#Jean Louisa Kelly | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

the-authoress-writes · 11 months

Text

A Warm Wind Blowing the Stars Around

Or: The Iceman Melteth

Gif via @lost-shoe

Pairing: Tom “Iceman” Kazansky/Nurse!Sarah Kazansky

Synopsis: A mandatory visit to Naval Medical Center San Diego leads to more than Tom “Iceman” Kazansky thought possible.

Author’s Note: This story and Tom Kazansky were not the first story or character I expected would make my first fic on my fanfiction sideblog.

But the muse is fickle, and such is life.

I would like to dedicate this story to @bradshawsbaby, who has been so welcoming, kind, supportive, and patient.

She is an impeccable writer in her own right, and I hope this little offering, based off of her headcanon, is a suitable gift.

Thank you so much, @bradshawsbaby!

Title is from England Dan and John Ford Coley’s “I'd Really Love to See You Tonight”, and I stole a line from the song—I couldn’t help myself.

Warnings: Hospitals, mentions of needles, and mentions of blood in a medical setting.

Tom was sitting at his desk, doing paperwork, that while he knew was a necessary part of the job, the (large) part of him that lived for soaring through the skies, couldn’t wait for the last signature to be signed.

Lunch was something that his body was telling him was something needed soon, though that was mainly superseded by his need for coffee.

But he was so close, and the paperwork was not something he particularly wanted to return to after his first afternoon dose of the elixir of life.

The letters on the paperwork were beginning to not make sense, and he rubbed his forehead, willing himself to just finish the stack, by this time so, so close to finishing it all.

Just then, he looked up when he heard a knock on the surface of his desk.

“I come bearing the elixir of life,” Mav grinned, extending one of the mugs he was holding.

Tom wanted to say that he still had enough dignity at this point not to snatch it out of Mav’s hands, but judging from the smirk on his wingman’s face, that was… improbable.

As he drank the hot coffee as fast as safely possible, he heard Mav say, “I could hear your blond brain screaming for caffeine all the way from my own desk, and I figured I’d be generous and magnanimous as the best pilot—”

“The best pilot’s wingman, sure,” Tom breathed, inhaling the scent of the shitty base coffee like it was a gift from God, which, it was, honestly.

He looked up in time to catch the pissy look on Mav’s face, sitting more upright in his seat when he caught sight of Viper over Mav’s shoulder. “Sir,” he said, looking up at Viper.

Mav tracked his gaze, making to rise, when Viper waved a hand. “At ease, boys.

Tom, I just wanted to let you know that Medical called me this morning, they said you’ve been avoiding them—they want you in today, or they’ll ground you until you come in.”

“Oooohhh,” Mav breathed, shit-eating grin firmly in place, looking at Tom, and Viper turned an amused look at the dark-haired aviator. “They also wanted me to let you know that you’re up next tomorrow, Pete.”

The aforementioned shit-eating grin slid off of Mav’s face at Mach 10, making Tom smirk victoriously at his wingman.

Instead of replying, Mav just gave him the look which he was beginning to realize was the facial equivalent of saying, “Fuck you, Kazansky.”

Turning back to face the Commander, Tom began, “I—it’s just been so busy, sir,” attempting to save face at least with his CO.

“It’s okay, son, no one likes to go to medical,” the older man replied.

“Okay, sir, I’ll get to base medical after—”

“Oh, no, they said that because you’ve been—inadvertently—giving them the slip, you have to go to the Medical Center in the city; you too, Pete.”

In what was a totally unrehearsed moment of synchronicity, both he and Mav let out simultaneous “Fuck”’s.

Viper grinned, “Mmm—get that over with today and tomorrow, boys, I’ll see you both.”

And with that, their CO departed.

Tom ran his hands down his face. “Damn it.”

“You’ve got that right,” Mav grimaced. “But I honestly never pegged you as the type to skip out on the docs, Ice, Mr. ‘Ice-cold, no mistakes’.”

Tom glanced up, debating telling Mav this truth of his very existence, this thing that only his family and Slider knew.

“What?” Mav prompted, looking serious, immediately locking onto the expression on his face.

Damn fighter pilot eyes.

Tom glanced around, looking to see if anyone was around to hear.

The coast clear, he began, “I—uh, I’m deathly afraid of needles, always have been, ever since I was a kid, and I bent the needle in my arm, at a ninety-degree angle, when I got my TDaP booster.”

