#irrelief2020

[tsarisfanfiction]

So this has taken me... a while.  Since April, I believe.  A scene from one of my #irrelief offerings to @gumnut-logic​‘s challenge - Riding the Dragon, or more specifically, the part 2 - Return of the Dragon, (written using one of @louthestarspeaker​‘s prompts) sans background because I suck at backgrounds.  Might see if I can throw one in later but for now my hand is cramped as hell and I’m happy with the boys.

(Getting this scene in my head is actually what inspired me to write the part 2, as a fun fact)

The best bit, but also the hardest bit, was designing all their bags, and most of the detail is lost in the full image so I’m gonna shove some close-ups of those under the cut because Scott’s bag in particular I am blaming for my hand cramp.  I’m super proud of it, but heck was it a challenge.

I also have to thank Nutty for the colour palette help, because my knowledge of colour theory is pretty much zilch, and my various friends from across the Pond who replied to my “help what do American teenagers decorate their bags with” with “pins and keychains.  lots of pins and keychains”.  Hence Scott’s bag.

#thunderbirds are go #fanart #thunderbirds fanart #irrelief #irrelief2020 #scott tracy #john tracy #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #alan tracy #louthestarspeaker #thunderbirds are go fanart

[loopstagirl]

A Cup of Comfort

For @tsarinatorment and your hot chocolate prompt. It’s more TOS than TAG, but hopefully it’s okay.

In pain and bored, Virgil gives up trying to sleep. But someone else knows exactly what he needs.

There were no interesting patterns on his ceiling.

No intriguing shadows as the moonlight spilled through the open balcony door.

The breeze wasn't refreshing.

The night wasn't quiet.

Virgil groaned. He scrunched the pillow, trying to force some volume back into it before shoving it behind his head.

It didn't help. He was still uncomfortable. No amount of pillow fluffing was going to make a difference.

He'd been too hot, and the blankets were pushed to the end of the bed in a pile. Of course, now he'd cooled down, he couldn't reach them to pull them back up again. For a few moments, he lay there, eyes closed, counting his breaths as he tried to will himself to relax.

All it did was focus his attention on the reason why he wasn't asleep. The throbbing, itching weight of his left leg. His knee still felt hot – not just to touch – and his ankle ached from where he'd struggled to compensate.

It wasn't even the wrenched knee that was keeping him awake. Brains had given him enough painkillers that it had settled to a soft pulse rather than the hammer-hard pounding it had been earlier in the evening.

No. His current discomfort was the weight of the brace strapped around his leg. It was heavy and restrictive, and made sleeping curled up nigh-on-impossible. Virgil didn't sleep on his back, never had. He curled into the smallest ball he could and buried away from the world and all its problems, even when living on a tropical island. Now, though, he could barely roll over.

He also, it seemed, couldn't sleep. No amount of meditation was going to disguise the fact that he was cold, in pain, and irritable right now. He checked his watch: 2am. Even John wouldn't still be awake for a chat at this time, and Virgil huffed, feeling despondent more than tired.

There was no point lying there grumbling to himself. Pressing his palms against the mattress, he forced himself upright, scooting back until he could lean against the wall. He twisted half his body, then gripped his leg and swung it off the bed. It was a strange lurch to get himself to his feet, and it was only the hand on the wall that stopped him from falling flat on his face. It felt like a victory given his latest streak of bad luck, and Virgil took a breath, gaze fixed with determination on his bedroom door.

He'd had worse than a wrenched knee. He'd seen worse on his brothers and always come up with reasons why they were lucky the damage hadn't been more severe. A Tracy didn't let something like a strained…

Ow.

Pep talks only got so far. Even with the brace, shifting his weight hurt. By the time he reached his bedroom door, he certainly wasn't cold any longer.

When he got to the kitchen, he was breathless, sweating, and in more pain than he wanted to admit. He paused in the doorway, staring into the room, and wondering what exactly he was supposed to do next.

Hobbling across, he perched on one of the bar stools. But the angle was too severe for his knee, and he couldn't elevate it. Huffing, Virgil slid off again, leaning against the wall and looking around for ideas, but nothing came to mind.

Rather than face the trek back to his room, he let the wall take his weight and slipped down to the floor. It took some awkward manoeuvring to lower himself while keeping his leg straight, but he got there.

Resting back, Virgil stared across the kitchen blankly. He didn't know what he'd come down for, but now he was here, it all seemed pointless. He told himself it was better than staring at his ceiling, but had to admit the view hadn't improved that much.

He hadn't been there long when he heard footsteps. Virgil stayed quiet, hoping to pass unnoticed. When the light flicked on, he blinked rapidly, trying to clear his watery eyes.

"Come on." The tone was a mixture of fondness and exasperation.

Virgil was out of sight: he was sitting on the floor, wedged into a corner on the opposite side to either the fridge or the cupboards. There was no reason for anyone to look this way. He somehow wasn't surprised when he looked up to find Scott standing over him, hand outstretched.

Virgil took it. His brother gripped his forearm, steadying him with the other hand as he pulled him upright. Hooking a chair with his foot, Scott spun it around and Virgil lowered himself into it. But like the bar stool, the angle was wrong, and he grimaced, making to rise.

"Wait."

He didn't have time to ask before Scott had pulled over another chair, found a cushion from who-knew-where, and helped Virgil rest his leg on it.

Virgil sagged. He suddenly felt it was two in the morning, and he was in the kitchen rather than bed.

"What're you doing up?" He asked his brother. He watched through half-lidded eyes as Scott moved. For a man completely out of his comfort zone, his movements were assured, soothing, and Virgil relaxed back.

Scott shrugged. "Couldn't sleep," he muttered, opening the fridge.

"Why?"

It wasn't uncommon for previous rescues to play on their minds, and the fact Virgil's leg was in a brace gave away the latest hadn't been a straight forward one.

"I was just restless," Scott said, "couldn't switch off."

He gave Virgil a pointed look, who flushed. It was hardly the first time Scott hadn't been able to sleep, only to find a brother was also awake for one reason or another.

"Freak," Virgil muttered.

Scott ignored the insult. "Do you need more meds?"

Virgil shook his head. "It's not the pain," he said, "it's just…" He trailed off, running a hand through his hair.

"Can't get comfy?"

Virgil grimaced. "I know I'm the first to tell you guys rest is the best thing, but…" His flush deepened as he forced himself to meet his brother's eyes. "I got bored staring at the ceiling. We'd need a bigger island for the number of sheep I tried counting."

