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Chapter Text

All things considered, Maru actually liked the winter months. Compared with the constant stress of the summer months, the blustery weather that occurred in the Park’s mountains and valleys tended to lead to quiet days and long nights hunkered down by the fireplace. As long as Maru helped Cabbie keep the runway clear (because everyone knew that Blade was utterly worthless for the task), the mechanic had plenty of time to tinker.

By the relaxed pace of November couldn’t last. Just when Piston Peak was starting to settle into a winter rhythm, the holidays arrived and everything once again went into overdrive. But unlike the summer months, during the short holiday peak, the park was severely understaffed to handle the large numbers of visitors exploring the park’s winter landscape. 

“We have an overdue hiker.” The call from the lodge caused the Piston Peak Air Attack base to spring into action. Maru got on the horn to get details while Blade hit shower for a coat of deicer and Cabbie warmed up on the runway. It took less than 30 minutes for both aircraft to be in the air and only 45 for both of them to be in position over the trailhead the hiker was believed to have used.

“I have bad news for you two.” Maru interrupted, Blade and Cabbie’s radio chatter. “You are looking for a white vehicle.”

The mechanic was actually proud that Blade managed to keep a civil tongue in his mouth. Cabbie, on the other wing, managed to utter a string of expletives that included words from at least a half dozen languages. 

“Language.” Blade huffed over the air attack channel once Cabbie had to pause to take a breath.

“And you weren't thinking the exact same thing.” Cabbie shot back, then after a short pause, a tinge of humor seeped into his voice. “Also, really, you choose this moment to go all ‘Captain America’ on me.”  

“I can do this all day.” Blade snipped back. 

It didn’t take long for the two aircraft to fall into a comfortable rhythm, scanning the landscape below but not having much luck locating a white car in a snowy white landscape. Eventually, the sun began to slip lower in the sky, and the lengthening shadows made the searcher’s work even more difficult.

“On your left!” Blade chimed once again as the two aircraft crossed paths on the search grid once again. To which Cabbie simply gave a good natured grumble. 

“Dudes, you guys are embarrassing me in front of the wizards.” Maru only just managed to not chuckle over the radio. “But honestly, we are running out of light. Time to come back in. We will get Cabbie fueled up and back out once it gets properly dark.”

“ Wilco. ” Cabbie commented. “I will follow the Chief’s aft in and make sure he doesn’t get lost in the dark.” 

“ At least it is America’s Aft. ” 

Maru shouldn’t have found Blades comment as funny as he did...but the mechanic couldn’t resist.

Finding the missing vehicle proved to be easier to do in the dark of night. It only took Cabbie about an hour to spot the hiker’s taillights and guide the ground team into the snowbank that the car had managed to get themselves stuck in. By the time the old plane had gotten back to base, Blade and Maru had gotten a proper dinner put together. 

“It isn’t too late…” Maru commented as he cleared the dishes after the meal. “Why don’t we pull out a Christmas movie?”

“You are going to make me watch Die Hard again, aren’t you?” Cabbie sighed tiredly.

“Maybe.” Maru smiled into his coffee. Which of course meant that Maru already had the projector and ‘classic’ Christmas film set up in Blade’s hanger, and while Cabbie grumbled for a bit he still joined the two other vehicles to participate in what was now an annual holiday tradition...and no one was surprised when Maru pulled out Ironman 3 to fill out the Christmas double feature. 

Chapter Text

With the Christmas and New Year’s well and over, the Piston Peak Air Attack base settled into its quietest period of the year. With the reduced duties, this was usually the time of year when Blade and Maru went on vacation. It was also usually the only time of year when the two vehicles weren’t practically glued to each other’s GPS location. Maru, after all, had a lot of family in the San Francisco area, and Blade didn’t have standard tastes when it came to choosing vacation spots. As a courtesy, they would usually stagger their trips, to ensure that Cabbie wasn’t completely left alone for more than a week or so. 

This year the normal routine was thrown out the window because Maru convinced Blade that they really needed to go somewhere warm, so the two of them could park themselves on some beach in Mexico...probably drinking things out of a coconut. This meant that Cabbie had made his own arrangements with Jammer to make sure that a safe workspace was maintained at the Base. 

Historically this had usually meant shutting the base down and having Cabbie operate out of the lodge. In fact, that is exactly how things had been done for the first decade of the Air Attack Team’s existence when Cabbie was the only year-round aircraft in the park. He really didn’t miss the day’s when he would spend snowstorms hunkered down on the lodge tarmac because guests had taken every available spot in the hanger, and there was literally no other structure that could hold his bulky size in that area of the park. That said, Cabbie knew that Superintendent Jammer would make sure that he had a roof over his head if he chose to do something similar today...but what would be the fun of that?

The C-119 had an entire airstrip to himself and he fully intended to make the most of it. So he invited one of his C-119 buddies to visit for one week and arranged for the ‘grandkids’ to join him for the aircraft version of a camping trip for the other. 

Lift, one of the last C-119’s still in the air, arrived from Hollywood a couple of hours before Blade and Maru were going to ship out. The aircraft wore the silver, white, and international orange paint well, and he landed on the airstrip like a plane that was used to being the center of attention. 

“Looks like someone got cast in something recently...” Cabbie muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Maru to hear. But he put on his best smile to greet his friend. “

“Yep, we just finished up filming about two weeks ago and I haven’t gotten around to getting my paint swapped out.”

“Hm…” Cabbie hummed as he gave a look that indicated his disbelief. It wasn’t that difficult to get your paint redone.

“Fine.” Lift gave an exasperated sigh before dissolving into a good-natured chuckle. “I just like how it feels to be in warpaint again.”

“Hm, that is what I thought.” Cabbie comment was sharp, but there was warmth at the edges of his voice. “And I am betting that you have taken every possible opportunity out there to be seen in it.”

“You know it.” Lift winked at Blade. “And I suspect your Chief has been to most of the spots that I strutted my current digs, as I suspect that Casa Vega would have been right up his alley during his heyday.”

Blade stared at Lift for a few long moments, but it was clear that the C-119 was immune to the effects of the glare. Finally, the Chief admitted defeat and he glanced over at the mechanic. “Maru.”

“Yes?” The tug didn’t try to hide his amusement.

“You packed?”

“You know that I have been packed for the past week.”

