Chapter Text
Once DADT was finally repealed, Ice put in to motion the plan he had been keeping in his back pocket for almost twenty years.
First was a trip to the flight surgeon, because without his approval, the rest of his plan is all but moot.
Once getting cleared (54 and still got it), he can set about putting the rest of pieces in place.
Next on the list is securing a F-18 two-seater for himself and Slider, because while Mav had flown single since Merlin had retired, Ice had never flown without his brother in the back seat by choice. Its child's play, honestly, and his insanely capable secretary manages to adjust his schedule to make it look like he just happened to have some free time around the same time that Maverick is slated to perform a training hop with this session's TOPGUN class. He calls up Slider with a grin and asks if he feels like going for one more ride.
"It's about fucking time, you dick!" His old RIO, now a ready-to-retire Commodore, laughs once Ice explains, "I'll dig up my old Polaroid, make sure to capture as my shots as I can."
"You're the best, Sli."
"And don't you forget it, brother."
Finally, his last task is calling up his wingman and asking if he'd mind a tag-along, citing boredom and a craving for the sky, something Mav would never think to question.
"Oh, hell, Kazansky! Of-Fucking-Course I want you up there with me! I knew you'd get antsy on the ground eventually!" Maverick's grin is a mile wide. "Those kids won't know what hit them!"
Neither will you, Ice thinks to himself, practically giddy with the thought.
The day of, the Iceman is already in the air when Maverick takes to the sky, explaining the last few rules of engagement (hah) to the younger aviators.
At the call of "Fights on!", Ice dives, plummeting in between the kids formation, breaking it apart and reveling in their panicked shouts.
"Never assume you're alone in the air, kids." Maverick chides with glee, "And to emphasize on that, Iceman is here to add an extra layer of challenge to our hop!"
Its not even close to a challenge.
The Iceman and Maverick are unstoppable, the younger pilots falling one by one to their tone, and soon its just the two of them in the air. Maverick pulls his jet into wingtip with Ice's, pops off his mask, and flashes Ice his most charming grin.
"Still got it, don't we, Iceman?"
"Never lost it, Maverick."
Mav laughs with a shake of his head. "Still my wingman, after all these years, huh?"
Ice couldn't have asked for a better opening if he tried.
He's been waiting for this moment for so long.
"You got this, Ice." Slider says into their private channel, readying his camera.
Ice takes a deep breath, stops thinking, and does.
He inverts, pulls up over Maverick, and pulls out the ring he's kept in secret for nearly twenty years.
"Waddya say, Mav-er-ick?" He grins down at the awestruck pilot below him, holding the ring out for him to see, "Ready to be my wingman for life?"