He braced himself for the laughter, but when he looked into Mav’s eyes, there was nothing but understanding. “I get it—that one hurts like a bitch.

If—” the other man hesitated, before continuing, “if it makes you feel any better, me, I—I avoid hospitals like the plague ever since—since.”

It didn’t take a genius to understand that Mav was referring to the aftermath of Hop 31.

“I know, Mav,” he smiled weakly, old guilt susurrating at the back of his mind.

Mav plastered a half-hearted, but no less-meant smile on, saying, “Well—how’s about we go to Medical together then, today—I finished my paperwork, and it looks like you’re almost done there.”

Tom looked down at his paperwork, and Mav was right—he was only a signature away from finishing it all.

Grabbing his pen, he signed the last signature, and downed the rest of his coffee. “We’re getting lunch first—I’m not getting a needle in my arm without sustenance.”

Mav raised a skeptical eyebrow at him. “You sure about that?”

Tom rolled his eyes. “I’m paying, Maverick, and if I do hurl, second lunch is on you.”

Mav sighed, accepting his fate.

Just then, a thought crossed Tom’s mind. “And how’d you get your paperwork done before I did—we all get the same amount?”

The dark-haired man smirked. “I made a deal with Merls—he does half of my paperwork in exchange for my mechanical services with his truck.”

Tom couldn’t help the laugh that burst out—that completely tracked.

After a light lunch at a local diner, they arrived at the large, imposing building of Naval Medical Center San Diego, Tom suppressing an anxious gulp as they went through the doors.

Having been directed to the right floor, they approached the desk, Tom taking off his Ray-Bans to address the nurse. “I’m Lieutenant Thomas Kazansky, I’m, uh, here for my physical.”

He and Mav were shuffled off to a nearby waiting area, clipboard in the former’s hand, and he began mechanically filling out the paperwork, when he heard a shaky inhale beside him.

Mav was sitting in his chair, bouncing his knee, and white-knuckling the armrests.

“You okay, Mav?”

Green eyes snapped to his. “Yeah—just—feeling a little antsy, that’s all.”

Sympathy panged through Tom. “You don’t have to stay.”

“And leave my wingman?

No thanks, I already learned that lesson.

And this way, you’ll owe me, and you’ll come with me when it’s my turn, tomorrow,” Mav smiled shakily.

“I’d come with you tomorrow even if you didn’t come with me today.”

For a moment, a heartbreaking look of wonder swept over Mav’s face, before the smile was back, still weak, but not as shaky as earlier. “Thanks, Ice.”

“Wingmen, remember?” Tom declared, holding his fist out.

Mav bumped a fist against his, saying, “Wingmen.”

Having filled out the requisite paperwork, he and Mav were eventually led to an exam room, and this time, it was Tom’s turn to be antsy.

He paced the length of the exam room, running a hand through his hair.

He could feel Mav’s gaze tracking him as he went up and down the small-as-hell room, and just when he thought the silence was going to swallow him alive, Mav began, “Did you see what Bolt got up to, when I was running BFM last night?”

He was aware that his wingman was just trying to distract him, but he was grateful as Mav began to talk about their student’s antics.

He was in the middle of laughing, when the door opened, and his gaze landed on a vision sent from Heaven itself.

She was wearing an NMC nurse’s uniform, and clunky white nurse’s shoes, but it didn’t take away from the fact that this woman—she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, with waving, light strawberry-brown hair that shone like burnished bronze, and sparkling, silver-gray eyes that glinted blue when the light struck them right.

“Lieutenant Kazansky?” she asked, and God, even her voice was like music.

Of course, the first thing out of his mouth was, “Uh.”

This vision tilted her head, a very amused expression on her face. “Is that ‘Uh’, ‘Yes, I’m Lieutenant Kazansky’ or ‘No, I’m not Lieutenant Kazansky’?”

Tom swallowed, but again, the only thing that came out was, “Uh.”

As luck would have it, he was standing right next to the seated Mav, and the other man delivered a swift kick to his shin, which snapped him from his stunned and stupefied state.

“I—uh-huh—” he blinked, “I mean, I’m—yes, I’m Lieutenant Kazansky.”

She smiled, beamed, really, and he couldn’t have been more speechless if he tried. “Okay then, let’s get started—just hop up on the table for me, Lieutenant.”

