When Ice woke up, he was alone again.

Not surprising really, he supposed. Or at least, not surprising anymore. It's gotten to the stage where not being alone would be the strange thing.

Doesn't mean he still wishes he wasn't.

There's a note pinned to his wardrobe. The same note that was there three days ago, and in another place he'd be commending Maverick's eco-awareness, but there's only so many times he can see 'see ya' without cringing.

His reflection glares at him in the bathroom. This is your own fault, it says, before rolling its eyes and leaving to make breakfast.

And it is, and he knows it. But he also tells himself that there's not much he could have done, not much he could do now, to fix it.

This is the navy. Don't ask, don't tell, all of that.

Don't make things complicated.

But they're already complicated, aren't they? Completely and utterly complicated and fucked up, and they're not getting any better anytime soon.

Iceman's always been a gambler afterall, and this was one of the biggest gambles of all.

No matter how much you try, not every bet works out. Some crash and burn, some seem to promise greater returns if you stick with them, and some flare up before slowly disappearing away.

When he left the house that morning, Iceman decided to cash in his chips.

-

What you decide and what actually happens tend to be different things.

He's squashed into a cubicle on the base, not anywhere near enough room for two, a hand fisting his shirt into a ball halfway up his chest, a tongue skating down his stomach, inching closer to his waistband.

This wasn't the plan, not by a long shot, and it's unusually reckless behaviour on both their parts. He should stop it. They're only a few feet away from Viper's office, this close to being discovered. He slides his hand around the back of Maverick's head, tries to pull him to his feet. The other man resists and Iceman can feel his will caving in.

But it's the last time, he tells himself, almost beleiving it this time.

When Maverick pulls himself to his feet, smoothing the wrinkles out of Iceman's shirt.

"I'll see you tonight, right?"

For a moment, he's silent, and he thinks about saying no, he's busy. But he's not, and then he'll just be alone and pissed off, and if the offer's there he may as well just be pissed off.

"Sure."

"Good. There's something kind of important I need to tell you."

Maverick presses a closed kiss to the corner of his mouth, and ducks out of the bathroom.

Iceman starts to make another decision, but halfway through he realises it's pointless.

-

"You free for dinner?"

"Sorry. Something's come up, I'll probably be gone all night."

"Pete…"

Nobody calls him Pete but her. He doesn't know if he likes it or not.

"Sorry. I've got to hammer some things out with Ice."

"And it has to be tonight?"

"Yeah, tonight. I'll see you tomorrow."

Maverick's sure he should feel guiltier then he does right now.

-

Maverick gets to Ice's door, and for a second they're still. Iceman gives him a look as he steps inside, questioning. He's quiter then usual, and for a moment Iceman thinks they're actually going to talk, before he steps forward and Iceman feels himself pressed against the door.

Maverick's kissing him with something new this time. Some kind of urgency, desperation. He knows he should be worried, should stop this for a moment and figure everything out before going forward, but Maverick's got one hand pinning his left hand to the wall, and the other slowly undoing his pants, and his mouth's leaving a trail of bite marks across his jaw line.

He wants to resist (really, he does), but Maverick knows all the right buttons to press, and before he can pull away his body starts responding by itself. He's getting hard, and he can hear Maverick laughing as he whispers 'finally' into his ear before slowly moving downwards.

There's a trail of abandoned clothing left around the house by the time they make it to Ice's bedroom. The edge of the bed knocks into the back of his knees and he nearly stumbles before falling onto the bed. Maverick's over him, familiar weight, and his hands trace the muscles on the other man's back. He's got Iceman's hands pinned to the bed and he grinds their hips together until he forgets all his questions and relaxes into Maverick's touch.

-

When he wakes up, Maverick's still there. And that's weird until he glances at the clock and realises it's only five am.

They're tangled together on one side of the bed, Maverick's forehead is pressed against his neck and his arm's starting to go numb from the position but if he moves he'll wake up and then he'll be gone.

It has to happen sometime though, and he gently shifts the other man awake. He was right though, Maverick's on his feet almost immediately, shuffling through the house to find his clothes.

Ice watches him get dressed, inwardly berating himself for thinking it might be different this time. Idiot.

"What was it you wanted to tell me?"

"What?"

"Yesterday, you said you had something important to tell me."

There's a pause for a second, barely noticable.

"It's not important. I'll see you on base."

And then he's gone.

Idiot.

-

He bumps into Charlie in the hallway later that day.

"Did you and Pete get everything sorted out yesterday?"

"Sorry?"

"Maverick. He said he had to go over some things with you yesterday."

"Yeah… Well, you know Maverick. It's not always clear what he means when he says something. I think we're about halfway there."

He's never been able to read her smile. There's a detachment in it that he can't quite grasp, but she taps him playfully on the shoulder and laughs.

"Well, you'd better sort it out soon. I've hardly seen him lately."

"I'll do my best."

She walks away. And he tells himself she's Maverick's problem not his. Doesn't help though. It never does.

-

It's two weeks later before he and Maverick attempt a conversation. Two weeks of attempted avoidance, and restless, unfufilling meetings at his house.

And there is something on his mind, he can tell, and this time he tells himself he's not going to settle for 'it's not important'.

They're on a balcony on the base. The sun's setting, and at another time this would be perfect. Maverick's hand on his chest, slowly fiddling with the buttons. He leans in for a kiss and for a moment he nearly gives in before pulling away.

"Not right now."

It obviously is important, whatever it is. Whatever's fueling this sudden hungry recklessness on Maverick's part.

Maverick moves away, pulling a cigarette from his pocket and lighting up.

Ice doesn't move, just stands there, waiting for an answer.

Maverick's hands are resting on the railing, the cigarette (and when did he start smoking?) trailing white smoke into the sky.

"Maverick…"

"Charlie's pregnant."

For a minute, he's sure it's a joke. Because it couldn't be true. Charlie's too smart, to aware, for that to happen. It's not a joke though, he knows that.

Maverick moves closer, takes his hand.

"I didn't know how to tell you…"

It's not something Ice wants to hear, and he pulls out of the grasp and leaves the balcony.

-

Maverick avoids him for a few days. Understands the need for it to sink in. But when he tries to find him, he can't.

"Have you seen Iceman?"

"Is he still here?"

"What do you mean? Why wouldn't he be here?"

"He put in for a transfer a few days ago."

"What? Why?"

"Got sick of teaching, decided he wanted something else? No idea."

"A transfer takes longer then a few days to sort out…"

"I think he's on leave until it's finalised. I'm sure he left contact details if you need to find…"

Charlie's cut off when Maverick dashes out the door. She doesn't see him again until the next day.

"I sent him a telegram. There's a few last-minute things I need to sort out with him."

"Sure. But if he's not teaching anymore, what would there be to sort out?"

She's fishing, and she knows he can tell.

She won though. Even if she's not sure why she wanted to.