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milliways_bar2015-07-19 07:29 pm
maverick_mitchell) wrote in milliways_bar2015-07-19 07:29 pm
Entry tags:
First Entrance - Open To All
Tonight, Bar admits a very special guest. The narration believes that it’s safe to say that there are two kinds of people here: those who know of him, and those who will know of him.
He is wearing an olive-drab flightsuit and aviator shades, with his flight helmet cradled under his arm. It’s painted in stripes of red, white, and blue, and MAVERICK is spelled out just above the visor.
Welcome to Milliways, Lieutenant Mitchell. We believe you’ll find it to your liking.
He is wearing an olive-drab flightsuit and aviator shades, with his flight helmet cradled under his arm. It’s painted in stripes of red, white, and blue, and MAVERICK is spelled out just above the visor.
Welcome to Milliways, Lieutenant Mitchell. We believe you’ll find it to your liking.
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Grace offers him her cigarette pack.
"And yeah, man. I don't believe in denying myself the finer things."
Like pretty flyboys.
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(Or Milliways. Potato, potatoe.)
He takes the offered pack, taking a single cigarette and tapping the end on Bar just right before offering it back with a smile.
"Neither do I."
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Even dangerous, maybe, given her impulse control problems.
Grace takes the cigarette with a downright saucy smile and leans over to fish her lighter out of the pack he's still holding.
"Where was the Enterprise when you wound up here?"
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He leans forward, so as to make it easier for Grace to light his own.
"I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you."
(The narration half-suspects Grace knew the answer to this.)"But I think it's safe to say we are where we're needed, and needed where we are."
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He can choose to interpret that however he wishes.
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Grace can interpret that however she wishes.
"Haven't been shot down yet."
That, too!
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A grin.
"I got better."
She sucks in smoke and blows a ring off to the side.
"Ever come close?"
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He takes a drag of his own, exhaling the smoke in a less ring-like fashion.
"Either way - nope."
He smirks.
"I'm too good."
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God knows Grace's don't.
"Got a wing man?"
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He grins.
"We call him Goose."
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"And they didn't call you Duck Duck?" She swirls a finger around the rim of her glass. "What's a RIO?"
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"A RIO is a Radar Intercept Officer. They man the radar in the backseat, handle communications, navigation, some of the weapons systems - things like that. It's a pretty cushy gig."
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She takes another long drag, expressive eyes busy checking him out while she smokes.
"Ever take up civilians?"
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Grace smirks at him and says, "You should check out the garage sometime, man. I bet you a bottle of the good stuff they got your type of plane down there."
Milliways is kind of amazing.
"Definitely got some nice land rockets down there if you want me to return the favor."
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"No offense, miss - but no land rocket can match my Tomcat. You'll understand once you're up there."
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"Call me Grace. And I know that. Still, you gotta make 'em feel good about themselves or they'll get depressed," she says teasingly. "I know my Connie's not gonna break the sound barrier, but she's pretty damn amazin' on I-35 at 3 a.m."