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2btheanswertothequestion · 1 year

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(part 3 of November Paramedic; part 2 is here.)

When Gareth mentioned a plan to locate Eddie’s paramedic in shining armor, Eddie assumed it'd be him getting into various accidents all over Indianapolis. It's something the little shit would've found funny, okay! But, Gareth's plan is much less hazardous and slightly more logical: lurk around the university until they spot him. Like a pair of drug dealers trying to tempt the goody-two-shoes protagonist into addiction and sin on an 80s Saturday morning cartoon.

It's not the simplest task since they don't know when Steve might be there. Also, other responsibilities mean they can only spare so many hours loitering. So, thirteen days post-hatching plan and nineteen days post-meeting Steve (not that Eddie's been counting or anything), with nothing to show for their ethically questionable behavior, Eddie is ready to give up. Especially since both of them have a rare simultaneous day off. Usually, those are spent jamming, smoking, playing D&D… literally anything other than this.

"This is fucking stupid," he says, cigarette clenched between his teeth. "We're not gonna run into him."

"Sure we are," Gareth says. He drops his butt among the dozens they've chain-smoked and lights another without meeting Eddie's gaze. "We're getting closer. I can feel it."

"The only thing you're feeling is delusional. It's time to give up."

"Eddie, c'mon-"

"Nope." One last drag and Eddie stomps out his cig. "Fuck this; I'm out."

He stalks toward his van at the far end of the parking lot. Gareth curses before running after him.

"Dude!" he exclaims, jogging to keep up with Eddie's longer strides. "You can't just give up! What about what you said-"

"I was being stupid. What was I even imagining? We orchestrate another meeting and, what, I use my freakish wiles and seduce him? And then we'll live happily ever after…" Eddie shakes his head. "It doesn't work like that. He'd probably turn out to be a douche anyhow."

"No, listen!" Gareth seizes Eddie's arm and yanks him to a stop in the middle of the lot. "You always do this. Self-sabotage and cut things short, even when there's potential."

Eddie scoffs. "You know what else always happens? I end up liking them more than they like me. It's not fun."

"You don't know it'll be like that this time. You have to try."

"No."

Eddie takes a step back. He's done; he's out. Gareth reaches for his wrist to pull him back in. He jerks away, almost losing his footing and stumbling into the burgundy car behind him. Gareth's arms shoot out to help, but Eddie steadies himself before crashing. For a second, silence reigns as they assure everyone's on solid ground. Then Eddie opens his mouth to once and for all-

"Eddie? Gareth?"

Their heads snap to the side, eyes landing on… Max? Looking unusually dressy in high-waisted shorts and a fitted top under an oversized jacket, and her hair in a high ponytail. She's got her skateboard under her arm, a messenger bag with a textbook sticking out, and a confused furrow between her eyebrows.

"What are you doing here?" she asks.

Fuck. They can't tell her the truth – she'll never let him live it down. Fortunately, Gareth realizes this too, because he says:

"Uh, I go to school here? What are you doing here? The math building is way over there."

She rolls her eyes and leans on the burgundy car. It's a shiny BMW M5 – the limited anniversary edition. Jesus fucking Christ, Eddie almost dented that thing! It's worth more than his life. And Max is slouching against it like it's nothing. He could warn her not to scratch it, but she's unlikely to care; she's always been metal that way.

"Waiting for my friends," she says. "We have dinner on Tuesdays."

Eddie's ears ignite. Dinner? With friends? While wearing what's basically a date outfit?

"Ooohhh…" he says, sharing a grin with Gareth. "And do these friends include someone special?"

She shrugs, looking anywhere but at him. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"C'mon, Red! You're killing me! I need to know if he's good enough for you."

His fingers hover over her ponytail, as if to tug at it. She slaps his hand away.

"You're annoying."

He laughs. This terrible day just became infinitely better. He won't rest until he gets what he wants – or until she punches him, which'll probably come first. He's about to tell her so when a voice calls her name. Both turn to look, and…

It's a boy Max's age. He's beaming and waving, quickening his steps toward her. She smiles too, almost shyly, as she waves back. It's the perfect opportunity for teasing, if Eddie's day hadn't just become infinitely better.