“How would you feel about having lunch at that Mexican place you like in Fresno?”

“But, Lift just got here…” Maru, added a slight whine to his voice for dramatic effect. The mechanic was clearly playing this conversation for all it was worth.

“I am paying and I am driving.” Blade stated flatly and both Cabbie and Maru were smart enough to know exactly what the helicopter was getting at. Blade was trying to bribe Maru with margaritas.

Maru took a moment to leave Blade hanging, for dramatic effect, of course. Then after silence was taut with tension, the mechanic made his move. “Will there be a to-go order of nachos?”

Blade gave the mechanic an exasperated eye roll, and both Cabbie and Lift dissolved into a fit of barking laughter. Maru just looked at the surrounding aircraft with an exaggerated look of innocence. 

“More time for Cabbie and I to get into trouble then.” Lift tittered once the laughing had slowed to the point he could breathe. 

“Don’t get Cabbie too drunk.” Maru winked at the big plane as he trundled off to grab his baggage. Which only encouraged Blade to follow him to make sure that the two of them got off base before the tug gave Lift any other ideas.

For all of Lift’s tail pulling, he was actually a responsible guest and week sailed by in comfortable comradery. Unlike Cabbie, Lift had developed a sense of taste during his time in Hollywood. After the first night’s dinner, the actor would shoo the firefighter out of his hanger’s small kitchenette so that he could produce a meal that was ‘edible’ or he would go and grab takeout from a classy restaurant while Cabbie was on patrol. The former warplane took the situation with good humor. After all, if his friend wanted to cook, he didn’t have a tire to complain. Anyway, it was kind of nice to have a break from his normal winter duties. 

Sadly, while Lift was perfectly willing to spend a week shooting the breeze and sipping a little high grade with an old friend, the old plane was also perfectly content to be a bachelor. He didn’t have any desire to chase after children, thank you very much. So, while Lift had helped Cabbie warm up the main hanger, he had excused himself the morning before Pickles and his brood arrived. Which left Cabbie manning the Air Attack Base alone for a couple of hours.

It was kind of nice to have the base to himself for a few moments. It was a breath of calm that he rarely experienced outside of a long solo flight. But like all good things, it was doomed to quickly come to an end. The sound props soon echoed across the winter landscape as Pickles radioed Cabbie to request permission to make a final approach into the Piston Peak Air Attack Base Airstrip. 

As Pickles came in for a landing, Cabbie was reminded just how big the C-130 was. The cargo aircraft was on the upper end of what the base could safely land. Arrow, Grid, and Compass Rose followed their father in once the runway was clear. As they did, Cabbie could see how big they were getting. He suspected that once three kids were fully grown, they would be too large to land here. That was especially true for the two boys who were already taking after their mother’s build.

Pickles stuck around through dinner to help get the kid settled and reminded Cabbie that he would only be a 30-minute flight away if he was needed. Then, it was just Cabbie and the kids. While the C-119 hadn’t been left alone with the brood often, he knew enough about being a grandfather to understand what the expectations were. This meant that he let them stay up watching TV into the wee hours of the night...which had the dual benefits of making the young planes feel like they were having an adventure and making sure they were still asleep pass noon, which free Cabbie to complete his morning parols in peace. Yes, it meant that Cabbie was running on less sleep than he would prefer, but it was still more than he got on some fires, so he wasn’t complaining. 

Cabbie had, of course, also stocked up on foodstuffs before Blade and Maru had left on their trip. Growing planes ate a lot after all, and the C-119 couldn’t ask the base to cover that expense, especially given the fact that he got both a paycheck and a pension. The food was nothing fancy but they were dishes that the kids knew by heart. They cooked army food, a mixer of hot dogs, canned beans, and pineapple chunks. A dish that would have been right at home in any military canteen during the Vietnam War. Then there was Budae-jjigae, a spicy stew which was a perfect blend of Korean flavors and the types of canned food that could be smuggled off a military base. From buttery cinnamon toast to roasted marshmallows for dessert, Cabbie had made sure that his guests would never be able to claim that they were hungry. 

Throughout the week, the old plane did his best to make sure that his young companions had plenty to do. He had plenty of aviation maps from interesting places for them to look at and chart imaginary flight plans across. He purchased aircraft controls for the smokejumpers’ gaming system and let them play the age-appropriate video games. He even got permission to allow the three planes to join him on some of the simpler patrols of the park.

It was clear that Arrow, Grid, and Compass Rose had a good time on their camping trip...but there were also still kids, and there were limits to how much ‘grandpa’ time they could stand. By the end of the week, they were ready for some fresh faces and so they were thrilled to hear the sound of approaching rotor beats. The three young planes were well briefed on runway safety...but that didn’t stop them from swarming the Blade and Maru as soon as the helicopter’s rotors had come to a complete stop. 

“So, Uncle Maru, Uncle Ranger, did you bring us presents!” Grid chirped and practically bounced on his tires. 

Maru winked at Cabbie before giving launching into a very dramatic tale about how he had lost ‘their’ chocolates at the beach, which finally ended when Blade had enough of the mechanic’s long-winded rant and dumped the box of sweets out his hatch. Arrow, Grid, and Compass Rose were, of course, delighted and set upon the chocolates with a gusto that would make the viewer doubt the planes well fed all week. 

Cabbie chuckled at the sight and swore to himself that he would find a way to make it up to the pair...after he had shepherded the young planes back to their parents.  

Chapter Text

The bloody Pineapple Express had set up again, and the base was getting dumped on every three to five days. The warm moist air that fueled the storms came from the region around Hawaii, which meant the snow was significantly heavier than usual. This type of snow would create a heightened flooding risk come spring, but at the moment, it was creating an immediate logistical problem...it was a pain to keep the runway clear.

Out of the team, Cabbie seemed to be the only one to not be particularly bothered by the situation because, for some reason that Blade didn’t understand, the aircraft actually liked winter. The avalanche abatement plane was continually monitoring the weather, and when the worst of the storms hit, he would wake up multiple times in the night to make sure it didn’t get too deep on the tarmac. Clearing the taxi and runways usually took hours, and it was not uncommon for enough snow to have fallen in the meantime to require the C-119 to start the entire process again.