Scott's mouth twitched in a quick smile, but he didn't say anything. Instead, Virgil watched, intrigued, as he pulled down a couple of mugs.

It only took a few seconds before Virgil realised what Scott was doing.

"For a man whose main culinary skill is not burning the pizza, are you sure you know what you're doing?"

Scott gave him a scathing look as he heated the milk and started measuring out chocolate powder.

"All those afternoons sitting at the kitchen table with Grandma," he reminisced, "this is the one thing I know how to do. Don't you remember who used to make it for you guys when you got home from school in winter?"

Virgil smiled. He remembered their grandmother bustling around. But it was only now that he recalled Scott in the background, carefully measuring quantities and stirring hot milk while they demanded sprinkles, cream, marshmallows and various combinations of the above. Their grandmother handled the flourishes, but Scott made the drinks.

"Cream and marshmallows, right?" Scott said.

Virgil's smile was fond as he nodded, touched that Scott remembered his preferred mix. He was soon cradling a hot chocolate, swiping his finger through the cream before his brother handed him a spoon.

Scott had gone for the same, minus cream, and they both spent a few moments chasing gooey lumps around their drinks.

"D'you ever miss Kansas?" Virgil said.

Scott's eyes widened as he slurped some of his drink.

"Why?"

Virgil shrugged. "Dunno. Just having this-," he gestured at the mug -, "made me start thinking about it."

Scott sat down opposite him, drawing his knees to his chest. He looked young like that – the same way he'd sat as a boy, even if Virgil was impressed that he could fold his long limbs into the chair and hold the position.

"Sometimes," Scott admitted, surprising his brother. Virgil's eyebrows raised.

"You do?"

Scott nodded. "I'd never go back if that's what you're mean. What we do, who we are… it's in our blood."

Virgil agreed. Their father had done so much before starting International Rescue, and it wasn't only Scott and John who had followed his path. They all longed for something more.

Being out in the field, being active, making a difference… Scott was right: it was in their DNA, and none of them would give it up. Even when a bad rescue meant he couldn't sleep.

"But…" Scott took a deep breath. "I wonder who we could've been."

"Come again?" Virgil didn't follow, and the blank look on his face told his brother as much. Scott shrugged.

"Normal lives, day jobs, marriage, heck, even kids. Don't you ever think about who you'd be if it wasn't for IR?"

"No," Virgil said honestly. "We've got everything I ever dreamed of."

"Everything?" Scott's words were soft, but Virgil knew what he was asking this time. The whole operation had been set up because their father had been broken by the loss of their mother. Moving to the island, being part of a secret organisation, meant none of them had experienced falling in love.

"There's still a chance," Virgil said, "look at Alan."

It was different, and they knew it.

"And your degree? Everything you worked for?"

"Why do you think I chose engineering?" Virgil shrugged. It had been a tough call between that and art, but once his father had announced what he was working on, the decision had been easy.

"Maybe it's different for me because I never got a job," he mused. "You had your career, John his-,"

"No."

Virgil looked at his brother, astonished.

"No?"

"I had a job, not a career. I never would've got promoted."

"Scott-,"

"I would have turned them down. Could you ever imagine me with a desk job? I have to fly. That was why I joined, and how long would it have taken before I got annoyed with those who just sat behind a desk, risking lives?"

"And John?"

Scott's smile was small, but genuine. "For someone who is rarely on Earth," he said softly, "John's a home-boy. The lack of contact with the rest of us would have eventually driven him to some office somewhere where the only way he'd see his beloved stars was through his telescope."

"Gordon had already been discharged," Virgil said, thoughtfully. "If you don't dream about a decorated career, what do you think about?"

Scott shrugged. "You guys being safe."

"Urgh," Virgil pulled a face. "Do you really think I would have been safe fixing monorail lines or something just as boring? I'd be going out of my mind!"

Scott chuckled. "I know," he said. "None of us were ever meant for the quiet life, and heck knows where Gords would've ended up. IR gave him his purpose back."

"It gave us all our purpose."

"Even when things like that happen?" Scott asked, nodding towards his leg.

Virgil scowled – he'd managed not to think about it while they were talking, but drawing attention made him conscious of how much it still hurt.

"Even that," he said. "If that's the only way we get to have conversations like this."

He laughed at the expression on Scott's face.

"You can just tell me if you want to talk, you know," his big brother said. "Skidding down a mountain isn't the best way to get my attention."

Virgil managed a smile. The rockslide had caught him unaware; there had been no warning, and the only hint he'd got was John yelling in his ear that he needed to move. He hadn't made it very far before the debris overtook him. All it had taken was a stray boulder smashing into his leg and he'd gone down.

"Did I say thanks?" he muttered. Scott had been forced to pull him out, get him off the mountain, while Virgil had tried not to pass out.

"You don't have to," Scott said, then held up a hand, "but yes, you did. Numerous times. And in quite creative ways once the morphine had kicked in."

Virgil grinned. "What can I say? I'm a creative kind of guy."

"Like I said: there're other ways."

The two brothers smiled at each other. Virgil finished his drink and glanced at the kitchen door. Scott saw his look.

"Time for bed?" he asked. Virgil sighed.

"Can't I stay here?"

"You know what Grandma would say to that," Scott countered. He took Virgil's empty mug and put it in the sink along with his own before holding out his hand again.

Knowing Scott wasn't going to let him get away with it, Virgil huffed another sigh and once again let his brother draw him upright.

The journey back upstairs was far less effort when there was a big brother to lean on. It didn't take long before Scott had navigated him onto the bed. To his surprise, Virgil yawned even as Scott slipped a pillow under his leg and drew the covers over him.

The drink had warmed him through, comforted him in a way he hadn't realised he'd needed. Talking to Scott had reminded him that however much he wanted to grumble that he was sore and uncomfortable, he'd do it again. This was their life; he wouldn't go back, and he wouldn't change anything.

"Thanks," he murmured. The light dimmed, but Scott paused in the doorway.

"Anytime," he said. "Get some rest, Virg."

Even as Scott pulled his door closed on his way out, Virgil let his eyes shut.

That sounded like the best idea he'd heard all day.

Also available here >>

#@tsarinatorment #irrelief #irrelief2020 #thunderbirds #fanfiction #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #virgil tracy #a cup of comfort #tos #loopstagirl #irrelief2021

[gumnut-logic]

Okay, the world is up shit creek without a paddle. For most of us this means lots of anxiety, confinement and the need for distraction.

