A Game of Pool - phoenix x bob

Summary: Bob and Phoenix are playing a friendly game of pool against Hangman and Coyote. Who will win?!

A/N: Okay, I absolutely love bob and phoenix’s dynamic. they are so good together and have a great relationship. I’d wanted to write a story with the two of them, so here it is! oh yeah, also i’ve seen the requests you guys are sending me, and im beginning to work on them. keep ‘em coming, I love writing requests! I hope you enjoy! xxx- Mac :)

“What,?” Phoenix asked, leaning laxly against the pool table, “Don’t tell me you’re afraid to loose?

Bob, her new weapon systems officer (WSO), looked put off by hangman and coyote, who were wearing nothing but smug grins with their uniforms and cocky attitudes. "Not afraid,” he said, “Just slightly discouraged.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, “If we play like we fly, then we have nothing to worry about.”

Bob nodded as he coated the end of his pool cue with a thin layer of blue chalk, and hoped the games he had played back in college would pay off in this particular situation.

“Okay Trace,” Hangman said, taking a step forward with his pool cue in-between his hands, “Are we ready to get this thing on the road? There’s a gorgeous blonde over there that’s calling my name.”

There was a woman, with honey blonde hair and wispy bangs, paying penny for a margarita at the bar, and yes, she was gorgeous. But everyone at the pool table, apart from hangman of course, doubted that she would want anything to do with him.

“The only person she’s going to be calling is penny, to throw you out of here when you make her uncomfortable,” phoenix said without batting an eye.

The corners of hangman’s lips turned up into a smug grin, “you wish you were that good, Tasha,” echoing that last part while meeting phoenix’s gaze.

The only people who could rightfully address her as 'Tasha’ were a) her parents, b) her elderly neighbour who always loved to heard her stories about the men she worked with on the base, and c) rooster, whenever he was feeling particularly cocky. The two of them had known each other for years, some might say that they were rather close. But at least whenever rooster called her, he did it when they both were two sloshed from a night of drinking to remember it the next day on base.

After working so hard to make a name for herself in the navy, lieutenant natasha “phoenix” trace, did not care to be called, tash, tasha, or any variation of Natalie, which yes, did happen more often than you would expect. She simply preferred Natasha, or phoenix, anything else, especially a name that was used to purposely aggravate her, she did not appreciate. And to retaliate back, she would used the same smart-mouthed techniques that her opponent had used.

Bob looked at phoenix with a condolent look, knowing damn well how much she hated that nickname, remembering the time she confided in him that school bullies used to call her that when she was a kid.

“Whatever,” she said, looking away, “are we going to play or what?”

Coyote, hangman’s designated teammate, who honestly didn’t appear too thrilled to be playing pool on his Friday night, checked the time on his watch, “better play now before the crowd sets in at 10.”

“Ladies first,” hangman said, in a tone that certainly was not implied as chivalrous.

“Thank you bagman,” phoenix replied with underlines of sarcasm, “I’ll make sure to thank you in my victory speech.”

Phoenix bent at the waist, and held her arms steadily on the pool table, the pool cue balancing between her fingers, one, two, three then the white cue ball went powering forward into the triangle of balls, sending them every which way, making that satisfying pop! striped number thirteen, a polished orange ball, was sent straight into one of the corner pockets on the opposite side of the table.

“Nice one,” bob said, giving his partner a pat on the shoulder, “that was a great shot!”

Natasha stood up and gave bob a quick smile, and hangman one that was cocky and indiscreetly read thanks, for underestimating me you big sleaze!

Coyote was supposed to hit next, he was all primed and ready on the table, pulling back his arm to take the shot, when hangman snuck up behind him and pulled the cue back, “Actually,” he had said, “I think I’ll take the second shot.”

Coyote rolled his eyes, “Whatever, man,” disgruntled and annoyed, stepped back.