He probably walked faster than he thought, because he was crinkling the wax paper on the table the next moment.

“And lift up your sleeve for me?”

Tom rolled up the right sleeve of his khakis, glad he hadn’t worn his flight suit, because he honestly doubted he’d have the dexterity needed to open it, with his staring at her all the while, as she grabbed the blood pressure cuff and dial out of the basket on the wall.

She was very efficient as she wrapped the cuff around his upper arm, pulling a stethoscope from her uniform, and placing it beneath the cuff.

He was transfixed as she worked, aware he was being a little bit of a creep, but helpless to keep from looking at her.

Dimly, Tom heard a faint snapping of fingers, and his gaze darted to a glaring Mav, who mouthed, “Stop staring.”

He blinked, shifting tactics to jinking his gaze back and forth between her and various points in the room. “It’s uh, a bit busy here, isn’t it?” he blurted.

In the back of the room, unseen by her, Mav rolled his eyes and silently slapped his hand to his face.

“Yes,” she cheerily said, “we’re getting the recalcitrant personnel in, who seem to think avoiding their yearly is a good idea—mostly aviators, actually,” she looked pointedly at him.

“Well, I’m—I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, Ma’am.”

In his peripheral vision, he saw Mav lift his head out of his hand, an impressed expression on his face, offering his wingman a thumbs up.

She turned to him, as she kept the cuff with an incredulous smile on her lips, “You’re quite the charmer, aren’t you, Lieutenant?”

“Not really, actually—maybe just with you.”

He could see Mav discreetly pump a fist in the air, looking for all the world like a proud father.

She looked at him, a soft look in her eyes, small smile on her lips, before she sighed, shaking her head, “You’re something else, Lieutenant,” while marking something on a clipboard she produced out of nowhere. “Doctor Rainier’s going to be with you soon, Lieutenant Kazansky.

Have a good day.”

And before he could get his words straight, she was out the door.

“Ice, what the hell?” Mav cried. “You should have asked for her name!”

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know,” Tom rolled his eyes.

“There’s so many nurses here at NMCSD, you don’t know if you’ll meet her again.”

“I know, dammit.”

Silence reigned in the room.

Until Mav predictably broke it. “‘Ice cold, no mistakes’, huh?”

“Fuck you, Mav.”

“Love you too, Kazansky.”

The door opened again, prompting both aviators to perk up, only to deflate when they saw it was the doctor.

The exam itself was over rather quickly and Tom kind of tuned everything out until Dr. Rainier said, “Okay, now all we need is the blood draw, and you’ll be good to go, son.”

Fear swept over him like a tidal wave all over again. “Oh—okay, Doctor, thank you,” he gulped.

“Have a good day, Lieutenant—Lieutenant,” Dr. Rainier said, addressing Mav in the corner before he left.

Tom was just about to prepare to begin breathing exercises, but the door barely had enough time to close when someone stopped it from shutting all the way, and once again, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, entered. “Lieutenant, we meet again—I’ll be drawing your blood,” she professionally said.

And paradoxically, the fear veritably drained from him—he felt safe with her, like he could entrust her with his deepest fears. “I just have to let you know that I’m afraid of needles—deathly afraid of them.”

From where she was getting supplies in a cabinet, she looked at him gently, almost surprised, as if she were seeing something new in him. “Oh… don’t worry—I’ll do my best to make it comfortable for you.”

And it sank into him like a universal truth, like the sky being blue, grass being green, like another technical specification from his F-14’s NATOPS.

Wordless at this thought, he just nodded.

Supplies in hand, she approached, and he’d be lying if the sight of the needle in its sterile pouch didn’t make him shiver slightly.

“Left or right arm?”

“Left,” he breathed shakily.

“Okay,” she replied, tearing open the alcohol pad, and making him jolt when the cold pad hit the crook of his elbow.

Tom couldn’t help but look erratically at the area, when she noticed. “Hey, don’t look—look at me.”

When he did, she continued, grasping his arm, “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

“Alright.”

“Good—so, what do you fly, Lieutenant?”

“F-14 Tomcat,” he automatically responded.

“Ooh—fancy; out of Lemoore?”

“Yeah, actually, VFA-25, but for now, my RIO and I are at Miramar—I’m a TOPGUN instructor.”

“Must be the best then, to be an instructor,” she said.