I likes distraction, lots of distraction. It is often the only way my hyperactive brain can stay sane. So, this is my proposal...

A fluffy prompt fest.

We want fluff, we want positivity, we want feel good stuff...with maybe a little whump that ends with buckets of fluff. Like buckets. I’m talking Thunderbird Two sized buckets of fluff :D

TO PROMPT:

Reblog this post with a prompt you think you’d like written into some kind of short story. I’m emphasising short here. Many of us writers already have megatomes in progress and answers to these prompts may be quick fics on the side. I’m thinking short and fluffy :D If a writer chooses to turn it all into the next War and Peace, yay, but the aim will be no pressure and short.

The prompt can consist of a character/s, a pairing or a word/s, a particular genre (as long as it has fluff and happy), a photo, a mixture of things or whatever. But keep it short and not too detailed. You can prompt as many times as you like over the prompting period, which is at the moment at least the next three months.

This will generate a list of prompts on this post for writers to choose from. Be aware that your prompt may not be taken up. This is a no pressure zone and most of us writers have very little control over what inspires us and keeps us going, so...

Please do not be offended if your prompt does not get answered. There is no obligation here. Consider your prompt just a suggestion or a possiblity to spark something. We still love you even if we don’t answer your prompt or even if we don’t interpret it the way you wanted. Inspiration is sometimes like a lottery.

Please do not tag a particular writer. This is an obligation free zone. What gets written gets written. Do not have any major expectations.

TO WRITE:

Take any prompt from the list and write.

Do not worry if someone has already answered that prompt. If it inspires you, go for it.

When you’ve finished writing don’t forget to tag the prompter in your post and to add the tags irrelief and irrelief2020 so we can find your fic at a later date.

And then read fic :D

TIMESPAN:

Apparently shit creek will be from three to six months long. I’m going to try and be positive and have a review point for this little exercise at the end of June. But honestly, I’ll just keep an eye on it and try to make it easy to find.

But anyways, in summary:

Reblog and add a prompt.

Grab any prompt and write something.

Tag and share the joy.

You can find a masterlist of stories and prompts that is regularly updated here:

https://nutty.gumnut.net/irrelief/

Don’t forget to check it regularly for new goodies.

I’m sure the Tracy brothers would love to be helping us out in these times. So let’s let them :D

Nutty

(any questions give me a yell, but if you think I know what I’m doing, I’m going to point and laugh :D)

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #irrelief #irrelief2020

[louthestarspeaker]

Seaspray & Stardust

For @gumnut-logic‘s wonderful IR Relief challenge! 

I was inspired by  @scribbles97‘s prompt “John and Gordon and having stuff in common” I wrote a poem followed by a tiny ficlet :)

There is a reason why lost sailors look to the stars, And why the ocean is so visible from space.

The sea will always reflect the sky above it. Though the water is too restless to often see the picture.

The stars will always listen for the turning tide, Waiting for the moment when they're needed.

For when the waves break, The constellations all but shatter.

And when the sky weeps, The ocean rages with seething fury.

The two are far too different to be similar, But not quite so far as to be opposites. Both are dark and lonely in the depths, But both share the same horizons.

`*`

The moon rose to find the two brothers on the rocky shore of the island. Gordon with his sandals off, wading in the tide and skipping stones into the waves. John kneeling on the beach, never minding the feeling of the pebbles under his knees as he refocused his telescope on a new cluster of stars. 

Gordon chattered on and on, talking about nothing and everything- little moments John had missed out on while on his rotation, dug up memories from years ago, jokes funny or ridiculous enough they warranted a retelling.

 And just when Gordon began to doubt if his brother was still listening, John would look away from the stars, a half smile on his lips, and say something absurd enough to make him laugh or profound enough to make him wonder.

Then the wondering turned his thoughts inward, deeper than the chatter on his tongue, and he turned to the person he’d been chattering too. John was already watching him, because he knew when Gordon went silent, it was his turn to say something profound.

“You know I hate space, right?”

John was just able to stop the snort of laughter, but not keep his lips from twitching upward. “Yes, Gords. I know you hate space.”

Gordon smiled at his brother’s reaction, but it faded quickly. “It’s the vacuum thing that gets me. The part where you suffocate in an instant. ‘No one can hear you scream’ and all that jazz.”

Gordon hurled another stone into the sea, not trying for a skip this time, just seeing how far he could throw it and watching it sink. His eyes returned to John’s, and the understanding he found there urged him to go on.

“It’s… it’s scary how much the ocean can seem like space when you’re alone down there, no air left in your tank… But,” Gordon’s smile returned, more thoughtful than before, but no less honest. “But you heard me. And you talked to me. Thank you, John.” 

John stood, wrapping his arms around Gordon in an embrace, grateful for the closeness. Space was too far sometimes. “You know you never have to thank me.”

The talk once again turned to chatter, and there they stayed, skipping stones and watching stars. Two brothers content in good company, one with seaspray on his face, one with stardust in his hair.

#irrelief2020 #irrelief #thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #john tracy #gordon tracy #Lou's Stories #lou writes things

[angelofbenignmalevolence]

Sealed with a Kiss

TITLE: Sealed with a Kiss CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Oneshot AUTHOR: malignedangel/angelofbenignmalevolence PROMPT:  Gordon/Lady Penelope – Pirate/Mermaid AU prompt submitted by @darkestwolfx​ for International Rescue & Relief which is being overseen by @gumnut-logic​. Also @agentfreelancer1​ might enjoy this as well :D

RATING: T

WORD COUNT: 3,573 words Story Notes: This is my first foray into writing fanfiction in awhile so I may be a little rusty. I have used this prompt as a springboard, but I have taken the term “merperson” and applied it quite loosely. And since there was little consensus on the exact terms of the selkie mythology in my research, I have been a little creative with the application of that as well. This is my first foray into writing TAG fanfiction and I’m not entirely sure I didn’t bite off more than I could chew starting with Gordon and Penelope lol. Hopefully this still makes you smile! It turned out a little longer than I expected, so I do apologize for that as well!

~@~

~@~

“Hey Gordon, you coming?”

Gordon stood atop a juncture of three rocks near the ocean shore, his hand on his sandy hair as he pursed his lips in thought. He could have sworn he left it here. He looked over to where the eldest of his brothers stood at the shoreline holding his sleek black coat in his hand. Gordon smiled at him. There was no need to worry him just yet.