Cabbie never asked for help when these types of storms hit, but he always seemed to get it. Sometimes road crew vehicles would manage to make their way up the base’s access road and then would bend their blade to keeping the tarmac clear. Sometimes it was Blade and Maru who would feel guilty watching Cabbie shoveling away at the Sisyphean-like task, and they would head out into the bitter cold to help for a couple of hours. Sadly, neither Blade nor Maru had the cold weather build to stay at the task for long, and Cabbie would soon be powering through the task alone once again.

There was an unspoken rule for days like these. That Blade and Maru would take on as many of Cabbie’s base chores and tasks as possible to free the plane’s time up for dealing with snow. And this included the task that Blade and Maru hated most...cooking. Because Blade was capable of burning even water, he was relegated to assembling things like sandwiches while Maru manned the cooking pot. The act of preparing a meal usually took an hour or two longer than it would under Cabbie’s watchful eye, but as the storm outside howled, no one was in a hurry to get things done fast.

“Soups’ up!” Maru shouted through the thickly falling snow, and when that failed to get Cabbie’s attention, he paged him over the radio.  Cabbie muttered some sounds in reply, but a few minutes later, Blade could start making out the shape of planes wings, making its way towards them through the blowing snow. 

“There is no point in you fighting the storm right now.” Blade stated between sips of coffee. “The moment you push the snow off the runway, the wind blows the whole pile back on. The wind is supposed to die down in a couple of hours, why don’t you rest until then.”

For a few long moment’s Blade suspected that Cabbie would protest, but the old plane just closed his eyes and sagged heavily on his tires. This storm was pushing him towards his limits because he didn’t even bother hiding the exhaustion from his voice. “Wake me when either the windbreaks or if the snow starts to get too deep.”

With that, Cabbie drained his soup and settled himself in front of the fire. Blade suspected that the old bird was probably asleep before his tires had come to a complete stop. He left the helicopter and the tug to sit and listen to the storm pounding against the hanger. 

“So, you up for a game of Uno?” Maru asked, filling the silence. 

“Only if you are ready to be beaten again.” Blade scoffed as he pulled out the cards.

The two of them played long into the night, knowing that it was their job to listen for the wind to finally die down. When that happened, Blade and Maru would wake Cabbie back up, and let him know that it was time to repeat the process of clearing the tarmac once again.

Chapter Text

The Piston Peak Air Attack Base didn’t start feeling claustrophobic until the snow got too deep for the satellite dish to work. Now they were not only physically cut off from the rest of the world, but they were also electronically cut off from the rest of the world. The three vehicles trapped in snowbound limbo did their best to make the most of it. They went down to the lodge to access the internet on clear afternoons and watched films from Cabbie’s surprisingly large collection of bootlegged foreign films in the evenings...but a mind-numbing boredom always set in at this time of year and no matter how many times they winters he had gone through it, Maru was never really prepared to face it.

Chief Ranger used sleep to cope with the endless hours of being cooped up. Like many helicopters, Blade seemed to practically go into hibernation during the depths of winter. He slept for hours on end, and could only be coaxed into work using multiple mugs of coffee and warm antifreeze shower. 

Cabbie, on the other tine, seemed to come alive in the depths of the winter chill, which made a lot of sense to the mechanic. C-119’s had been one of the few aircraft capable of exploring the frozen wastelands of the south pole and had been among the first to do so from the air. Compared with that capability, the Park’s chill, even on a bad day, was neglectable. Add the comfortable rhythm of a day in, day out routine that included plenty of time for the plane to engage in his hobbies and catch up with buddies on the radio, and Maru was pretty sure that winter was pretty close to paradise for the old bird.  

For Maru though...this situation was rapidly approaching the slag of Hell. While the little mechanic had experienced a lot of worse situations... think any member of their team going down ...he also had the power to act in those situations. His actions might not be successful, but he could do something, anything, to try to change the tide of disaster. Right now, Maru was stuck not only obeying the whims of the weather, but also the whims of his companions and tug suspected that the reason he felt so trapped was that he didn’t have wings. The two aircraft on the base could theoretically leave any time they pleased, and they could also theoretically choose to leave him behind to stew in the silence of the base...and apparently, he was getting that ‘crazy’ look in his eye, because Cabbie was giving him a concerned look over breakfast. 

“I think we need to get you out of the park for a day.” Cabbie informed Maru between bites of slightly burnt pancakes. “Blade is overdue for a visit to Dodge Ridge and I think you should go with him.” 

Maru glanced over at Blade and wondered if he really wanted to fly in him. He knew that the Chief would perk up a bit once he had drunk the other half of the coffee pot, but he was still looking pretty lethargic. The mechanic almost opened his mouth to protest, but the helicopter didn’t give him a chance. 

“We have a clear patch in the weather, then?” Blade muttered between yawns.

Cabbie gave a bob on his tires. “The National Weather Service is expecting at least three storm-free days and it looks like the density altitude for all of them are going to be excellent. Looks like you could even get away with spending the night off base if Susanna wanted to keep you for dinner.” 

Maru couldn’t help but make a snort of laughter at that particular comment. Everyone on base knew that owners of the Dodge Ridge ski resort would try to convince Blade and Maru to join them for a nice lunch. Maru also knew that if they accepted, Susanna and Duggy would make sure to pull out a few choice vintages from their Napa Valley collection for the group to enjoy. Which meant that by the end of the dinner, Blade would be incapable of getting safely home...even if he had any night flying skills, which of course, the helicopter didn’t. The actual meaning of Cabbie’s statement was clear, he was letting the two vehicles know that they were welcome to have a night off. The old plane would hold down the fort while they were gone.

It took about another hour and a half before the sun started to heat the winter air and Blade was finally awake to make the flight safely. Then the only thing left was for Maru to strap in and let himself be carried north across the snowy landscape. As Blade came in for the final approach, it was clear that the ski resort was fairly busy for a Tuesday. Grinning at the scene in front of them, it was clear to Maru that he and Blade were not the only vehicles that were playing hooky from work. Apparently, the good weather, proximity to San Francisco, and laid back atmosphere of the resort had been too tempting to resist.

Duggy and Susanna were waiting just outside of the lodge’s helipad to greet the two Air Attack members and they barely waited for Blade’s rotors to stop spinning before rolling up to them. 

