Keeper Of The Flame ━ pete mitchell [1] ✔

The thrum of the bar, usually a comfort, felt like a dull throb in Captain Kate Maxwell’s head. She’d walked into the familiar haze of stale beer and cheap perfume, ignoring the lingering glances that followed her like stray dogs.

Another day at TOPGUN, another reason to drown herself in whiskey. Viper had called her back, again, to assist with the newcomers, and the thought alone was enough to make her stomach churn. The first glass went down in one burning gulp, a familiar heat spreading through her chest.

She was Kerosene, after all. And sometimes, you just needed to light yourself up to feel anything at all.

She knew Charlotte Blackwood was beside her before she even spoke. "Viper must have dragged you from your place to get you here." Charlotte’s voice was a low hum, steady and knowing.

"Charlotte Blackwood, good to see you too. And how do you know I'm here because of—"

Charlotte cut her off with a wry smile. "Please, you and I both know you would only come here for two reasons: a mission, or Bon Jovi or AC/DC are performing." She took a slow sip of her drink, her eyes glinting.

Kate sighed, defeated. God, she hated when people were right. She signaled for another drink, the ice clinking a mournful tune. From across the cavernous room, two figures watched her, their faces indistinct in the dim light. One of them, a man with a perpetually furrowed brow, seemed particularly fixated. He said something to his companion, who simply shook his head, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“Mav, trust me, she can hold her own.”