“Nah,” Gordon said flippantly. “I’m just going to hang around on the shore for a while. I’ve got a few hours left before I need to be home yet.” Scott’s brow furrowed in the way that it always did when he worried. “Just go. I can handle walking around on the shore by myself. I’m a big boy.” Scott looked at the sun hanging low in the sky. Scott sighed but relented.

“Alright Gordon,” he said. “But you need to be off shore by 10, no excuses, alright?” he said. Gordon waved him off.

“Yeah, yeah, no worries!” Gordon said. “Now stop being a worrywart and go enjoy yourself. You’ve got six hours left in your day of freedom. Don’t spend them worrying about me.” He made a shooing motion which smoothed the frown away from his brother’s features.

“10 o’clock, Gordon,” he said. He fluffed out the coat in his arms and pulled it over himself, stepping into the surf. Gordon watched as the coat enfolded his brother’s form, morphing it into his sleek seal shape. Scott moved a bit more into the surf before looking back at his brother one more time. Gordon laughed and made a shooing motion. Scott dove into the waves and Gordon waited until he was sure his brother had swum off before he let out a deep sigh. Six hours until midnight meant that he had four to find his coat before Scott would go into smother-brother mode.

He began to circle the rocks that he had been standing on, looking for where he had stashed his own seal coat, scratching his head as his search yielded nothing. He frowned. He had buried his coat near the rocks for the express point and purpose of not losing the thing and the strategy had worked literally every other time he had come on shore. He scanned the shoreline. Maybe he had buried it under a different set of rocks? But no…there was the rickety staircase that had been abandoned for years. It had to be here.

He began to widen his circle, his toes digging into the sand in the hopes that he would feel the sleek fur against his toes. The wider his circle got, the more worried he became. What if he couldn’t find it? Worse, what if someone had taken it? By selkie law he’d be bound to that person until he could gain his coat back. His brothers had warned him about it and scolded him when he had been too careless with his seal coat. Scott had always had to be so incredibly careful and for once, just once as his worry mounted, he wished he had been as careful as his brother.

He moved around another large rock outcropping and stopped dead in his tracks. Sitting on the beach was a woman, a human woman. He couldn’t help but notice that she was stunning in the light of the setting sun. The other thing he couldn’t help but notice was that she sat with her arms cradling a seal coat.

His seal coat.

Gordon ducked back behind the rocks for a moment to consider his next strategy. He supposed that it would be too much to ask the universe for the young woman to not know the significance of the coat she held in her arms. He let out a breath. Well, he had really put his foot in it this time. He was not ready to give up the sea or the freedom that it offered him, unlike Virgil who had given up his seal coat to a human woman that he had fallen in love with or John who had given his coat to an old sea dog that had promised to teach him the stars and return the coat when John wanted to return to the sea. The sea was everything to him. Perhaps if he appealed to her emotions…

“You know, I saw you earlier. Hiding behind that rock doesn’t make you any less obvious.”  The voice was full of good breeding and sophistication. He came around the rocks again with an embarrassed laugh, running his hands through his sandy hair once more.

“Yeah, sorry about that…I didn’t mean to disturb you. I was looking for something,” Gordon said. “Actually, I found it, too.” The young woman raised an eyebrow expectantly. Gordon cleared his throat. “The seal coat…it’s…mine.” He hesitated as he answered, wondering if perhaps this was the wrong way of gaining back his seal coat. The young woman frowned and tightened her arms around the coat.

“I’ve heard lots of stories of men who comb the beach looking for seal coats to bring home an unwitting bride,” she said. Gordon laughed, despite the seriousness of the situation on his part.

“Yeah, believe me, my brother Alan had a pretty close call with that,” he said. The young woman frowned.

“Forcing young women into marriages isn’t funny,” she said, as if she knew from experience. “And I’m going to make sure that this seal coat goes back to the young woman it belongs to.” Gordon’s eyes widened as he realized they were talking about Gordon being the one looking for a bride. He threw back his head and laughed.

“Oh no,” he said as his fit of giggles died down. “You misunderstand me. I’m a selkie. My brother too obviously. All of them. I have several.” He felt the words tumbling out in an awkward rush. Even angry, the woman was very pretty, and he couldn’t help his laughter at the ridiculousness of the whole situation. “Let me start over. My name is Gordon and the seal coat you are holding is mine. As in, I use it to take my seal form.” The young woman frowned in thought as she considered him before loosening her grip on the seal coat, her anger dissipating quickly into something more melancholy.

“Well…this is an unexpected turn of events,” she said. Gordon placed his hands on his hips with a slight smile on his face.

“Don’t sound so disappointed,” he said, hoping to lighten her mood. She shook her head and set the seal coat aside, as if she no longer wanted anything to do with it.

“I’m sorry if I sound disappointed,” she said, her sincerity obvious. “I had been hoping that the coat belonged to a seal maiden. I was protecting it so she wouldn’t be forced into marriage with a human if that wasn’t what she wanted. I never intended to keep the coat for myself. I was just…looking for a friend, I suppose.” Gordon frowned slightly and approached, sitting down on the other side of the coat as Penelope adjusted her skirts.

“Well, just because I’m not a seal girl doesn’t mean we still can’t be friends,” he said. She looked over at him.

“No,” she said after several moments where she looked at him, as if trying to figure out his angle. “I suppose it doesn’t.” Gordon smiled.

“Though, you do have me at a slight disadvantage. I’ll have to start calling you the shore maiden if you don’t give me your name,” he said with a wink. The corner of her lips quirked in a smile.

“I’ve been called worse,” she said. “But my name is Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward.” Gordon smiled and reached for the hand nearest him, bringing the back of it to his lips.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Penelope,” he said. Penelope took back her hand and brushed some hair away from her face.

“I have to admit,” she said. “It’s the first time I’ve ever met a selkie in person,” she said. Gordon leaned back on his hands, looking up at the sky above the waves.

“Yeah,” he said. “That doesn’t surprise me. We tend to keep mostly to ourselves. Partially because of the coat thing but also because most humans forget us pretty quickly.” Penelope turned to look at him, intrigued.

“Seems like someone like you would be pretty hard to forget,” she said. Gordon laughed.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, as I’m sure you meant it,” he said, enjoying the blush that rose to her cheeks and thinking that it only made her look prettier. “But yeah…we can’t come on shore very often. It’s part of the whole merfolk life thing.” Penelope frowned.