While the two cars hadn’t been the founders of Dodge Ridge, they had purchased it in the ’70s and took pride in having a family-run establishment that provided a safe skiing experience. Their ski resort would never be as fancy as Tahoe, but it didn’t have to be. What they lacked in glitz they more than made up in warmth. 

“I hope that you two are hungry.” Duggy drawled as he practically pressed his side against his wife. “Because Susanna has been working on a recipe from one of her new mail order cookbooks, and it made a meal big enough for a midsized commuter jet.” 

“Oh, Duggy.” Susanna’s bell-like chuckle range out in the winter’s air. “You just noticed that I put Brussel sprouts in it, and you are hoping to dump them on an unexpected guest.”

“You caught me.” Duggy shrugged his tires and looked at tad bit sheepish; then he motioned for their two guests to follow him. “We better hurry, we wouldn’t want the food to get cold.” 

As expected, lunch was a sumptuous affair for which Susanna had clearly spent the morning preparing. Once neither Maru or Blade could manage another bite, the whole group headed out into the lodge’s lobby so that they could all gab while staring out the large plate glass windows at the ski slope. Duggy and Susanna took delight in filling their two friends in on the winter’s news. When Susanna had to duck out of the conversation to teach a children’s intro to skiing class, Duggy easily pivoted the conversation to more casual topics.

Soaking up the warmth, Maru knew that he was going to have to bring Cabbie home a treat to thank him for arranging this restbet from the normal drudgeries of winter...but that was something to think about later. For now, the mechanic was enjoying being surrounded by the constant hum of activity, sitting in front of the roaring fire with a mug of hot cocoa, and watching Blade argue with Duggy about current Hollywood politics. 

The day was flowing past like the water in a stream, and by midafternoon Maru found himself too relaxed to keep his eyes open. As he drifted off to sleep, the mechanic had to admit that today had truly been a wisp of fresh air breathing life into the dark depths of winter. Because for the first time in weeks, the thought of returning to base didn’t make him feel trapped anymore.

Chapter Text

The universities were off for spring break, which meant that the Piston Peak Air Attack Base had an extra resident...Windlifter. The timing for this was perfect as the Skycrane arrived just as the snow was starting to let go of the park. This meant that the helicopter could be put to work helping to move the logs and debris that had been knocked loose by avalanches and winter landslides. Once that was completed, Skycrane would also help the other departments make badly needed improvements to the park. While most of Windlifter’s efforts were focused on infrastructure projects, his presence freed up enough of Cabbie’s time so that the old plane could participate in a long-held tradition…the Easter Candy Drop.

The history of candy drops went back to Cold War and the Berlin Airlift. While American skytrains had worked tirelessly to bring in desperately needed food and fuel into the starving city, one plane in particular noticed that the city’s children needed more than just the basics. They also needed a little bit of joy and hope. Colonel Hal soon became known as Uncle Wiggly Wings to the city’s children, because he would wiggle his wings to let the kids on the ground know that he was about drop candy bars with little parachutes from his plane. By the time the blockade was ended, the Berlin Candy Bomber had dropped over 23 tons of candy as part of Operations Little Vittles.

The aircraft of the US Air Force had never forgotten the effect that bringing candy to children of Berlin had had, and many warplanes had tried their best to airdrop a little bit of joy from the skies. Cabbie did his part every Easter by preforming two candy drops, for the children of the local national guard unit and the other for the enjoyment of Piston Peaks National Park employee’s families. Preparing for these two drops had taken place during the quiet moments of the winter. Cabbie and Blade would occasionally go on supply runs while Maru and some of the lodge staff systematically attached parachutes to the eggs, candy bars, and small toys. Now that Easter had finally arrived it was now Windlifter’s job to carry the crates of precious cargo to the air attack base as Cabbie and Maru prepared for their run.

The mechanic was already strapped in and the first drops load was already placed inside Cabbie’s hold by the time Windlifter finished with his last load. Which meant the only thing left for the helicopter to do was sit with Blade on the tarmac and wish the cargo plane good luck. The pleasantries took less than a minute and Cabbie closed his hatch and rolled out.

“Let’s go make it rain.” Cabbie chuckled before he kicked his engines into gear and let his props pull him into the sky. Blanking left he disappeared into the clouds to bring joy to children in the neighboring town.

“Well…” Blade drawled. “Now that has been taken care of, I think it may be our civil duty to test a couple of the chocolate eggs to ensure their quality.”

Windlifter looked levelly at his Chief for a moment, then bobbed his approval. “Only if I get to test the Peanut Butter Eggs.”

“You drive a hard bargain.” Blade grinned back at his lieutenant, as he rolled towards the main hanger. “But it is a deal, as long as you don’t mention the half Cadbury Cream Eggs I am going to sneak to Maru.”  

“That would be acceptable.” A slight smile graced the Skycrane’s lips as he followed his boss to enjoy some of the fruits of their labor.

Chapter Text

It was officially mud season at Piston Peaks National Park, which meant it was time for the Smokejumpers to arrive in force. There weren't any new members so Cabbie had split the crew loads, because even though the mountain air was still relatively cool there was no way that Cabbie could carry the Smokejumpers and all of their luggage up to base. 

 As the two senior members of the team Dynamite and Avalanche were brought in the first load so that they could get the smokejumper hanger habitable and start digging through the beginning of the season paperwork. Pinecone, Drip, and Blackout arrived two days later in the middle of inventory. This meant that Blade, Maru, Dynamite, and Avalanche where busy making sure that they had the supplies the needed to properly run the base over the coming year.This also meant that the rest smokejumpers were left pretty much on supervised as they started in on the spring cleaning and painting tasks around the base, while the higher-ups tried to complete a dump truck load of paperwork. This went about as well as one would expect.

“Do you think that we could successfully plant flowers on the top of Dipper’s hanger?” Drip paused from his painting to stare at the flying boat’s hanger.

“Que?” Blackout asked in surprise. 

“You know?” Drip motioned his blade towards the roof. “We have all of this mud, if we got them on top of the hanger roof do you think we could grow some flowers or something?”

“You do know that is a terrible idea.” Pinecone rolled her eyes at her fellow firefighters.

“It might be loco, but it could work.” Blackout replied and when Pinecone shot him a look of utter annoyance he shrugged. “Windlifter could easily transport all the barro that would be needed.”

