| the admiral's daughter |

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Zoe Kazansky.

She once was a girl who had the brightest imagination in the world. She was exactly like her mother in that way.

But, Zoe was still more like her father, Tom Kazansky. Better known as Iceman.

Even as a little five year old, she was the perfect picture of her father. She had his mannerisms, and his cocky attitude, and that often got her in fights with her sister. And in trouble with her mother when Zoe decided it would be smart if she spoke back to her.

Her father was often away on missions or deployments, leaving his family behind in the states, but safe.

Zoe still looked up to him in awe.

She glorified her father, he was untouchable.

Iceman was her hero.

A few nights before her sixth birthday, Zoe snuck out of bed, tying a red blanket around her neck, letting it cascade behind her like a superhero cape.

Because that's what she was trying to be.

A hero.

Her father.

She tiptoed down the stairs, careful to not wake up her mother. Zoe slowly opened the sliding door, just enough so she could play in the backyard.

Zoe loved being outside, she'd prefer the winter when it was time for snowball fights, building snowmen and hot cocoa.

But she enjoyed the hot summer nights, like the night tonight, listening to the grasshoppers singing, and the breeze swaying along the tall long grass behind their house.

There, behind the shed, lay a cardboard box, carefully constructed and decorated the day before, and turned into her very own plane.

Zoe would play there for hours, imagining that she was a pilot, soaring through the skies, and cutting through the clouds, just like her daddy.

Her mother had said that if she was extra good, her dad would come home early and bring back gifts from where he had been in the world for her birthday.

She hoped it was true.

But Zoe was never one to stay out of trouble.

After pretending to command her own battalion of fighters, she heard a car coming down the road, crunching the gravel when it parked in their driveway.

She saw the lights peeking out from in front of the house, before turning off, once again dimming the night.

She heard the jangling of keys, opening their house door, and a soft thump as gear was placed on the ground.

It was her father.

She hopped out of her makeshift F-16, and ran across the backyard, smearing dirt on her feet.

But she didn't care, her favorite person in the world was home.

Zoe slid through the door, and saw the man of the hour.

He was still in his flight suit, probably coming straight home from the base instead of drinking like all of his other colleagues.

And right there, over his heart held two patches.

Captain Tom Kazansky
Iceman

"Daddy?" Zoe asked. It had been a couple of months since she saw her father. She looked up at the man that was notably stern and cool under pressure, but his face always melted for her.

Iceman smiled, ignoring that it was past her bedtime, and crouched down.

"Come here Zoe!" He whisper yelled, hoping he wouldn't wake his other girls.

Zoe ran up to him, and tackled him with a hug, squeezing him tight.

"I missed you so much." She said, muffled, because she dug her face into the shoulder of his flight suit.

Zoe loved the smell of jet fuel, which probably wasn't smart for a five year old, but she would grasp onto anything that could get her closer to being a pilot.

"I missed you more." Tom assured his daughter. Whenever he was flying, there was a picture of his three girls taped to the inside of his cockpit. And it would still be there when he retired from flying, and moved to a desk job.

She pulled back with a serious face, ready to interrogate him, "Daddy, did you bring back anything for my birthday?"

Iceman tipped back his head and laughed. "Of course I did. Were you good for you mother?"

Zoe nodded her head excitedly, already imagining what her father had brought this time for her.

She hoped it was a toy plane.

Zoe had gotten occasional postcards from far off places, seashells, and keychains. Little bobbles for her and her sister to remind them of their father when he was away.

Then her eyes furrowed, and her icy blue eyes faltered. "Well, I did get in trouble a few times, but I did my best."

"And that's all you can do," her daddy said. Then he sighed, imagining what his youngest had put his wife through. Zoe had always been a handful, and she only listened to her dad. "How 'bout no more sneaking outside past your bedtime. Deal?"

"Deal." She says a little sadly.

"Okay Z, off to bed." Tom said, turning back to his gear behind him, but before he could, Zoe caught him.

She whispered in his ear, "Only if you tuck me in."

Iceman looked at the time.

12:37.

"Okay." An extra 10 minutes wouldn't hurt.

Tom stands up from his crouching, and picks up his youngest daughter, taking her to bed.

He nodded thoughtfully, as his daughter started babbling in his ear.

"... and when I grow up, I wanna be just like you. I'm gonna fly planes and take down the bad guys." Zoe finished, her eyelids already starting to droop.

"Really?" Iceman says with a yawn.

"Really." She says in an icy tone, even if she is half asleep.

Arriving at her bed, he places her down gently, and puts her blankets over her.

"If you want to be a pilot, a good one, it's going to take a long time. And a lot of effort and discipline and work."

"Is it really work if you love it?" Zoe says, falling asleep.

Iceman stares blankly at his daughter, how was his five-turning-six year old so smart? That definitely didn't come from him.

"Goodnight Zoe." He said, brushing her hair back from her face, then going to his room to see his wife.

Iceman loved his family, and he knew his daughter had a bright future in ahead of her.

But he hoped that Zoe could avoid the mistakes he had made.

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