Leaning on the table, Jake “Hangman” Seresin, made sure to flex his biceps and give phoenix a wink as he primed himself for the shot. In one swift motion, he pulled his arm back and fired the dinged up white ball into the solid navy one, sending it into the middle pocket. Not as completely satisfying as the first shot, but still veryskilled.

“Bob,” hangman said coyly to the wso, “the shots all yours. Now try not to miss.”

“Its like your trying to be funny,” Bob said, eyeing his shot, “but your just not?” This comment unintentionally made a snort escape from phoenix, who in the moment, was very proud of her wso, someone who was usually pretty reserved and quiet, talking back to hangman for a change.

Bob, who had been doubting himself at the beginning, pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he eyed up the table, visually calculating which ball would have the best chance of making it into the net. After some contemplation, and trying out a plethora of positions, bob took a shot, using the rail to his advantage to push one of striped balls into the pocket. It rolled quickly, nocking one of the opposite teams away from the side lines, back into the centre, then eventually, the striped ball rolled right into the pocket.

Phoenix let out a cheer, “way to go bob!” and bob grinned, finally proving the others worthy of his place, not only at the pool table, but here, in the navy, where he had always belonged.

Lt. Robert, “Bob” Floyd, was certainly not as smart-mouthed as his co-workers tended to be. Bob tended to keep to himself on the base and he was perfectly content that way. He wasn’t as loud as the others, but he was a great guy to have as a friend. Bob, skilled and humble, would help you out in a bind, whether it be overdue paperwork, trying to meet someone at a bar, or simply just a game of beach-side football, bob would be there for anyone who allowed him to be.

“Okay,” Coyote said, lining up his shot on the table, “My turn.” The solid ball closest to falling into the pocket was guarded by the infamous 8-ball, the ultimate taboo of the pool table. You would have had to take a near perfect shot with the right angles and just a little bit of luck just not to knock it in. And Coyote, a confident and coy pilot (although much nicer and willing to work in a team setting than hangman) took the shot, sending the cue ball powering towards the 8-ball, and in his favour, his shot was just strong enough to collide the two balls, sending his desired one into the pocket, and the 8-ball balancing on the edge of the rim.

“Woah!” Bob said to coyote, “You’re goodgood!”

Coyote grinned, “thanks. my old man used to own a billiards room when I was a kid. I was practically raised there.”

Bob and phoenix exchanged a glance before phoenix went up to take her next shot. “That would have been nice to know before hand,” bob whispered to phoenix. Natasha nodded, “who knew he was that good?!”

The next round was more intense than the first had been. With both natasha and Jake missing their shots, likely due to the distraction of the music in the background, which suddenly seemed to have gotten turned up a whole lot more that it was when everyone first arrived.

Fate would only allow bob to secure his shot into one of the corner pockets. And for coyote, as expected, he got the shot he had meticulously charted out. His powerful cue sent not one, but two pool balls into separate pockets. He reallycould play!

As the game played on, the score remained tight, and the trash talking was intense. Each time Hangman missed a shot (two times to be precise), his attitude grew worse, but he was still convinced that he would be the saving grace for his team.

Bob and Phoenix had two pool balls left to hit into the pockets. on phoenix’s try, she had managed to line up one of the two balls so it could easily be knocked in when bob would go to play in the next round.

Hangman came close to getting a ball in, missing the precise shot by only a few millimetre. Coyote, who had caught the attention of a woman in the bar (no not the blonde, but instead a navy diver with her hair pulled back in braids) and he was quite eager to get the game finished with for obvious reasons. “This is my last shot,” he said, “me and meg wanna get out of here.”

Hangman’s normally sly grin ran from his face as a bee gees song began to play on the bar stereo, “Come on man!” he had said, “We’ve got a game to finish!”

Coyote took a shot, popping a ball easily into one of the nets, standing up, putting his pool cue back on the wall, “And ive got to get laid!”

Phoenix and bob exchanged a place, smirking to themselves, “I did not need to know that,” thought bob, but in courtesy of being a good friend he gave coyote the the thumbs up.

“What’s the matter Hangman?” phoenix asked coyly, “can’t play us on your own?”