“I wonder if…” Drip started, a dreamy look starting to develop in his eyes. The other members of his team turned to look at the hanger and just speculated on how they would keep the mud on the roof if they used Windlifter to get it up there. A quiet hush fell over base, which was unnerving enough to be noticed.

“I don’t know what you are thinking about doing, but you will stop planning it immediately!” Cabbie’s voice echoed across base from where he had been napping in his hanger.

Startled, the smokejumpers paused and stared at each other for a few long rotor beats. Then Drip could stop himself from sniggering and his teammates dissolved into laughter a moment later. That particular reaction was all that Dynamite and Avalanche needed to know, and they quickly came rolling out of Blade’s hanger to glare at the rest of the team. 

“Okay, boys, if you have enough time to start coming up with ways to get yourself in trouble I clearly haven’t been working you hard enough.” Dynamite sighed, then clearing her throat she prepared to give orders. “Well you sorry lot, go grab your day backs we are going to go clean up some trails.” 

The gravel munchers grumbled, but they bent their blades to the work at hand. Even though they were out of practice and their treds struggled to provide traction in the gooey mess, professional pride forced them to do their best.  When they got back to base, it was clear that Dynamite had succeeded to tame her team. None of the smokejumpers had enough energy to cause anymore chaos...in fact they were too exhausted to even stay awake in the power washer. 

Chapter Text

Every season had its cues...the little things that marked the march of time. Of these, none amused Maru more than when Blade took over making coffee in the morning. 

Hints that the transition was nearly afoot occurred slowly. Cabbie started sleeping in later as he transitioned from morning avalanche and mudslide patrols to evening supply runs. Blade, on the other tine, started to get up earlier and earlier as he started to patrol the parts of the park that were starting to dry and thus were at risk for possible wildfire. For a few days, the aircraft would awake at nearly the same time, at which point Blade would still differ to Cabbie’s heavily caffeinated brew. But at a certain point, the two aircraft’s sleep schedules would switch and the Chief would take on the mantle of brewer of the morning’s first mug of coffee.

“You better hurry.” Cabbie’s deep chuckle echoed across the park's cliffs. “There will not be anything left in the pot after the smokejumpers get to that and Patch has already volunteered to make the second pot.” 

Maru didn’t need to be told twice, for while he had managed to develop a taste for Cabbie’s burnt and bitter as slag coffee and Blade’s watery brew, Patch’s flavored coffee blends were an abomination that would never touch the mechanic’s cup.

Chapter Text

Even from the ground it was impossible the darkening sky and the towering clouds that were blossoming on the horizon. There was only one type of cloud that billowed to form that distinctive anvil shape...a cloud screamed doom for aircraft and danger for vehicles on the ground.

Still, it was not until the primary speaker on the radio switched from the Chief to Cabbie, that Dynamite got really worried. The Chief always remained the aircraft in command when they were fighting a fire. He would only hand the airwaves over to the old Jump plane if the air space was about to go to slag in a way that required the teams most experienced air boss at the helm. 

Cabbie’s words started pouring out with the practiced ease as he climbed higher into the sky to get the best lay of the land possible. Occasionally his voice would cut out for a few moments as he switched radio frequencies to vector a civilian to a nearby airstrip, gave warning to boats on the lake, or forwarded information to the tower at the lodge.  

“Dynamite.” Cabbie’s voice crackled across her personal radio frequency. “This storm is producing ground wind in excess of 50 miles per hour. Given the intensity of the storm I suggest pulling back to a defensible location. You are currently two clicks north by northwest of Rutty Springs Meadow. The wet ground there should give you an advantage in case of a burn over.”

“Wilco…” Was all that Dynamite was able to get out in reply, before Cabbie’s attention was pulled away to vector a commercial aircraft around the squall of thunderstorms to the south.

“Okay boys.” Dynamite spoke loudly to get her team’s attention and to allow her to speak over the din of the aircraft chatter that was filling the airways. “Time to break off the attack and get to a defensible location, we are about to have this fire up our tail piles.” 

When the other smokejumpers paused from their work and saw the state of the sky, none of them needed to be told twice. Without a word they followed Dynamite's lead through the forest, knowing that they would have to leave this fire to the whims of the storm. 

Chapter Text

August wasn’t called the rooftop of the summer for nothing. The temperatures at Piston Peak National Parks soared as the vegetation dried out. It was an explosive combination that kept every member of Park’s Air Attack Team on the edge of their tires. Add the fact that every single aircraft, even the overpowered Windlifter, was struggling to overcome the effects of density altitude and it was a miracle that usually the only fires that Blade had to focus on putting out were the literal ones. 

If Cabbie was spending more time napping on the tarmac or if Dipper started getting a bit hangry from keeping within flight weight, no one was going to say a word. Everyone on base would choose not to mention when either of the base’s helicopters skipped at least one of the communal meals a day. Everyone knew that making weight was one of the ugly parts of the job, a part that they had no ability to change...which of course made the smokejumpers feel like that needed to be helpful…

“We could have a s’mores competition?” Drip suggested between mouthfuls of the white fluffy confection.

“And that would help the aircraft how?” Pinecone eyed the smaller vehicle with a look of annoyance.

“Sugar always makes everything better.” Drip said with a look of bliss on his face that clearly indicated that he was dreaming about the joys of caramelized marshmallows and half melted chocolate sandwiched between just enough cookie to keep things from getting too messy.

“I THINK THAT THEY WOULD PROBABLY JUST MAKE THEM FEEL BAD, BECAUSE EATING THEM COULD MAKE IT HARDER TO DO THEIR JOB.” Avalanche pointed out, which caused all of the smokejumpers but Drip (who was still dreaming about s'mores) to look guilty. While everyone on base was careful when the temperatures rose and thus the air’s ability to carry weight dropped, but the nature of their work made it nearly impossible for the smokejumpers not to snack. 

“Acerca de Movie Night?” Blackout suggested after a long pause. 

“...CHo…” Drip tried to suggest.

“No.” Dynamite put her tire down. “We are not going to be watching CHoPs. Anyone else have a good movie suggestion?”

There was a long pause, then Avalanche timidly made a suggestion. “IF WE DON’T WATCH ONE WITH THE CHIEF IN IT, CAN WE WATCH ONE WITH CABBIE IN IT INSTEAD?”

“Flight of the Phoenix?” Pinecone asked with a touch of timidness. She was instantly greeted with the grins of her fellow smokejumpers.