His tongue is heavy, his skin is itching, his heart is bruising his ribs from the inside. Sweat is gathering in his pits and it's getting a little hard to breathe. Because walking half a pace behind the boy, carrying a huge duffel with such ease it might actually be stuffed with feathers, is… is…

"Yesssss!" Gareth hisses next to him. He may also be fist-pumping. Eddie isn't looking.

"Hey!" The boy stops in front of Max. "Sorry, practice ran late."

"It's okay," she says, cooler than ice, though her eyes are glittering. "I just got here."

She says something else, or maybe the boy does? It's all background noise, because Steve has caught up. Steve, in jeans and a polo that must've been tailored to his exact measurements because oooooooooohhhh boy. Steve, unshouldering the bag, muscles shifting and straining under his shirt with the movement. Steve, smiling, his golden eyes flying over Eddie.

"Hey! Eddie and Gareth, right?"

Eddie draws a sharp breath. He remembers!

"Y-Yeah!" he squeaks, hands fluttering to either wave or shake hands, ultimately doing neither. "Hi! You're here!"

"I am," Steve says, casual, as if inane conversations with former patients happen on the regular.

(It better not – Eddie doesn't do well in competitive settings.)

Max, keen eyes darting between them, asks, "You know each other?"

"Met at work," Steve says. "Or, I was working and he…"

"Ah." Max taps her temple. "That."

"How do you know them?" the boy asks her.

She points at Eddie. "Neighbor. And that's the guy who dumpster dives outside our apartment building."

Gareth flips her off. Eddie would laugh, but he's busy pretending he doesn't know what Steve looks like shirtless. It's hard (pun slowly growing more relevant) – his gaze keeps dropping to the polo's undone top button. Steve is just as gorgeous out of uniform, and now Eddie's thighs are tingling with want. He could stare at him forever…

Unfortunately, 'forever' is cut short by a woman arriving in a flurry. Wait, no. 'Flurry' implies some sort of graceful whimsy, while this person… she's a hurricane crashing into a house.

"Sorry I'm late! Nielsen wouldn't stop talking and got angry when people started leaving because it's an important lecture so this girl called him out for not keeping time because he goes on all these tangents and he said they're interesting tidbits and she said it's disrespecting our time and-" She pauses for breath. "You don't care, do you?"

Max, Steve, and the boy shake their heads.

"Right. Sorry." The woman turns to Eddie and Gareth. "Hi! I'm Robin. And you are?"

"My neighbor and his friend. Steve treated his concussion," Max rattles off, glaring at them. "You didn't answer my question: why are you here?"

Gareth frowns. "I told you," he says, pointing at the building. "School." He points at himself. "Student."

Max glares harder. "You don't have class on Tuesdays. And Eddie doesn't go here at all."

"I had stuff I needed to drop off."

"Is tagging along a crime? Jesus."

Max doesn't reply, though her glare remains.

Robin hums. "Okay, so this is super-enjoyable, I love just standing around, but I'm starving, so…" She looks at Steve, who nods.

"Yeah, we're going," he says, but neither moves. He glances at Eddie, which makes her glance at Eddie, and then they make a series of eyebrow-movements at each other, ending in a shared smile. Steve asks, "Have you guys eaten yet?"

Eddie shakes his head, pulse racing. Is this going where he thinks it is?

"D'you wanna come with? There's this diner we like…"

Holyshityesitis!

"Yeah!" Fuck, too eager. "I mean, uh, sure, sounds good."

"Cool." Grinning, Steve clicks a remote car key; the burgundy BMW beeps. What the fuck? How high is a paramedic's salary?! "Did you drive here?"

"I, uh…" Eddie falters. Shit, wasn't he supposed to? It's been three weeks and he feels fine – he thought he was in the green!

"Nope! I did!" Gareth says, 'proving' it by hauling his house keys from his pocket and jingling them.

Steve nods. "Should be safe for you to drive again, but the less strain you put on your brain, the better. Even a mild concussion isn't anything to sneeze at."

"Y-Yeah, I've been taking it easy. Basically done nothing. Until now."

Max snorts. Eddie is going to pour coffee through her mail slot.

They decide Eddie and Gareth will follow Steve's car to the diner, since Steve can't fit all of them (the real reason he asked if they drove here, duh). It's good because Eddie gets the chance to panic/gush/collect himself in the privacy of his van. It's bad because Gareth drives, lest their fib be revealed. Gareth spends the ten-minute journey gloating about driving Eddie's beloved girl, interspersed with 'I told you so!'s.