“That sounds lonely,” she said. Gordon shrugged.

“I mean…it could be worse. I could be one of the finfolk and that would mean I couldn’t come on land at all. That…might suck a little more.” Penelope laughed.

“I can see where that might be a bit more inconvenient for forming friendships,” she said. He nodded.

“Yeah. Besides, seal guys are much cooler than mermen,” he said with a wink, earning another laugh from her. He smiled and let the moment settle before he cleared his throat. “So tell me a little more about yourself.”

“I’m the daughter of Lord Creighton-Ward. And I’m expected to marry well,” she said. Gordon made a face.

“Sounds like an exciting future ahead.” The lack of enthusiasm in his voice was nearly palpable. “If it’s wrong to make a seal girl marry if she’s not in love, it seems to me that a human girl should be given the same…I don’t know…courtesy?”

“One would think,” she said, sliding her feet out of her shoes and letting her toes dip into the sand. Gordon could see the distance in her eyes as she thought ahead to an uncertain future. He knew he had to do something to bring her back from wherever it was she was going in her mind, especially if it had the power to erase the smile from her features.

“What would you want for your future if it was in your hands?” he asked, hoping the suddenness and the personal nature of the question would shock her back to reality. He knew his plan worked when Penelope looked at him, an amused smile lighting up her features.

“You don’t waste any time getting to the point, hmm?” she asked. Gordon shrugged, inwardly celebrating his personal win.

“There’s too little time to waste on small talk, what with the whole ‘can only go on shore so often’ thing,” he said with a grin. “So come on, tell your new friend what you want for your future. I may not be a magic fish, but I know a guy.” He winked at her, causing her to shake her head and look out at the water.

“Hmm…if I could have anything I wanted for my life? I’d like to do something to help those in need. The voices of those less fortunate than I are not often heard. I’d like to be in a position where I would be free to use my voice to help make things better, perhaps be able to actively make the world a better place.” Gordon looked at her. He probably couldn’t say what answer he expected to hear from her if he had been asked, but whatever it was he had expected, it wasn’t that answer. His smile softened into one of admiration. She was such a purely good person. He would consider himself honored to count her among his friends.

“So what’s stopping you?” he asked, breaking the silence that had settled over the both of them with her pronouncement. Penelope shrugged.

“Unfortunately, in this day and age, women’s voices aren’t nearly as loud as men’s voices,” she said. Gordon shrugged.

“So make them listen. If anyone can do it, it’s you. I believe in you. You have the freedom to rewrite your future,” he said. “And I’ll be rooting for you. And if there’s ever anything I can do for you, I’m happy to kelp in any way I can.” He grinned at his own joke and Penelope arched an eyebrow, holding the expression for only a moment before allowing herself to laugh.

“That was a terrible joke, Gordon,” she said. He grinned.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I think that my jokes be the start of a beautiful friendship between the two of us,” he said with a wink.

“I suppose you think they will seal the deal?” she asked, as if resigned that the joke was going to come out one way or the other, and she might as well beat him to the punch. Gordon’s eyes lit up.

“Say, that was pretty quick,” he said. “I think even my brothers might have approved of that. I’m just mad I didn’t get there first.” Penelope smoothed her skirt with a smile.

“Will you tell me about your brothers?” she asked. He nodded and started to regale her with tales of their exploits in the open ocean and some of the more humorous stories. He didn’t notice as the sun set below the horizon and night crept over them, the hour growing later and later.

“And then of course, there’s Alan. He’s the baby of the family. And like I said, he was the one that had a close call with his seal coat. He-” Gordon began, but a grumpy seal cry cut him off, causing both Gordon and Penelope to jump. Perched on a rock was a very annoyed looking black seal. Penelope looked at Gordon.

“One of your brothers, I take it?” Gordon put a hand on the back of his head, his cheeks pinkening. It sure was one of his brothers; a very upset eldest brother who looked like he was about ready to drown Gordon in the surf for forgetting about the time. He waved awkwardly at the seal.

“Oh hey, Scott. That time already?” he asked. The seal vocalized angrily. Gordon laughed and turned back to his new friend. “I suppose this means that my time is up. I’ve got to head back into the water.” He got up and offered a hand to Penelope to help her to her feet. Once both of them were standing, he picked up his seal coat and shook off the sand. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Lady Penelope,” he said. “And I hope to see you again when I come back on shore.” Penelope nodded.

“You’d better. You owe me a story,” she said. She moved closer to him as he batted away the sand from his seal coat. She leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek before she slid on her shoes and started to head up the beach once more. Gordon placed a hand over his cheek and smiled.

“I do indeed,” he muttered to himself. The moment was interrupted as the seal behind him barked at him and he shook his head.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming, Scott. Keep your coat on,” he said, sliding into his seal fur and following his brother back into the surf with one last look up the beach at Penelope’s retreating form.

~@~

Gordon lay on one of the rocks that jut from beneath the ocean outside Tracy cove, sunning himself as he watched the sky. His seal coat was tucked safely beneath him. His thoughts strayed back to Penelope and the few hours they had spent together on the beach only a few weeks ago. He doubted he would ever see the feisty blonde again, but he knew that he could never forget her. She had given him his freedom despite obviously wanting to keep him by her side. And he had almost considered staying with her, but the ocean had a siren’s call all its own. No matter how much Penelope had drawn him towards land with her own siren’s call, they had both known that he would never have been able to drown out the call of the sea.

He let out a deep sigh. Man, sometimes the extended time between their visits to shore sucked hardcore. He already had begun to miss the easy companionship with his human friend. He closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the ocean: the waves lapping against the rocks, the call of the sea birds that flew and dived for their meals, the creaking of a boat as it rocked on the….

Wait a second. Gordon sat bolt upright. Boats never came this close to the cove where he and his brothers had made their home. The sailors that ventured out this far into the ocean called the place Hullshatter Cove for a reason. He looked out over the ocean and sure enough, a boat was making its way in the direction of the cove. He blinked and rubbed his eyes, wondering if he hadn’t gone sea mad, but the boat remained where it was. He got to his feet, gathering up his coat and frowning. He had to keep the boat from coming into the cove somehow.