“Alright, I think we are all in agreement about this plan.” Dynamite looked all of her people in the eye. “Now let’s work together to make it happen. Pinecone, Drip, and Blackout, I need you to get everything clean. If we are going to properly have an outdoor movie night the outside of the main hangar where we project the screen is going to have to be as clean and white as the driven snow. Avalanche, I need to take on interference on this. Cabbie is going to protest once he finds out which movie is getting shown and it is your job to make sure that his protests are listened to but don’t stop everything in their tracks. While everyone works on their assigned roles, I will secure the DVD and projection equipment. Barring any fire, we have the goal of completing this mission within 48 hours, understood?”

There was a chorus of approvals as the smokejumpers got to work. As predicted the only hiccup to the event was Cabbie. The old plane hemmed and hawed about the movie choice, but still attended and didn’t make a fuss when the smokejumpers insisted on making it an annual event the following year...though Cabbie may have switched out the DVD the second year for one of Blade’s early films, but to the smokejumpers’ delight and the Chief’s chagrin.

Chapter Text

Though summer was still burning bright in the lower elevations, perched high in the mountains, Piston Peaks experienced the tug of autumn. The trees were starting to turn from the green of growth to an explosion of yellows, reds, oranges, and browns. The wildlife began to go into hyperdrive working to gather enough fuel to get them through the long winter months or actively beginning the preparations to start migrating to warmer climates. And while the air during midday still held the warmth of a summer day, the early morning held the chill and frost of the colder weather that was soon to come. At the Piston Peaks Air Attack Base all of these signs pointed in one direction. It was the season for prescribed burns.

The decision to clear the undergrowth around a particularly popular campground was made by the team leaders as the sat and sipped coffee tucked just inside the main hangar door. It was a particularly grey morning and the forecast indicated that they should plan for a proper downpour that evening which would help make sure that all the embers would be properly drowned.

“Alright, people.” Blade turned to stare down the vehicles who were chowing down on breakfast inside the hangar. “Let’s get moving, so we can set a burn this afternoon. Patch, get a TFR in place for the Anchor Lake East Campground.”

“Rodge.” The dispatcher said as she ditched her dishes in the sink and headed out to the tower.

The rest of the day’s work snapped easily into place. Pinecone headed down to the campground to brief the campers and soothe any of the park’s visitor’s fears with her impeccable southern charm, while the rest of the smokejumpers scrapped a line in the forest floor down to mineral soil to provide a proper fireguard. 

When the prep work was done, Chief Ranger and Windlifter arrived at the campground transporting the equipment then jumpers would need to light the prescribed burn, as well as, lunch. The smokejumpers practically inhaled the food, but they couldn’t start their work until after the last piece of the prescribed burn puzzle arrived...Pulaski and Rake.

The 20 minutes it took for the park's structural rig to arrive felt like a painful eternity for little smokejumpers. Then they had to wait for another 45 minutes for Pulaski to properly soak all structures on the edges of the campground as a ‘just in case’ measure. Only once the fire rig was satisfied that his fire prevention work was complete did he roll up and park himself next to his fellow firefighters.

“So...now do we get to let everything burn?” Drip asked with a look of absolute glee.

Blade looked at Dynamite and Pulaski. Both vehicles gave a nod of approval. “Yes, we can set the fire, just make sure you stay either in the fireguard or in the black.”

The smokejumpers were already making a beeline towards their drip torches before the Chief could finish his statement.

Chapter Text

Some of Piston Peak’s Air Attack Teams traditions ebbed and flowed according to subtle shifts in the calendar. Their celebration of the autumn Moon Festival was one of those events that was in constant flux depending on which date it fell on the date that the harvest moon fell on.

In many years it fell in September and it was one of the last celebrations that the whole crew got to participate in before Dipper, Patch, and the Smokejumpers contracts ended on October 1st. When the celebration fell in September Cabbie, Maru, and Blade would take turns organizing the food for that evening's feast. 

When it was Cabbie’s turn, he would always order a spread from his favorite Korean restaurant. He would always make sure there was a steaming pot of Tohrangook, a clear nutty broth made from taro and tendon, to help fill up the smokejumpers before the more expensive delicacies were placed on the table. He also made sure that at the end of the meal there was a large plate of Songpyeon...little halfmoon shaped, rice cakes filled with red beans or honey to give the feast a proper sweet finish. The meal that took place between the first and last course was left up to the restaurant. Due to years of Cabbie’s generous tipping, the spread was always a joy for the senses. 

When it was Maru’s turn, the tug would badger one of his cousins in San Francisco to put together bento boxes filled with dango (little rice dumplings), tempura sweet potatoes, rice balls, and roasted chestnuts. If the weather would allow, Maru would spread blankets out on the base’s apron once it got dark to set up for a proper Otsukimi. The entire team would sit under the star sky eating, laughing, and letting their breath billow in puffs of steam in the chill autumn’s evening air.

When it was Blade’s turn, he would usually just do a Panda Express run. He would order several of the big catering trays of several of the dishes and spread them out on the big-serving table. Everyone on base was asked to be conservative on how much they put on their plate the first time through the buffet so everyone had a chance to snag a little of everything, but all bets were off when it was time for seconds. The helicopter always tried to order more than he thought they needed...but he had yet to be any leftovers from one of his moon festivals. 

Regardless of who was grabbing the food the party would usually last late into the night...a celebration of everything they had done that year and a welcome break from the stresses of preparing base for the long alpine winter.

If the Moon Festival fell in early October, the event had a little bit different meaning. Instead of being the last big hurrah with the full team. It was the first big point of the calendar that was only celebrated by the Base’s permanent residences. As a result, the celebration had a very different feel and a very different purpose.

Unlike the large, September feasts, the three vehicles left on base each played a specific role in preparing for the evening's event. Blade’s role was to procure a Moon Cake, a rich pastry filled with red bean or lotus paste and cured egg yolk. It was a role he took very seriously and he usually ordered a double yoke cake just large enough for the three of them weeks in advance to be delivered by mail.

