talk about it now.

"At what time does Carole's flight arrive?"

Pete doesn't comment on the abrupt change of subject.

"At eleven" -he looks at the alarm clock next to the phone- "it's barely seven. Can we sleep a little more?"

Ice looks at him slowly: Mav is wearing nothing but boxers, his well-defined chest a golden hue from the sunlight streaming through the windows. Without allowing himself to think, he leans down and catches his partner's right nipple between his lips.

"Oh!" Mav says, quickly putting a hand over his mouth because they can't risk waking the kids.

Isn't that a beautiful image? They have to make love in silence to not wake Jake and Sam. Tom discovers that the domesticity of his situation turns him on. He grabs Pete's hand and brings it to his already wet crotch. Two fingers enter him right away while the thumb massages his clit. He continues to suck on the nipple and takes Mav's penis with one hand.

"Ice," Pete groans, "yeah, that's right."

Tom begins to move his free hand, fumbling between the sheets until he gives up and pulls his face away from his lover's chest.

"Why are you stopping?" Pete complains.

But Tom has already found the dildo and is rushing to lubricate it with his vaginal fluids, so words are unnecessary.

"Yeah, yeah, come on," Mav prompts as he leans back and spreads his legs.

He penetrates Pete in one go. Pete bites his wrist to silence his moan, arching his torso, cold sweat on his forehead. Tom rides one of Pete's hard thighs to chase his orgasm while moving the dildo at the same rhythm. Pete stops biting himself and pulls Tom in for a kiss.

They end up together.

Pete wipes the cum off his belly with a corner of the sheet and turns to face him.

"Better now?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Let's try to sleep a little more."

"Regarding what you told me last night…" but Pete puts a finger to his lips to silence him.

"Later, yes? Now, we will imagine that we have a bourgeois and conventional life: that we bite pillows when making love to avoid waking the children, that you will take Jake to daycare tomorrow, and that we will fight over the color of the kitchen wall. Give me that, please.

Tom notices Mav's green eyes are moist in the room's dimness.

"Of course, honey, I can give you that. Anything you want, I will give you. The kitchen will be the color you prefer. I promise."

They wake up again at nine.

Pete leaves for the San Diego airport at ten to pick up Carole and Bradley.

At eleven-twenty, Pete is at exit number five. When Bradley and Carole see him, they run to him with the desperation of two people who've had a hell of a weekend. Bradley jumps into Mav's arms, and Mav flips him in the air before putting him back on the ground. He turns to Carole, who was left a little behind, struggling with their suitcases. She has a smile that would light up a stadium, but she's so focused on Pete that she doesn't pay much attention to his path.

Carole's right foot collides with a suitcase. She tries to regain her balance by putting her left leg forward and opening her arms but only manages to throw herself on when she loses her balance. Pete runs to catch her, but Carole's momentum causes them to fall.

She laughs, amused.

"First time I had a crash landing."

"First time a woman flies towards me without warning," he replies.

Oh! This was what Ray's urgent call was about?

"Hey, Pete."

"Yes, Carole?"

"While we're at it, do you want to marry me?"

"Well…" he blinks in surprise.

"Please, Mav, I want you to be my dad, but don't kiss her," Bradley interrupts. "Kissing is disgusting."

The couple laughs, and the people around them, who think they are witnessing an unorthodox proposal, clap.

--------------------------------------------------------------

NOTE: 

"Don't ask, don't tell" (DADT) was the official United States policy on military service of non-heterosexual people, instituted during the Clinton administration. The policy was issued under Department of Defense Directive 1304.26 on December 21, 1993, and was in effect from February 28, 1994, until September 20, 2011.