He pulled his coat over his body, feeling the transformation as he leapt into the water. His seal body cut through the water swiftly and in no time at all, he was at the side of the boat. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was going to do to stop them, but he had to try. He looked up to consider his next move when a lifeboat dropped, the craft hitting the water so close to his head that if his reflex to dive hadn’t been quite so quick, he would have been seeing stars. His head surfaced again as he stared at the small craft. Gordon wasn’t one to look a gift horse, or boat for that matter, in the mouth. He jumped into the lifeboat, letting out a series of barks to warn the sailors of the impending danger.

Underneath him the small boat lurched as it began to be hoisted up on deck. Gordon realized that he may not have thought this plan entirely through, but there was no turning back now. He allowed himself to be hoisted to ship level, where he jumped onto the deck and barked at anyone who came near him, trying desperately to call their attention to the dangers that awaited them as they floated closer to the island.

“Now is that any way to behave?” Gordon froze, his head whipping around. He knew that voice. There stood Penelope. Gone were the skirts and trappings of high society. Instead she wore trousers and a long captain’s coat, and Gordon couldn’t deny that the look somehow suited the young woman more than the skirts ever would. She looked comfortable and happy in a way she hadn’t when last he saw her. “You can close your mouth, Gordon,” she said. He snapped his jaw shut, having been unaware of when it had dropped open. He began to shed his coat, taking human form there on the deck of the ship and looking at her with wide eyes.

“Penelope? But…how…why…?” Gordon wasn’t sure what question he wanted to ask first. Penelope shook her head.

“Why? For you,  of course,” she said. Gordon’s expression went from puzzled to completely bewildered.

“Me?”

“Yes,” she said. “You longed for the freedom of the sea, and I decided that I wanted a taste of that for myself. So I pulled a few strings and got myself a letter of marque to sail the sea. I was hoping I would find you again.” Gordon’s heart melted. She had done all of this…for him?

“Penelope…I…don’t know what to say…” Penelope waved a hand dismissively.

“The only thing that you have to say is that you are going to give me the full story about your brother and his near marriage miss. You said that you couldn’t come on shore again for quite some time and I wasn’t willing to wait that long. So if you couldn’t come on shore, I would come to the sea,” she said. Gordon stood frozen for a moment as he processed her words. Never before in collective selkie memory had a human made the attempt to figure out a loophole  to remain close to a selkie companion on their terms. He laughed, happy tears threatening to make their way to his eyes. He moved forward to her and wrapped her in his arms, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“Thank you, Penelope…thank you so much…this means the world to me…and I promise…I’ll tell you all the stories you want…” he said. She smiled up at him, her arms draping around his waist as well.

“Good,” she said. Neither of them moved for several moments, allowing themselves to just be in each other’s company before she pulled back slightly and smiled up at him, moving her hands to his chest. “Now what say you and I go have a bite to eat and you make good on your promise?” Gordon nodded, willing to follow his feisty little captain anywhere, letting her guide him toward the lower decks. He stooped for only a moment to pick up his seal coat before taking her hand.

“Well you see, Alan’s near brush with marriage all started when…”

#thunderbirds are go #gordon tracy #Lady Penelope #scott tracy #alan tracy #virgil tracy #john tracy #irrelief #irrelief2020 #one of mine #fanfiction #my fanfiction #my aesthetic boards

[tracybirds]

IRRelief Art + Drabble

For @melmac78 ‘s prompt:  Virgil trying to teach a brother how to art. Bonus if it isn’t painting. 

Tagging in @gumnut-logic as our awesome organiser (thank youuuuu)

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Clay? What do you want clay for?"

Any unusual request was reason for suspicion, especially when made by a younger sibling. Too many times trusting Gordon had taught Virgil wariness.

"I have to try out a new art form to finish this module." Alan waved the tablet at him. "We can choose between textiles, printmaking and pottery."

"Why not textiles? I know Brains would show you how to use the sewing machine. It's certainly easier."

Alan's face fell. 

"I was hoping you could help me. You don't have to."

Virgil smiled at Alan and stretched.

"Well then, let's get started."

#virgil tracy #alan tracy #thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #irrelief2020 #broke out the colouring pencils XD #my hand is gonna casually fall off now #sometimes i art

[hedwigstalons]

Pool Toys

Another offering for #irrelief.  This is for @gumnut-logic who wanted something about pool toys.  

xoxoxox

“Grandma is not going to be pleased if you leave that junk all over the deck.  I hope you’re going to clean up that mess when you are done.”

“It’s not junk” Gordon surveyed the bricks, dive sticks, hoops and floats scattered round him, “I’m looking over the bits for my training session.”

John groaned.  “I thought I’d escaped this time.”  

The grin he received in return did nothing to lift his mood. It made sense that they each underwent training in the others’ specialisms but he was about as fond of water training as Gordon was of keeping up his space rating.  Each viewed the habitual environment of the other as a necessary evil.  He quite enjoyed swimming for relaxation, a chance to free himself from some of the effects of gravity, but on duty give him space any day. 

If John had paid better attention to the calendar he would have realised that his current Earthside rotation was likely to include a session with the Squid.  Sometimes that meant a dive in the caldera with the scuba kit, sometimes it meant being taken out into open water in Thunderbird Four and sometimes it was a gruelling session working on the core swimming and diving techniques.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fun.  We’re sticking to the pool so no wetsuits required.  Now go dig out your shorts and slap on the sunscreen, it’s time to get wet.”

John wasn’t quite sure he believed the assertion that it would be fun but it did at least look like they would be having a less than serious session.  He didn’t doubt that Gordon would work him hard though.  You never knew when you might be required to take a dip on a rescue and their resident aquanaut was a firm believer in keeping their swimming skills up to scratch.

Half an hour later all five brothers were gathered pool-side, wondering what fate awaited them.  John wasn’t sure whether it was a good thing or not that this had turned into a group session.  You never could tell with Gordon.  

The pool itself resembled an underwater obstacle course.  Hoops were suspended in the water at different heights tethered between weights and floats to keep them in place while objects littered the pool floor.  The aquanaut had evidently been busy.

If you could count on Gordon for one thing it was that he would only push you as hard as he pushed himself.  Unfortunately for his siblings, when it came to anything water based Gordon would push himself very hard indeed.

With a running jump that turned into a perfectly executed dive the aquanaut proceeded to show them just what was required for the first test.  He slipped through the course of hoops without touching them in one single lung-bursting breath, only resurfacing when he reached the far end of the pool.

He grinned at the assembled ranks in the same way a shark might grin at its prey and any last shred of hope that the session would be easy melted away.  