The diner is cozy, all wooden furniture and sepia photographs on the walls. A graying waitress who smells like tobacco directs them to a booth and takes their orders. An awkward silence then falls as they wait for someone to speak.

The boy clears his throat. "My name is Lucas, by the way. I don't think I said." After shaking his hand and introducing themselves, Lucas says to Eddie, "I think Max has mentioned you."

"Oh yeah? I've been dying for her to mention y- Ow!"

Eddie rubs where Max kicked his shin. Her glare is murderous. Lucas is blushing happily, though.

"So, what d'you guys do?" Robin asks.

Right. Time to small-talk like adults. Eddie gets his job as a mechanic out of the way, then gives the word to Gareth, who tells them he's a creative writing major. Robin turns out to be getting a masters in linguistics and Lucas studies biology.

"I don't actually know what I want to do, but biology feels broad enough to give me options, y'know? I can go to med school, or forensics, or, I don't know, paleontology?" he says. Max glows brighter with every word that comes out of his mouth. Cute.

This then segues into talking about their friends, who by the sound of it lead incredibly interesting lives.

"Dustin's at MIT, Mike's at Oxford, Will's in San Francisco…" Lucas says, counting on his fingers.

Max interjects, "El's in Africa building houses and teaching kids English."

"Erica is still at home, finishing high school and drowning in early acceptance letters to, like, every Ivy League there is," Steve says with a look of pure pride.

"Nancy and Jonathan – they're our age – are chasing scoops in Afghanistan… " Robin says.

"... and Argyle is also in California," Lucas finishes.

Eddie whistles. "And here we are, still in Indianapolis."

"Dude, I'm surprised I got this far," Steve says. "Wouldn't've managed without her."

He jerks a thumb in Robin's direction, who preens at the acknowledgment. Robin's cool, Eddie decides. Garrulous but fun and nice… and verrrrrrrrry close to Steve. The kind of close where they're always in each other's space. Where they wordlessly transfer food between their plates. Where Steve unceremoniously wipes a speck of ketchup off Robin's chin after she repeatedly fails to get it. They're comfortable, but not necessarily romantically affectionate. Like they're siblings rather than lovers.

(Dear God, if you are in heaven, let them be siblings.)

Conversation flows. They joke around, tell stories, swap opinions. Robin gets passionate about tonal shifts when stage shows are adapted to film, and Eddie tries not to stare at Steve's mouth as he eats. And then, once their plates are cleaned and they're waiting for dessert, Gareth leans his elbows on the table and fixes Steve with a purposeful look.

"I figured out where I've seen you before."

Eddie stiffens.

Steve blinks. "At campus, right?"

"Thought so, but no. I realized it's actually…" Gareth chuckles. "It's ridiculous, but uh, my mom had this calendar…"

Steve recoils, red flooding his face. Robin, Lucas, and Max shriek in delight, Robin grabbing Steve's arm and shaking it as he hides behind his hands.

"And my mom," Gareth says between bursts of laughter, "she's shameless, all right? She kept it in our kitchen. So during, what was it, November?"

"November," Steve confirms, muffled.

"For 30 days, if I wanted to check the date or make a notation… I saw you."

Tears stream down Robin's face, she's laughing so hard. She and Max have started chanting 'Slut! Slut! Slut!' at the still crimson Steve.

"You don't understand," Lucas says, gesturing for emphasis. "We've been waiting for someone to come up and say 'hey, weren't you…?' for years. Thank you so much!"

"Hey, thank my mom," Gareth says. Eddie's quite stunned he'd throw his own mother under the bus like that. She's a really nice person, too!

"Makes sense," Max says. "Moms love Steve."

"All parents do," Lucas says.

Cackling, Robin pinches Steve's cheek. "Gotta hide your mom and your dad around Steve!"

Steve bats her off, flushed but smiling. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. You got your wish, now shut it."

That only makes the three restart the chant to ridicule him for his harlotry. Steve's indignant squawk that 'it was for charity!' merely has everyone laugh more.

And Eddie? Well. As he sits beholding this man who works as a paramedic and drives a luxury car, who models for charity and allows his friends to mock him for it, who blushes and giggles when they lovingly call him a whore…

All Eddie can think is that he's in fucking trouble.