Maru would spend the entire day of the festival doing last-minute fall cleaning and base winterizing. While many of these tasks had been completed by smokejumpers before they left, there were simply some things that Maru wasn’t going to trust the ground pounders with. Once everything was to the mechanic’s standards he would start pulling out equipment that would be needed for the evening’s festivities. There were the three nested bowls, each one unique to its owner, and the sake set which after years of use Blade had learned to ignore for the evening. Finally, there was the cutting board that would only come out for this festival. With care, Maru would place this year’s Moon Cake on the cutting board, then, satisfied with his work he would head out to the tarmac to wait with Blade for the last piece of the festivities to arrive.

As always, as the sky began to change from blue to the pinks and purples of a deepening sunset, Cabbie would appear on the horizon carrying the evening’s meal. Making a precise approach, he would gingerly break and stop in front of Maru and Blade before popping his hatch. Once his beaver tail was open, the reason for the old plane’s precise flying was evident with the smell of rich broth walfed in the breeze and the stack of different tupperware containers in the hold.

Unlike all of the other Moon Festival feasts, this meal was not prepared by a restaurant. Instead, it was a meal prepared in the home kitchen of a Vietnamese Officer and friend that Cabbie had helped evacuate to the United States in the wake of the Vietnam War. Shortly after they had gained US citizenship, their family had invited Cabbie to share a Moon festival meal with them and the plane had particularly enjoyed the Saigon style pho that had been served. To this day they had insisted on making it for him at least once a year, just like Cabbie still insisted on getting their children and now grandchildren gifts for Christmas.

Maru would unload the containers and hall them inside Cabbie’s hanger with practiced ease. Then the tug would divide the food between the three bowls, with the largest portion going into Cabbie's massive dish and the smallest portion in his own bowl. With each tine full of ingredients the smell in the hanger became more and more irrisabile until the last scoop of fresh herbs was added and everyone could dive into their pho.

The act of consuming the soup had a ritual all of its own. First, there was the deep inhale of steam then a tentative sip to judge the temperature of the broth. This was of course followed by large gulps so large that an outsider would have a hard time seeing how the three vehicles managed to breath between them. Only once each of them was nearly completely full, did they slow to a more leisurely pace of eating and conversation resumed as they chased the last bits of noodle around their bowls. Then the evening always ended with Cabbie and Maru sipping sake to cut the richness of the moon cake while Blade worked on his own can of low grade. 

Tomorrow, everyone would work on cleaning the containers so that Cabbie could return them to their owner, but for now, all three vehicles would sleep content and ready to take on whatever the winter months would throw at them.

Chapter Text

It was an unspoken rule that Chief Blade Ranger was not allowed to go night flying without supervision. The helicopter could cut through the air with skill and accuracy...but only as long as he could see where he was going, as soon as he was in IFR conditions Blade had the navigation skills of a rock. Luckily for Blade, sometimes Mother Nature smiled upon him and created a situation that allowed him to safely patrol the park with minimal supervision even after the sun had departed from the sky.

This delightful alignment of factors was most likely to occur in the Fall when frost covered the naked trees in a dusting of reflective ice crystals. When the moon was full and the night was clear these fragments of ice would catch the light and reflect it back up into space. The effect was magical. The world was so brilliantly lit that the moon was even able to cast shadows. 

During times like these, Blade could not resist taking to the air to patrol his park under the spectacular dome of stars. He would move through the sleeping park following his preferred patrol route. Below him everything but the soft flicker of campfires and the occasional sweep of a pair of headlights was painted an eerie blue by the light of the Moon.

On these quiet night flights, Blade rarely wanted to return back to base. His blades cut the cold autumn air so comfortable and his engines purred with pent up energy that allowed him to effortlessly prowl the park. Everything made it feel like the sky was calling him...which given the fact his radio was crackling to life was partially true.

“Chief, I know you are having fun...but planned to be back to base for dinner 30 minutes ago and I am really starting to get hungry.” Cabbie's voice was steady but it was clear that the old plane was ready to call it a day. 

Blade looked high above him and between the stars he spotted the C-119’s running lights circling above him...making sure he didn’t accidentally get lost and accidentally end up in a neighboring state...again...As much as the helicopter wanted this evening flight to last forever, he knew that his time was up. 

He changed his course to head toward home and then cleared his throat. “Understood. Let Maru know we are inbound so he can reheat dinner for us.” 

“Blade.” There was a touch of amusement in Cabbie's voice that indicated that he was about to have some fun at the helicopter’s expense. 

“Yes, Cabbie?”

“The base is due east of here.”

“And…” Blade tried to hide his annoyance.

“You are headed southwest.”

Blade bit his tongue to prevent himself from swearing under his breath. Then he made a wide turn and turned his nose towards home. This time using Cabbie’s running lights as a star guiding him to his destination.

Chapter Text

Park service staff rarely got major holidays off, but no one was going to complain about Cabbie somehow managing to get Thanksgiving off every year. Between the C-119’s duties as a jump plane in the summer and as an avalanche abatement aircraft in the winter, the only time that he could manage to take a week or two off was in the Fall.  So while all of his fellow rangers buckled down for the first hard holiday of the winter season, a pair of tails could be seen winging themselves out of the park. It was kind of a demoralizing sight because it was a reminder that they were going to spend yet another Thanksgiving making it perfect for other people’s families while they were on vacation while knowing that a quick phone call home was as good as they were going to manage for family who lived states away.

But as rough as watching Cabbie depart, there were few things more joyful than the old plane’s return. For when he returned to the park he would land at the lodge instead of Air Attack Base carrying a very precious cargo.  Vehicles from around the park would gather as Cabbie pulled up to Puluski’s firehouse, ready to unload him as soon as he popped the hatch. Once Cabbie opened his beaver tail, the smells of baked pasty washed over everyone. Soon every folding table that had been set up inside the firehouse was covered with pies. There were pumpkin pie and apple pies, pies covered with whipped cream and pies drizzled with chocolate, pies that were warm out of the oven and ice cream pies fresh out of the freezer. It was a feast that represented the bounty of the season. 

The first slices of pie were cut for the members of staff who were unable to leave their posts. Followed by pie for those who needed to get back to duty quickly. Then it was everyone else’s turn. Interpretive rangers snagged their slices alongside the road crew, lodge staff ate alongside security staff. Even the family members of parked staff who lived on-site joined in to eat and play under the firehouse floodlights. Only when the night grew darker, the air grew colder, and pie was all but gone did the Piston Peaks staff holiday party finally grind to a halt.