The brothers lined up to take their turn.  Might as well get it over with.  One by one they made their attempts to navigate the course under the watchful eye of Gordon.  None of them reached the end and more than one ring was knocked along the way but there were some valiant attempts and more than a little rivalry. 

Challenge after challenge was thrown at them, each designed to test a different water skill.  Some required teamwork such as lifting a large object from the bottom of the pool; others like casualty towing allowed Gordon to assess their individual skills.

By the end of the session the brothers were panting and gasping.  Lungs had been tested and lactic acid was building up.  It was with some relief that Gordon announced that all that was left was to clear all the remaining kit out of the pool and put it back in the box.  The poolside was soon littered with the collected equipment and Alan dragged out the crate from its locker to save carting all the pieces back individually.

As the crate was removed some brightly coloured bits of rubber were revealed that had evidently fallen down the back.

“Hey, I forgot we had these” Alan crawled into the back of the locker to pull out the shapes. 

“What have you found, Al?”

“The inflatables we got for Gordon’s pool party the first year we moved here.”

“I thought those were long gone.  Are they still ok?”

“Seem to be.”  He found a valve, brushed the dust off, and gave it an experimental blow.  The shape began to expand and take on the form of a dolphin, albeit a bright purple one.  “Whose was this? Virgil?”

“Nope, that was mine.  Virgil had a penguin” said Gordon, claiming the dolphin and giving it an affectionate pat.  “That was a birthday to remember.  I was so excited that we had our own pool and that I could use it year round.”

Scott grabbed one of the shapes.  “Palm tree was yours wasn’t it John?”  The inflatable was tossed across to the answering nod and John started blowing it up.

“This one was mine” said Alan, claiming the octopus “and I’m sure this last one is a seahorse.”

“Seahorse was mine.  You sure that’s it?”

“Positive”

“So where did the penguin go?  All the others made it back into the cupboard, why not Virg’s?  We could have had a rerun of the races”

The engineer shifted uncomfortably under the gaze of his eldest brother.  He had got rather attached to his inflatable and hadn’t wanted to consign it to the cupboard after the party.

“Virgil?”

“Fernando lives in my room.”

“Fernando” snorted Scott.  “What sort of name is that for a penguin?”

“Surely a better question is why did he name it at all?  I mean, it’s a pool toy?”

“Don’t you listen to the nasty man, Gloria”  Gordon stroked his dolphin.  “Just because he has a silly old tree rather than a nice, sensible animal.  Come on Virg, go dig out Fernando”

Virgil shrugged and headed into the villa to retrieve his inflatable.  How the others had missed that he had a 4 foot penguin living in the corner of his room was beyond him.  It wasn’t exactly an item you could easily hide.  Maybe they had just got blind to the fact it was there, like a piece of furniture you no longer really see because it is so familiar.

As he headed back through the villa, penguin under one arm, he could hear the shrieks long before the pool came back into sight.  It sounded as though the finding of the inflatables had given his brothers their second wind.

Sure enough the races had already begun.  Each brother was valiantly trying to stay atop their float while using a pool noodle as a paddle.  Progress was slow and erratic with a competitor frequently being pitched off their steed or toppling sideways into the water, often in response to a jab from an opposing noodle.  Even John, normally the most reserved of the group, was in the thick of it.

Virgil dragged a couple of loungers into a shady spot, put the penguin on one and stretched himself out on the other.  A spare set of sunglasses was retrieved from the waistband of his shorts.

“There you go Fernando, can’t have you damaging your eyes.” 

After giving the penguin one final affectionate pat he settled down to watch the unfolding drama in the pool, plus of course film if for future blackmail purposes.

#irrelie #irrelief2020 #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #swimming #inflatables

[darkestwolfx]

Afternoon Tea

Wolfie intended to post this last night and she fell asleep. Really sorry, Tsari! This week might be a more successful writing week though as I don’t have as many calls scheduled in, meaning I can stay in my own time zone a bit more. Hooray!

Anyhow, I won’t babble too much, I’ll just jump into the long-awaited and deserved fic (and yes, Tsari, there are still more after this so don’t panic)!

So, more wishes to grant, and here was the next on the list. This is something nice and friendshippy between Ned and John? Bonus points for including Gladys and EOS for @tsarinatorment as part of @gumnut-logic‘s #irrelief2020. And I suppose it kind of covers a bit of Parker babysitting for you as well.

For a reference, imagine this is set after 'A Seed Once Sown'. You don't have to read that to understand this, but basically, John gets Ned a new job as the Tracy Family's gardener, so you're all caught up now. Also, I've only given this the one, quick proof read due to time constraints, so any mistakes are my own, sorry!

Summary: A not so normal family couldn't be expected to have strictly normal friends. So what if they were pot plants and AI's? Scott swears it's all something of a dream, he's overtired as it. But did someone say cake?

Word count: Just under 6000, I think, maybe 5800-ish?

----------

Scott honestly couldn't remember what he was meant to be asking John anymore. Alan and Gordon were planning something, that much he could tell, and they'd needed to know something which Scott's brotherly knowledge didn't extend to. He might be the eldest, but that didn't mean he had a decent understanding of physics. That, was John's area, as he had remembered pointing out, to which Alan and Gordon promptly stated;

"We tried!"

"We can't get a hold of him to ask him."

"So we thought we'd ask you."

Scott remembered trying not to be offended.

"But you knew I wouldn't know that."

"We thought that was likely."

"But asking was worthwhile."

Scott had shaken his head, not really sure how to deal with the troublesome pair when their energy levels were at a full on sugar high, the day off running through their bloodstream like an additional stimulant, and honestly Scott just wanted to rest, have a moment of peace and quiet. As it was, they were heading towards Gordon and Alan finishing each other's sentences by the end of the day whilst they created chaos.

The chaos would be created anyway. There was a sparkle in brown and blue eyes, one that Scott knew all too well-meant trouble – maybe another minor explosion, great. John wouldn't be able to stop them. The plan was clearly laid, but if they wanted to ask John something, Scott figured it was probably worth trying to follow the query through. It might reduce the chances of something exploding, after all.

"What makes you think I'll be able to get hold of him?"

"He always answers you."

"Yeah."

Scott didn't think that was strictly true, but he couldn't be bothered to argue, so he went with it.

And that was how he ended up here. Here being sitting on the sofa in the lounge, listening to Gordon and Alan's master-planning floating in from the sunny poolside, wishing maybe he could be out there napping (or was that dangerous with the terrible two around?) whilst waiting for John to answer.

