Work Text:
It’s 0130 when he pulls into the driveway of Ice and Sarah’s home in San Clemente. Ice is passed out in the passenger seat, reeking of booze with his head resting against the window. Mav looks up at the house, the windows upstairs are all dark, but there’s light coming through the living room window.
He looks back over to a drunk and dozing Ice and sighs. He gets out of the car and walks around to the passenger side. When he open the door, Ice blinks up dazedly at him.
“C’mon, Ice. Let’s go.”
Ice looks blankly at him.
Mav briefly looks up at the night sky, then leans over into the car and unbuckles Ice’s seat belt. He grabs Ice’s arm and pulls it over his shoulder.
“You with me, Ice?” Mav asks.
Ice gives an affirming hum.
“Good. Alright, up on the count of three. One, two, three,” he heaves Ice up out of the car and braces himself, as Ice leans most of his weight on him.
“That last drink might not have been the best idea, Captain Kazansky,” Mav mumbles as they stumble up the pathway to the front door.
He searches through Ice’s pockets and pulls out his keys to unlock the door.
Sarah is standing at the kitchen island, beautiful as always, dressed in her sea green scrubs. She looks over and sees Mav supporting all of a half asleep Ice’s weight, doing his best to keep Ice from falling over. She presses her lips together to try to keep the smile from her face.
“Well, it looks like you guys had a hell of a night,” she greets them both.
Ice just groans and Maverick and Sarah both laugh.
“Hey, Sar, what are you still doing up?” he calls out.
She gestures down to her scrubs and says, “I just got back in. I'm on call tonight.”
“Everything went alright?”
“Yeah, it all went fine, nothing too difficult to manage.”
Mav nods at her, then tilts his head towards the sofa in the living room.
“I was just gonna drop him on the couch,” Mav gestures to it.
“You may as well just put him to bed. I'm already up, so it won't wake me. Just try not to wake the kids on the way up, please.”
“Will do, Sar,” he agrees while he looks over at the stairs with a grimace.
“Alright, you're gonna have to work with me here, Ice. You're heavy,” he says to Ice.
Ice doesn't do much more than hum in wordless agreement and stumble along with him.
The pair of them somehow manage to make it up the stairs to the master bedroom and Mav guides them inside.
The bedroom is lowly lit, illuminated only by a single bedside lamp. Mav maneuvers Ice to the side of the bed and drops him, then kneels down to take off Ice’s shoes for him. Ice only stares down at him, offers no help at all. Behind him, Sarah walks into the bedroom and turns on the light. Mav flinches against the bright light and Ice groans, and lays back on the bed, throws an arm across his face.
“How you doin’, sweetie?” she calls to Ice with a light laugh.
Ice looks over at her and very seriously says, “‘M drunk, baby.”
Sarah laughs again, louder this time.
“Yeah, sweetie, I can see that,” she says as she leans over the bed to press a chaste kiss to his lips. Ice clumsily kisses her back.
She pulls back and smiles at him, “And I can smell it, too,” she adds with an arched eyebrow.
Sarah turns her gaze to Mav and considers him for a moment.
“I’ll be honest, Mav, I’m a little shocked to see you walking upright and sober. You're usually the life of the party,” she teases.
Mav snorts, “Well, that is an awfully nice way to call a man a drunk, Sar.”
She gives him a kind, sly smile and shrugs, "I call it like I see it, Mav."
Mav huffs out a laugh, but doesn't disagree.
“I’ve got to be on base tomorrow, 0700, so no booze for me. Tonight, I am ‘Maverick Mitchell: Designated Driver’,” he tells her.
“You have to be on base on a Saturday morning?” she asks with a confused look.
“Yeah, we got a couple of DC big-wigs coming in for a demonstration on Monday. We’re doing a final practice run through tomorrow morning.”
Sarah digs through a dresser on the opposite side of the room, pulls out one of Ice's Annapolis t-shirts and a pair of pajama pants.
“How was the party?” she asks.
“Well, I wasn't at Cougar's first bachelor party, but Ice said this one was a hell of a lot classier than the last,” he quips.
Sarah laughs.
“Well, I should hope they have at least a little more sense at 42 than they did at 22.”
“Not a whole lot, but some,” he retorts as she steps into the bathroom and all but shuts the door, leaving it only a sliver away from closed.
Mav turns back to Ice and sighs. Ice hates sleeping in a belt and he knows Ice won’t sleep well unless he takes it off. Ice lacks the coordination to do it at the moment, so Mav resigns himself to the fact of the matter. He reaches over and unbuckles his belt, tries to slide it through the loops on his pants, but can’t manage it.