Disguising it with a cough, Mav breathed, “Beg to differ.”

“I try,” he smiled.

“Mmm—of course you do,” she murmured, almost to herself.

Before he could ask what she meant by that, she said, “And we’re done.”

Tom looked down, incredulous, but true enough, there was a bandaid on the crook of his elbow, and a vial of blood in her hand.

“I—I didn’t even feel that,” he murmured, awed.

“I promised, didn’t I?” she proudly declared.

“You did.”

God, this woman was amazing.

“I’ll just hit the head,” Mav said, shooting him a grin and a mouthed “You got this!” as he ducked out of the room.

“You and your CO should have the results within the week—have a great day, Lieutenant.”

“Wait!” Tom called, standing as she turned to leave.

“Yes?”

“I uh, was just thinking—wondering, if—if you’d like to go out for coffee or drinks or something.”

She actually looked regretful, “I’m sorry, but… I don’t go out with patients… or aviators.”

He blinked, not wanting to give up just yet, “Is there anything I can do to make you change your mind?”

She thought for a second before looking up at him, a slight curl at the corners of her lips. “Well… I suppose… put in a little bit of effort… there’s a chance that I might change my mind.”

“What do you mean by that?” Tom frowned slightly.

“Come on, can’t spoon feed you, now, can I, flyboy,” she smirked, backing out of the room.

“I don’t even know your name,” he called.

“I only give my name to men who put in an effort,” she lightly, and slightly teasingly said, and with that, she was gone.

A beat later, Mav poked his head in. “Well, did you get her number?”

“I didn’t even get her name.”

“A quiet “Damn,” was his wingman’s only response. “You done?”

“Yeah.”

Just then, the proverbial lightbulb lit up above his head. “I just have to make a detour.”

Tom determinedly strode to the nurse’s desk, and put on his most charming smile. “Excuse me, ma’am.”

“Yes?” the nurse, an older woman, replied, eyeing him assessingly.

“I was just wondering if I could have the name of the nurse who drew my blood today—she was very kind and—”

She cut him off, “We don’t give that information out for safety purposes… Lieutenant Kazansky.

And if she didn’t give you her name, you’d best leave it there, young man,” she replied, a protective steel in her voice.

Tom blinked, nodding—he’d just have to take a different approach. “Thank you for your help, ma’am.”

“Mmm-hmm,” and with that, she went back to tapping away at her keyboard.

“Any luck?” Mav asked as they moved into step with each other, Tom automatically shortening his stride ever so slightly.

“No, no dice.”

Mav clicked his tongue. “Dammit.

What are you going to do?”

“Well—I was already going to come with you tomorrow, but now I’m definitely going to come with you.”

The next day, even though he was going to be running hops, Tom made sure to pack a set of khakis, so that he could change into them after.

He wanted to make a good impression, just in case, after all.

Mav was already waiting for him by his truck with the Kawasaki already running, uncharacteristically chipper for a man who was heading to a place which set him on edge—and he said as much. “You’re unusually happy, given where we’re going.”

The other man grinned, “Of course I’m happy, there’s a chance we could see your girl today.”

Tom felt the heat in his ears, “She’s not my girl—hardly my girl; I don’t even know her name.”

Mav clapped him on the shoulder, “And that’s what’s going to change today, I have a good feeling about this.”

Tom opened the door of his truck with a sigh. “This better not end up with something on fire, like the last time you said that.”

The Kawasaki revved up, the dark-haired aviator calling above the din, “That was one time!!

And it was only singed!!”

“Singed means that it was basically on fire, Mav.”

“To-may-toe—to-mah-toe.

Now come on!”

The two men drove to NMCSD, and repeated the same process that Tom had gone through the day before, except this time with Mav in the hot seat.

“So what’s the plan, Ice?

You gonna find reasons to come here until you meet her again?” Mav asked, swinging his dangling legs as he sat on the exam table.

“Basically,” he mumbled.

“What?”

“Basically,” Tom embarrassedly bit out. “You got any better ideas?

I’m all ears if you do.”

“Nah—that’s probably honestly the best one, it’s just that—God, your odds—it’ll probably take you forever to meet her ag—”

“Lieutenant Mitchell?” a familiar melodic voice broke in.