Afterward, it only makes sense for Eddie to drive Max home. Steve shakes his hand outside the diner, saying it was nice to see him again. Eddie, not knowing how to ask for Steve's contact info without seeming weird, agrees. He waits until the BMW drives off, then tells Gareth to get the fuck out of his seat. Gareth relocates to the backseat, whining since Max already called shotgun.

The initial minutes, they're quiet. Then Max turns to Gareth and says:

"When were you telling me Eddie is your mom?"

"Huh?"

"You said you knew about the calendar because of your mom. But that's not true."

The warmth drains from Eddie's face; his knuckles crack around the steering wheel. Gareth's expression is the epitome of 'oh shit' when he meets Eddie's gaze in the rear-view mirror.

"Yes, it is," Gareth says.

"It's not," Max says.

"It is!"

"It's not! The calendar was for 2021, and in November '21 you were a freshman and had already moved into the dorms! If your mom kept it in her kitchen, you wouldn't have seen it!"

She scowls at Gareth, mouth pinched and eyes flashing, daring him to contradict her.

Gareth swallows thickly. "It… wasn't for 2021."

"Yes, it was."

"How do you know?"

She puts her hands in her lap and lifts her chin, almost primly. Eddie gasps as the penny drops.

Gareth screams, "WHAT!"

"You have it?" Eddie cries. "Why do you have it?"

She scoffs. "You know why – you've seen his pecs."

"I don't- Okay, how're you so sure it's me?"

"Because you spent all of dinner looking like you wanted to crawl inside his mouth and live there." Her nose wrinkles. "At least I hope it was his mouth you want to crawl into-"

She's cut off by Gareth shouting "I can't hear you! Lalalalalalala-"

Eddie crumples in his seat. He's depleted of blood, air, life, everything. Behind, Gareth is grilling Max for information: are Steve and Robin together? Is Steve single? Is he queer?

Max replies: no, yes, and 'that's not for me to tell, moron'.

Gareth nods, satisfied. "That means he is. If he was straight, you'd say so." He slaps Eddie's arm. "You got a shot, man!"

"You… don't know that…" Eddie wheezes.

Max tuts, shaking her head. "You actually want to hit on my chauffeur."

"He prefers the term 'seduce'," Gareth says.

Eddie smacks his face into the steering wheel at the next red light.

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Tag list: @rougenancy, @raisedbylibrarians, @yourebuckingkiddingme, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @emma77645, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @eddielives1986, @stevesbipanic, @the-redthread, @fandemonium-takes-its-toll, @henderdads, @gay-little-bitch, @lordofthepointygerbils, @lenore1232, @imzadidragonfly, @zerokrox-blog, @eddiemunsonswife, @cherrycolas-things, @ediewentmissing, @princess-eddie, @atombombbibunny, @ajamlessbaby, @dogswithforks, @grimmfitzz, @cutiecusp, @cuips-not-cute, @manicallydepressedrobot, @messrs-weasley, @madaboutmunson, @mightbeasleep, @suikatto, @brassreign, @snapshotmaestro, @bea-sayan, @courtjestermunson, @csinnamon-fox, @steveisabicon, @spectrum-spectre, @spinmewriteround, @just-super-fucking-gay, @escapingthereality, @oneweirdcryptid, @deehellcat, @misticageri, @lovelyscot, @olivethenerd16, @linkydinky06, @rynnytintin, @anything-thats-rock-and-roll,

I won't be adding more to the tag list because there are already so many of you. Instead, I'll be tagging the four remaining parts (it'll definitely be seven in total, btw) as #steddie fic: november paramedic. Hopefully, they'll show up in the tags and you'll see them that way.

Thank you for reading 🖤

Part 4

#the entire conversation in the van - and the purpose of max's role - came to me late at night #and i was so excited i could barely sleep afterward #everything fell into place after that #steddie fic: november paramedic #steddie #steddie fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson #steve harrington #gareth stranger things #max mayfield #my writing #ok so about the car:#(first off i want to admit i know nothing about cars)#in the show steve drives a bmw 733i. the car is gorgeous imo. however while luxurious at the time it's not expensive today.#so i looked up modern luxury cars and found the 30 jahre m5 - the limited edition from when bmw m5 celebrated 30yrs in 2014 #only 300 got made and only 30 were sold in the us. they were as you might imagine expensive.#so the story here is that steve got one for his 16th birthday (would've been in 2015 in this fic)#probably from a doting grandparent since i doubt his parents would've given something so expensive to a teen #fun fact: every 30 jahre m5 is colored 'frozen dark silver' (gray. they're fucking gray.)#but since it's NOT steve's car if it's not burgundy and since i've already erased covid's existence... i don't think this change matters