Yes, no one ever complained that Cabbie was off every Thanksgiving even though it was a painful reminder of holidays they would not be spending with their own family, but they always celebrated his return because they knew it heralded pie and joyous celebration with the national park family they had chosen to create.

Chapter Text

The stretch of time between Christmas and New Years was always a special type of busy at Piston Peaks National Park. Park staffing was at its low winter which meant they barely had enough coverage to man the park. On top of that they had the flood of winter break vacationers filling every plowed parking space and groomed trail in the region. Everyone had buckled down, squared their tires, and just tried to power through so that they could reach the relative calm of January...but apparently some visitors clearly thought that the park staff didn’t have enough in their trailers and decided to throw a monkey wrench into their work.

The first inkling something was a tire, occurred the day after Christmas when one of the Rangers on night patrol reported that they heard strange popping sounds coming from the back country. The following morning, after a quick search the source of the popping sound was found just off a popular trail when a ranger found the burnt remains of fireworks half buried in the snow. 

At first, everyone was hoping it was a one off event...but when the sound of fireworks going off occurred in another corner of the park the following night, and the two nights after that it was clear that there was a group of visitors ignoring National Park’s ban on fireworks. While the winter weather and snow did lower the risks related to this behavior, it didn’t erase it all together. With how thin the firefighting capabilities in the park currently were, Ranger Jammer decided the best way to deal with the situation was to catch the firework launcher before they became an issue.

A search from the ground would be impossible, so a search from the sky was organized. Windlifter was called in. Blade mapped out locations where the two helicopter could keep an eye on the sky, while Cabbie planned out a grid that would allow him to keep an eye on the park below. 

When the sun dipped in the sky, the three aircraft headed to take on their designated search positions. They started strong, as the night deepened and the temperatures dropped it started to get more difficult to focus on the task on tire.

“How much longer do you think we should stay out here?” Blade voice clearly indicated that both the cold and the late hour were starting to get to him. 

“Sunset was only 45 minutes ago.” Maru pointedly replied. “It isn’t even fully dark yet.”

“We are still in Nautical Twilight.” Windlifter added sagely.

“What Windy said. You need to stay out at least until…” Maru paused as he chose his words. “What are we waiting for, Professor?”

“We should remain until the culprits are found or until Astronomical Twilight has come and passed.”

“How about we leave when I say the mission is over?” Cabbie interrupted from his vantage place circling high above the park. “Preparing to fly the low level grid number 6.”

“Rodger.” Blade scanned the airspace in front of him. “Everything looks clear from my perspective.”

“Everything is clear at Canopy Dome.” Windlifter reported in a moment later.

“Alright.” The sound of Cabbie’s great engines spinning up to full power could be heard through his radio. “Going in.”

The sixth grid of the park was very similar to the fifth. Chatter on the radio quieted as Windlifter and Blade kept their eyes on the sky making sure that an aircraft didn’t accidentally wander into the closed airspace and watched out for flocks of night migrating gliders. This allowed Cabbie to keep his focus on looking for evidence of illegal activity on the ground. 

Cabbie was zigzagging his way up V6 Valley at about 500 feet and had just passed Piston Peak, when things got interesting. Even though Blade couldn’t see where the firework had been launched from, the Chief could clearly see the explosion fire and color as an aerial firework light the sky from his perch on top of La Parrilla. Just like the helicopter could make out when the second aerial firework exploded across Cabbie’s belly.

Blade didn’t bother holding his tongue as he swore over the radio. Moments later he managed to regain his composure. “Maru on standby...Cabbie please report your condition.”

There was an unbearably long silence and Blade honestly wondered if he was about to have to plan a funeral because some idiot had decided to launch fireworks in a National Park. Then the radio crackled to life.

“That smarted.” Cabbie sighed heavily and Blade let go of a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. The old plane clearing his throat. “I am diverting for an emergency landing at the Lodge...and I am pressing charges, and I promise those hooligans are not going to like the fine for that.”

“Believe me, you will not be the only vehicle pressing charges.” Superintendent Jammer voice joined the channel and Blade couldn’t help but feel incredibly embarrassed about his earlier swearing. “The lodge landing strip will be lit up like a Christmas Tree for your arrival, while you are in bound do you happen to have the gps coordinates for where you got hit?”

“Rodger.” Cabbie replied and spat out a series of numbers that Blade tuned out because he was listening to Windlifter making arrangements to pick up Maru and transport him down to the lodge. 

In the end, the firework launchers were smart enough to stop lighting off any other explosives once they had accidently hit an aircraft, but they also didn’t move fast enough to avoid the rangers that descended on their location. Even though Jammer called in the county sheriff to help with the arrests, Blade suspected that this incident was going to cause a sleepless night for many of the park’s staff. Luckily, the Superintendent let Blade’s focus be exactly where it needed to be.

“So how is he?” Blade asked the moment he stuck his nose lodge’s main hanger after finally being rescued from his perch and guided to a proper landing spot by Windlifter.

“He is in great need of a proper cup of coffee.” Cabbie smirked back only to wince a moment later.

“He shouldn’t be drinking coffee, because he would be a lot more comfortable if he just took a nap while I sand out this burn.”

“Maru, I am not going to successfully sleep with you poking things like that.” Cabbie settled a little bit heavier on his tires, much to the mechanic's annoyance. “So, I might as well have my coffee.”

“Fine.” Maru threw up his tines. “And pointed a wrench in Blade’s direction. You can get him one mug of coffee, but the coffee in the mug better be decaf…” He looked Cabbie dead in the eyes. “And it better contain at least two pumps of the most ridiculous flavor syrups that the lodge coffee shop is currently carrying.” 

“You are a cruel, cruel mechanic.” Cabbie stated with mock bitterness, which managed to get a laugh out of the clearly tired mechanic.

Cabbie ended up falling asleep halfway through his coffee and Blade tried to stay up to keep Maru company until the mechanic informed him that he was more of a hindrance than a help. Cabbie was back in flying form by dawn, and was able to fully enjoy a mug of coffee, a proper one this time, with the thank you donuts that Jammer dropped off for their breakfast. 

As Blade, Windlifter, and Cabbie took to the skies there was a special calm that had settled across the park. The period between Christmas and New Year might be hectic, but at least now that the firework launchers were caught there was a bit of hope now that everyone would be able to celebrate a quiet New Year.