Jake ran a hand through his sandy hair, and put himself back together, slowly building up that cocky grin he always seemed to be wearing. “No,” he said, “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“Than what it is?” bob asked.

“Its just that you guys are going to be furious when I single handedly annihilate you.”

Phoenix tucked a strand of her dark hair behind her ear before she leaned in for a shot, sending one of the striped balls straight into the pocket. “You sure about that, hang-man?”phoenix asked him, singing his name in the way that annoyed him the most.

He rolled his eyes and lined up his shot. He drew his arm back and then powered it forward, knocking the ball straight ahead, into, but not accurately hitting the solid ball he was aiming for. “fuck,”he cursed under his breath. It could appear that hangman was more caught up in the act of putting on a show, showing his opponents that he could fire one off, then the actual accuracy of it all.

Once hangman moved aside, bob stepped up, and took his turn. His lips were pouted ever so slightly, a habit of his that phoenix had come to notice after meeting him weeks ago. Whenever bob was thinking about something particularly complicated, or when he was trying his best to focus, which in this case, he was.But his focus paid off, hitting one of the two remaining striped balls into a pocket.

Bob and phoenix rejoiced, they had nearly won the game, now only needing to hit one ball, plus the forbidden 8-ball into one of the six nets.

Hangman took his turn now that coyote was out of the bar, probably speeding home with his date in the passenger seat of his car telling her all the things that they would do together.

No surprise, the glowing pilot, hangman, hit the ball perfectly into the corner. “Beat that Tasha,” he said to phoenix.

Natasha rolled her eyes, brushing past the comment, and did her best to score, which unsurprisingly, she did. “Call me Tasha one more time,” phoenix said harshly, “and the only think you’ll be calling me is sir.” And then like the badass phoenix is,she made the perfect shot.

Hangman was unsure by what she meant, but he smirked anyways. According to hangman himself, one of his best traits is how wellthe ladies (and the occasional guy) seemed to betroth themselves to engaging in his game of banter. Now hangman didn’t really mean the stuff he said, he just liked the feeling of getting underneath someones skin. But at times, he was jealous of natasha, she was fabulous at what she did, and hangman couldn’t handle not being the best.

Bob cheered, “One more shot, then we’ve got it!”

Hangman rolled his eyes, and then sprawled his torso all over the table, making it the biggest show imaginable. He flexed his arms again, and gave the white cue ball the perfect smouldering glare. In order to win at this rate, hangman would need to somehow get both of his solid pool balls into the nets, but lucky for bob and phoenix, they were on opposite ends of the table. The yellow one went popping in and hangman held himself smugly because of it, that same cocky look in his eyes.

“Its all your bob,” Phoenix said, giving her wso an affirming nod.

The game was now in bob’s hands. It was up to him, if he made this shot, the game would be over and him and phoenix would be declared the winners. However, the shot was rather difficult. The magic 8-ball was resting centred in the middle of the table, resting in the middle of the us navy logo that was imprinted in the felt of the table, and the cue ball was off to the side on the far end of the table. The shot would be a miracle, but bob, and his experience from long ago, gave it 'the old college try’ and miraculously managed to pop the 8-ball into one of the pockets on the far side.

“We did it!” Phoenix cheered, bringing her wso into an embrace that could only be identified as a 'bro-hug.’ An embrace where slaps on the back were insisted. Bob grinned, high-fiving his pilot, “Take that hangman!”

Hangman shorted, putting his pool cue back into its holder on the wall, “Well, I’d like to say it was a good game, but I didn’t win, so, lets just call it an alrightgame.”

Phoenix nodded at that, and shook his hand, bob following suit.

“You guys make quite the team,” Jake said soundly.

Phoenix and bob exchanged a grin. “I suppose we do,” she replied, looking brightly to her wso.

They did make a fabulous team. Bob and Phoenix. Natasha and Robert. They both understood each-other beyond speaking terms, and could read one-another’s next move based on a shared glance. they really were a great team.

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