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hebuiltfive · 20 days

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I Know Places: Chapter One (Part One)

In honour of our dear Flyboy’s birthday (and because it completely slipped my mind and I have nothing else prepared) here’s the short and sweet first part of Chapter One of a piece I’ve been working on slowly. No angst (except at the start where he’s recounting the mission). Happy Birthday, Scotty. 💙

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The deep baritone laugh of his brother reverberated through him and continued to echo even after Virgil had stopped chuckling. Scott cherished the sound, allowing himself a few moments to take in his brother’s laughter and appreciate it for all it was worth. He had been so close to losing that sound forever.

They were all accustomed to close calls. Their job demanded that they grow familiar with the Grim Reaper lurking on the sidelines of each and every rescue. They all had their ways of coping with that imagery and, for the most part, they all continued rather normally despite the constant threat. How they managed to do that was anyone’s guess, and they would all probably be incredibly fascinating to any therapist who wanted five boys with baggage, but they never dared to stop and question. All five of them had made peace with it, as had their close family and friends.

Normally, a close call wouldn’t have shaken Scott so much but today’s mission had been different. Today, they’d escaped by the skin of their teeth. Scott wouldn’t have even termed it a “close call” simply because it seemed too close for comfort. He nearly didn’t make it out, and there had been nothing Virgil could have done about it.

They — the people he’d been tasked with rescuing — nearly didn’t make it out, which somehow made things worse.

Scott could have made peace with his demise. He had often said silent prayers to his parents in the tighter spots he had found himself in, anyway. This would have been no different. Of course, he certainly never dreamed of or wished for such an occurrence, but if it meant getting those people to safety, he would always, always chose the lives of others over himself. To save them rather than to be saved. All of his brothers had that mentality and part of him hated that fact. If he had been the only one caught up in that place, if he’d been the only one to have never stepped foot into the turbulent world beyond those reinforced doors again, then maybe Scott wouldn’t have been so panicked.

As it was, he had never felt so scared. On the outside, he had managed to keep himself cool, calm and collected. On the inside, it had been an entirely separate case. With the exception of maybe only Virgil, no-one would have been able to notice the raging that had been silently brewing away deep inside as those seconds had ticked down.

His fists had pounded on that steel door until the vibrations rang through his bones. The rescue wasn’t over until there was no-one left to rescue. Over and over Scott had battled with the unfamiliar feeling of despair, reassuring himself that Virgil would somehow get through and that he just had to keep on breathing. The relief he had felt when that sealed door had finally slid open, revealing the tunnel beyond, was paramount to none.

In the end, it hadn’t mattered who had opened those doors. Scott had only been eternally grateful to the universe coming through for him.

For them.

For her.

Scott turned back to Marion. She was still smiling. He had no doubt in his mind that she was just as relieved as both he and Cameron were to be out of the plant. Of course, he had no way of knowing whether her calm demeanour in those last few minutes was also an act as his had been — shy of asking, and there was no chance he was about to do that so soon after the debacle — but Scott found himself oddly proud of her for not losing her head. In any rescue, one of his biggest worries was always having to work out a solution as well as deal with a panicking rescuee. He was grateful that he hadn’t needed to worry about that with Marion, or with Cameron for that matter. They had both shown that they were resilient and…

Since when did he offer such a detailed report of a rescuee’s behaviour when there was little to actually note? Especially when his designated rescuee wasn’t even the actual rescuee?

“Do I even want to ask?” Marion questioned with a quizzical look.

Scott’s brows furrowed in confusion before realising what she was referring to. He chuckled. “Oh, the popcorn? We were supposed to be having a movie night before we go the call. I’d made myself popcorn and left it on the side when I responded. Virgil stole it, thus he is a thief that owes me more.”

“If Scott’s got any say,” Virgil chimed in over Thunderbird Two’s loudspeakers, “then he’ll be making me fetch him popcorn for the next three movie nights as punishment.”

