#fic progress update

i have 38k currently and fear i’ll break 40 before the end of things. either way its being broken up into 3 chapters for readability because. that’s a lot. that said. a lot of progress has been made in the past week, and im trying to finish and get it out ASAP!

Happy to report that work on Chapter 4 is underway and you know what that means - new cover art time!

And, since the gaps between Chapter 2 and Chapter 3 were SO long - here's a sneak peak of the Chapter 4 WIP as thanks to y'all for being so patient with me and this story:

Callie and Natasha were both lounging in their booth towards the back of the Whiskey House on Third Avenue, enjoying their weekend’s leave. They continued chatting through the events of the previous few weeks, past tours, failed relationships and were generally enjoying the Friday night atmosphere - the bar already abuzz with revellers. WSO and pilot had luckily found an open booth around 9pm, following their arrival after a hearty dinner of wings and fries, their table punctuated with the handful of drinks they’d had in the hour or so they’d been here.

Phoenix was grateful Halo had asked her to join her to blow off some steam tonight, feeling the tension that had been wound tightly within her muscles and the agitation in her bones, further leaving her. She was facing Callie and away from the bar, so was completely unaware of the group who had just walked in, their voices concealed by the background thrum of life around them. At least, not until the other woman let out a playful groan and buried her head in her arms, resting all on the table as if it would provide enough camouflage. “Oh god, Nat… Don’t make eye-contact.”

“What?” the brunette asked, taking a long drag of her bright, tropical cocktail through its straw, “What is it?”

“Hey! Hey guys - look, it’s Phoenix and Halo!” yelled Omaha - clearly several rounds deep at this point.

As Natasha turned round to search for the source of the yelling, she spotted him waving enthusiastically - a goofy grin spreading on his face at the sight of his Operator sitting opposite her. He quickly came bounding over to swing himself into the booth next to Callie, like an overgrown golden retriever, throwing his arms around her and pulling his co-pilot into a bear hug, as she began exuding black cat energy.

“Neil… we talked about this…” Halo laughed, playfully trying to swat him off, as he pulled her into an even deeper one, before releasing her enough for only his hands to rest on her shoulders now. 

“You bailed on me.” He pouted, cheeks flushed from the alcohol, “You said you were staying in tonight and this is how I find out you both abandoned us for ‘girls night’?” her pilot whined between uncoordinated air-quotes, sounding less like a seasoned airman and much more like a young boy, sad he’d been left out. “What if I’d’ve rather been on girls night?” he added, jerking his head towards where the rest of their class was amassed, “I mean, look at ‘em.”

Phoenix couldn’t help but laugh at this, prompting Halo and Omaha to also burst into a fit of giggles at his and the other men’s expense. After they settled down, Natasha’s dark eyes drifted back towards the bar to try and see who else was now crashing her and Callie’s party.

She could see the back of Reuben and Mickey’s heads ordering at the bar from over Neil’s shoulder. Logan, Brigham, Billy and Coyote were off to their left, beers already in hand, standing a few feet behind them - Coyote offering a small smile and a raise of his drink in greeting when he noticed her. 

Scanning along the bar - her curiosity getting the better of her - she could see Jake, resplendent in his check shirt, polished belt buckle, beaten cutter-toe boots and straw Stetson, gesturing from the bartender to a bottle of whiskey high on the shelf. A little further down, Rooster was deep in conversation with a taller guy in well-fitting jeans, a blue shirt and swept-back, tousled curls. The man held a cattleman’s hat loosely in one hand and his beer in the other - but still there was no sign of her own, softspoken WSO. Not even hiding in the background or observing quietly from the outer edge of the group. She’d half-expected to see him near Mickey and a twinge pained her heart a little at the growing evidence that he was probably still on-base somewhere.

She half-turned back towards Neil to ask if Bob had been out with them too, but he was too busy in another one of his overly-animated discussions with Callie - the two currently loudly debating which snacks to order.

Something drew her gaze back to whoever Bradley was talking to. She didn’t recognise the man, but even through the light haze of the alcohol currently in her system, she found herself intrigued by his broad shoulders and the toned muscle she could see peeking out from the rolled up sleeves of his shirt. He was presently hunched over and listening intently to her old friend, but unfortunately only half-turned towards him and from this angle away from her, his face obscured by… Jake, who had just walked back into view.

Someone Bradshaw knows from North Island? Phoenix wondered silently.

As if on cue, Hangman turned his head and caught her eyeline, eyebrows shooting up briefly and then descending into a wild waggle as he glanced repeatedly between her and the man he’d caught her eyeing. A grin that spelled shenanigans spread across his lips and he reached forward and gently shook the mystery man’s shoulder. Rooster’s unknown friend jolted at the unexpected contact and spilled some of his beer, trying his best to clear it up. The Virginian swiped a couple of napkins out of one of the holders near them and handed them to his companion, before firing an unimpressed glower at the Texan.

Jake then barked a laugh, said something to the other two men and started pointing towards her. Noticing it, Rooster glanced round and caught her dark, honeyed orbs, surprise flashing across them as they flicked briefly back to the stranger he’d been talking to.

The stranger slowly pivoted round to try and see what all the fuss Hangman was making was about and she knew that jawline immediately. Her heart felt as if it was doing somersaults, before his face came more fully into view: he was no stranger at all. His eyes swept up and over her form appreciatively, his lips parting briefly as his breath caught while he drank her in.

A shiver ran through her, but her skin suddenly felt far too warm under his gaze. Then, his jaw flexed, shyness entering his expression - as if it had finally registered who he had been looking at all along.

For the second time, she and Bob had found their eyes meeting like this. Yet, the heat was there still, licking flames across her flesh, spreading throughout her like wildfire.

Until next update, may Goose bless your timeline:

But, but…I’m finally doing it. I’ve made it to the long-distance ryotaku phone call I’ve wanted to write since forever. And totally not lip syncing to My Only Star