“Lift up a little, please, sunshine,” Mav quietly asks, and Ice does. Mav pulls the belt through the pant loops and drops it on the ground next to Ice’s shoes. When he looks back up, Ice has pulled his arm away from his face and is staring at him. Ice reaches his arm out and places his hand on Mav’s jaw, rubs his thumb across his lower lip.
"You're beautiful, baby," Ice mumbles and tries to pull him closer but Mav shakes his head and gently pulls Ice's hand away from his cheek.
“We don't do that anymore, sunshine.”
Ice frowns and hums. “Why not?”
“Because you don't want to.”
“Yes I do,” Ice says.
“No, you don't. Not when you're sober. It's time to go to sleep now. You can call me in the morning if you want, okay?”
Ice faintly nods and turns his cheek into his pillow, falls asleep in moments.
Sarah is leaning against the door frame of the master bathroom, dressed in her pajamas with her hair down past her shoulders, looking at them both.
Mav glances at her briefly, but won't meet her eye.
"He wants you," she eventually says.
Mav half shakes his head, and chews on his answer for a moment.
“Not as much as he wants everything else.”
He finally looks up and meets her gaze. They stare at each other with the weight of it all.
“I don't mind sharing,” she finally says after a long silence. Mav gives her a sad sliver of a smile.
“He made his choice, Sarah. And it wasn't me. We had our time and now it's done.”
They both look down at Ice, sleeping peacefully, unaware.
“I'd have been happy living a small life with him. Punching my ticket out at O-5 or O-6. Retiring with him, wherever he wanted to go. San Diego, Honolulu, even back East if he wanted. But that's not what he wants. He's got ambition. He wants stars on his shoulders. You know that. And he couldn't have that with me. He can’t have both. And he'd rather have his stars. And you.”
He looks down, away from Ice and away from the weight of Sarah’s heavy gaze. He braces his hands against his knees and pushes up from the side of the bed where he had been sitting.
“He's lucky to have you, Sarah,” he says solemnly.
The both of them let the statement sit in the air for a moment. Considering the weight of it. Then Mav breaks out a tired, charming half smile.
"And he's only lucky he found you first. I'd have snapped you up in a second if I'd had half a chance,” he deflects.
Sarah huffs out a laugh and he gives her a tired wink.
“Come on, then. I'll walk you out,” she says as she gently nudges him to the door.
“Thanks for getting him home tonight,” she quietly says.
“He's my wingman. Getting him home safe is part of the job.”
“Well, I appreciate it all the same, Maverick.”
Maverick just nods.
He stops half way down the staircase and places a hand on Sarah’s shoulder in front of him. “Sarah, I....fuck. Sar, I…,” he peters off, and shuts his eyes, truly exhausted.
She pauses on the stair below him and turns back, looks at him, waiting for him to finish. After a moment, he gathers himself and opens his eyes, meets her piercing gaze.
"He's yours, Sarah. I wouldn't..... you don't have to worry about... I mean... he's yours, that's all I was gonna say. He’s yours."
She stays silent for a moment, and Mav can hear the hands of the beautiful grandfather clock ticking away in the living room below.
"He's a little bit yours, too, I think," she responds.
He shakes his head.
"No. He could've been, if he'd really wanted to be. But he isn't. He's yours, Sarah," he repeats.
Sarah looks at him, and he can see the pity in her eyes. He hates it. Wishes it was him looking at her with pity. Wishes it was her bringing Ice home to him , instead.
"You're a good man, Maverick."
"I'm really not," he disagrees.
"You are," she argues. "And you’re certainly a better one than he is."
"No, he's... he's the best man I know."
"I promise you he isn't. I love him, more than I can say, but he isn't, Mav. If he was, he wouldn't be married to me."
Mav only shakes his head. He looks down at his watch, the second hand ticking away, nearing 0200.
"It's late. I have to be up at 0600."
Sarah smiles sadly at him, but lets him have his excuse.
“Drive safely, Mav,” she says as she opens the front door for him.
“I always do. Put Jack’s cartoons on extra loud tomorrow morning for me. We gotta keep Ice humble somehow,” he retorts.
Sarah laughs, “Alright, I will. Have a good night, Maverick.”
“You as well, Sarah. I’ll see you around.”
Sarah shuts the door and he walks slowly back to his car. He leans against the driver side door as he stares up at Ice and Sarah’s beautiful home. He watches as the lights dim through the living room window, and then, later, as the lights dim upstairs in Ice and Sarah’s bedroom window.
He opens the car door, slides in, and pulls away.