“Three?” Scott queried with a humorous tone. “I think you mean five.”

Again, Virgil’s laugh echoed, this time around the Shackleton complex. As it had done the first time, the blessed sound warmed Scott’s heart.

“Your cruelty knows no bounds, big brother.” Virgil replied before the click of the loudspeaker being switched off was heard and his laughter ceased.

The area seemed silent without Virgil’s deep tones bouncing off the buildings, and Scott suddenly felt rather awkward. He observed Marion who still stood only a couple of feet away from him. Her helmet was still tucked underneath one of her arms, her side plait slightly dishevelled from the ordeal they’d just escaped from. A couple of stray strands blew in the breeze and Scott told himself that his next words were solely down to them simply having narrowly escaped a horrific death together, not because of anything else.

“Speaking of popcorn and movie nights,—”

He gestured towards Thunderbird One. Her silver hull shone proudly in the dying light of the day, a day that had almost been their last. He had come so close to not seeing her again, not flying her again, but for once in his life that heartache wasn’t the strongest he currently felt. As he had come to terms with the forever unfavourable odds of his job, Scott had come to terms with what that would mean for his ship. The relief of seeing his ‘bird again after narrowly escaping a harrowing rescue was a familiar feeling to the pilot. This other feeling was less familiar.

Scott mentally threw away those thoughts and banished whatever he felt. He was just tired and in need of a long, long sleep. He attempted his best charming smile, no matter how weak it felt, as he continued, “we never did start the movie. How’d you like a ride over? If you’re not busy, of course.”

The last amendment was added on in haste. His avoidance of straight out asking Marion if she wished to travel back to their villa to watch a film with them — with him — was due solely to his attempt to sound casual. It hadn’t worked, and he knew it hadn’t. No matter how hard he had tried to seem indifferent, Scott couldn’t stop that innate feeling of sounding like a fool as the words left his mouth.

Internally, he cringed at himself. Scott was acutely aware of the subtle arch of Marion’s brow as he’d put forward his suggestion.

Her smile had remained, however, and her brown eyes averted away from him, over his shoulder and to Thunderbird One behind him. Marion’s gaze swept over his ship and, for a moment at least, Scott thought she might have agreed to his preposterous idea. There was a twinkle in those assessing eyes that he foolishly read as acceptance, a tiny step towards his ship, towards him that suggested the next words out of her mouth would be an agreement.

The GDF jet a few meters behind Marion roared, and whatever she’d been thinking, whatever she’d been about to say, was abruptly halted. She gently shook her head.

“I have to get back. Cameron and I will have reports to do.”

There was an unfamiliar sinking feeling that Scott felt but refused to acknowledge. He knew his idea was probably going to get shot down but he hadn’t expected to care that much, simply because he didn’t care. It was a nice, friendly gesture and Marion was busy.

Shamefully quickly, Scott nodded along and, in addition, blurted out, “So do we, actually.”

He heard a small snigger over his comms unit.

Virgil.

Though the loudspeakers had been shut off, his brother’s radio link was still very much active, meaning Virgil had just heard every single word of Scott’s embarrassing attempted proposition. Oh, he’d never hear the end of it now.

Scott sighed, eyes lowering to the ground double defeat.

Marion patted his arm. She hadn’t heard Virgil’s snort due to it only having been on their private line, which meant that she probably thought that his sigh was down to her decline and—

Before Scott could explain that he wasn’t as downhearted as she might have believed — a lie, but not a total one, so he could live with it — Marion’s hand lifted to brushed a stray strand of hair that had somehow fallen out of place despite all that extra-hold gel he’d swiped through it that afternoon.

“Ask me again another time when I’m a little less busy, and I might say yes.”

He barely had a beat to process that before Marion was walking away. Scott blinked at her back and continued to watch until she rounded the corner of one of Shackleton’s buildings, out of sight but not out of mind. The GDF jet roared once again a few minutes later as it rose into the night sky, setting off for whatever base Marion and Cameron were to be deposited at.

Only once the chilly night breeze snapped him out of his daydream did Scott return to Thunderbird One. Virgil, as he so often did, had waited for him and together they flew the leg back home to base.

#thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderfam #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go 2015 #five fics #scott tracy #marion van arkle #Scott x Marion #if they have a ship name I am unfamiliar with it at the moment #fic: I know places #happy birthday scott Tracy

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