“Holy shit,” Mav breathed incredulously, because apparently, Tom’s odds of meeting that amazing woman again, were much, much higher than he thought, since there she was, standing in the doorway. “Yeah—yeah, that’s me.”

Tom could hardly believe his luck.

She stepped further into the room, letting the door shut behind her, and her steps hitched when she saw him. “And Lieutenant Kazansky.”

“Hi,” he breathlessly said.

“Hi,” she murmured, surprised, and for a moment, it was like they were the only people in the world.

After an all-too-short eternity, she seemingly shook her head, and strode over to Maverick, beginning the preliminaries of the other man’s physical, but she kept glancing at him, as if she were sure he’d disappear if she looked away too long.

Soon enough, she was done, and left the room, but not without glancing back at him.

“Wha—Ice; get off your ass, and take the shot—get out there!!” Mav cried, indignant.

Conscience warred with desire. “But—you—”

“Pull a me for once, and leave your Goddamn wingman—I’ll be fine!

Go!”

Tom didn’t need much more than that.

He dashed out of the room, looking both ways, and he thought he saw her down the corridor, near the Nurse’s Desk.

He walked in that direction, glad when closer inspection showed his eyes weren’t lying to him.

Tom stopped a respectful distance away, and cleared his throat.

She turned a wry glance at him. “Can I help you, Lieutenant?”

He absently rubbed the back of his neck, “Yeah, actually.

I would like very much to at least know your name.”

“Why?” was her blunt response.

“Because I really haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since last night.

Because you are witty, intelligent, unbelievably kind, and incredibly beautiful, and I’d really, really like to get to know you.

Please, just give me a chance,” he said, aware that a faint thread of desperation was weaving itself into his tone, but he couldn’t care less.

Her lips pressed into a hard line. “You know, part of me wants to give you a hard time still… but, dammit, I can’t,” she sighed, continuing, “because… I also couldn’t stop thinking about you,” she smiled. “It’s Sarah, Sarah Lewis.”

Tom held out an eager hand. “I’m Tom Kazansky, but you already knew that.”

She took his hand, shaking it. “Nice to actually meet you.”

“Same here.”

“Out of curiosity, what would you have done if I didn’t give you my name?” she asked.

He bit his lip, “Uhh, probably taken much better care of my health, and… come here every time I need to get something looked at.”

Sarah laughed, “You would have come here for the littlest things, on the off chance you’d see me?”

“Yeah, actually.”

Sarah looked at him warmly, and he felt like he would melt on the spot.

(He could mentally hear Mav’s “Iceman, my ass.”)

Feeling a little daring, Tom began, “If I may ask, may I—I’d really, really like to take you out for dinner—or even just coffee.”

She paused, then nodded, “I’m free tonight, after 5:00 PM.”

His jaw dropped. “Tonight?”

“You got a problem with that?” she grinned.

“No!” he cried, lowering his voice when the other nurses glared at him, “no, I—I’d really love to see you tonight,” he beamed.

“It’s a date then.

Meet me at the main entrance?”

He felt like he was flying in his F-14, all while on solid ground, and it thrilled him more than he thought possible. “That’s perfect.”

“Okay,” she replied, trying and failing to suppress her smile. “I kind of have to get back to work, now.”

“Okay; I’ll let you go.

I’ll see you tonight.”

“You will.”

He walked backwards for a beat, his cheeks beginning to hurt with the force of his smile, before he turned and walked back into Mav’s exam room.

“Well?” the other man turned a hopeful, expectant gaze on him, seeing that his smile hadn’t dimmed in the slightest.

“I’m having dinner with my future wife tonight, Mav.”

Tom’s reason to fear needles is based off of my own experience—I did indeed bend the needle of my booster shot in my arm when I was about five or six (I can’t remember which vaccine it was for me), at a virtually ninety-degree angle.

Fun.

BFM — Basic Fighter Maneuvers

I put Tom’s squadron as VFA-25, the “Fist of the Fleet”, which is the actual squadron number of the squadron patch he and Slider wear, and they are based out of NAS Lemoore, currently assigned to Carrier Wing Eleven, which in turn, is assigned to the USS Theodore Roosevelt, where scenes from TG:M were filmed!

#top gun #top gun fanfiction #top gun fanfic #tom kazansky x sarah kazansky #tom iceman kazansky #tom kazansky #val kilmer #sarah kazansky #jean louisa kelly

43 notes · View notes