For the third time.

So, no John didn't always answer him.

Scott was prepared to go out and tell his youngest brothers that, no, he wasn't successful either, stuff it all and go back to bed, but… those same eldest brother instincts were niggling. They'd been given life after the blonde pair told him John hadn't answered, and they'd been nibbling freely at his youth ever since his first call went unanswered.

One more call. He told himself. He would try once more. Then he would tell the troublemakers there was no success, risk of explosion and all, and try to go back to bed. He was tired. He hated days off; that first day of quiet, of nothing, it made him feel far more tired than any stream of rescues did.

It was the stopping, he supposed.

He had time to 'suppose' on the subject whilst he waited for the call to connect.

And waited.

And realised he must be getting even more grey hairs at this rate.

The call didn't connect.

The nibbling turned to biting.

EOS wouldn't. Scott knew that now. He'd spent far too much time seeing her for who she really was, witnessing the lengths she would go to for John (and them), and many hours speaking with her. Prattling, as Virgil would probably say.

EOS wouldn't, but that didn't mean the vast world of Space would be as kind. He got up, giving in, and heading for the desk.

Thunderbird Five was still there. The scans weren't showing any alerts or damage and there wasn't any maintenance on the scheduling list and Brains was still here, wasn't he?

"Hey Scott."

"Nothing, blast."

"Uhh… ok?"

He pulled his head up. Virgil was standing on the opposite side of the lounge, looking very miffed. Probably debating whether he should admit his brother to an institution. Virgil hadn't thought quite that drastically, although he had been deliberating how badly Scott would shout at him if he called Grandma up to look over the eldest.

"I didn't see you there."

"You didn't hear me either, clearly."

"Sorry, what did you say?"

"Hey Scott."

"Right."

"What's taken your attention? Grey Hairs?"

"Hey!"

It was meant to sound more commanding than that, but it was bit half hearted really. The biting was rather violently taking chunks out of his bloodstream. Or it felt like it.

Virgil just nodded.

"Something serious then."

"Yeah. Brains is still here, isn't he?"

"Where else would he be?" Virgil seemed quite confused.

"I can't get hold of John. I thought maybe something had come up?"

"No, Brains is still building his to scale model of that thing from Atlantis."

"Right. So where's John?"

Virgil, laughed.

"Grey hairs indeed."

"What?"

"John's fine. EOS left me a virtual note. Some new answer machine type thing, she and John have tried to install. They're having afternoon tea with the Queen."

"He's what?"

"Yeah, I spoke to him earlier, well to EOS, briefly. John was greeting their guest apparently. But they are both fine, save yourself another grey hair."

With that, Virgil was heading out into the sunshine, risking whatever Gordon and Alan had up their sleeves. The chatter started up, but Scott was only half-listening. He was still mulling over what Virgil had said. John was ok, that was good enough for him to cease worrying – well, sort of, the biting was slowing back down to simple annoying nibbling; present, but not all encompassing anymore.

No, Scott was actually focusing on the part about afternoon tea with the Queen. He could hardly believe that Lady Penelope had managed to get John down to Earth again. The secrecy part, the not being told, that he could believe. Still- hold on.

The metaphor of holding horses went straight through Scott's mind as he pulled his head up like one might tug fiercely on the reins.

Virgil had spoken to EOS. EOS who never left the safe confines of Thunderbird Five unless strictly necessary. Furthermore, Virgil had said John was greeting their guest… oh. The Queen had gone to Thunderbird Five?

Carefully, Scott reached out to pinch the skin of his arm. He would have asked someone else to do it, but never again were his brother's going anywhere near him with pincers poised.

Still, he maybe didn't need to pinch himself quite as hard as he did.

"Ow!"

"You alright Scott?" Virgil called in.

"Yeah! Fine! Stubbed my… toe."

"Found grey hairs more like it." He heard Gordon mumble, and there was probably some agreement from Alan there as well, but he switched his hearing loop for the pair off. He'd had quite enough of that.

Point was though, he wasn't dreaming. Because this could have all been an elaborate dream out of tiredness.

Scott was trying to work out how to get his answers…. Maybe Grandma would know? When suddenly, a call came through.

It was Thunderbird Five. It was John.

"Scott?"

"There you are!"

He tried not to seem too relived. Although the niggling finally died a death.

"Sorry, um- Can you, thanks." There was a strange shuffling and passing of… was that a teacup? Scott momentarily wondered if he'd fallen through a rabbit whole like Alice and made his way into Wonderland. Wasn't that story all about drugs though? Or magic mushrooms or something? Maybe he hadn't then… Maybe he was going mad. "Did you need something?"

"Gordon and Alan wanted something. Nothing desperate. Uh… I can't even remember."

"They're not trying to make improvised explosives again, are they?"

"I honestly didn't ask."

Scott never asked anymore, not after all the trouble with shaken up and exploding bottles of Cola. Grandma had gone berserk, and it was easier to claim innocence if you knew nothing. Also, if it was all a prank, intended for him, he'd almost rather not know what was coming. He just kept an eye on the pair of them, and never let them do the supply run together ever again. Even if that meant owing Virgil a bloody ton for constantly going, dutifully with Grandma.

"Probably unwise."

Scott shrugged.

"I can talk to them, quickly, if they're around?"

"They by the pool. I wouldn't worry, not if you're busy. Virgil… Virgil said something about the Queen?"

"I haven't heard anything. I can check the news if you want? Hold on. No, EOS, Battenburg is the pink and yellow one. Well, Scott?"

"Well…?"

The eldest was still trying to put everything together. Was Virgil playing a practical joke on him? John didn't seem to know anything about the Queen. And had he heard cake mentioned? Maybe he really was losing it.

"There's no reports of anything to do with the Queen. I could ask Lady Penelope if she knows anything?"

"Right, um, are you-

"John-"

"EOS, jam tarts are red."

"What?"

"Sorry Scott, you were saying?"

Scott honestly didn't know what he was trying to say right about now.

And of course, that moment of his great confusion was when his brothers reappeared, Virgil shouting at Gordon that once his new tin of paint arrived, the fish would be doing naught but fixing Thunderbird Two.

Scott realised he'd obviously missed something there too.

"Oh look it's John."

"Is that tea?"

"John's having tea with the Queen." Virgil reminded.

"Oh, really?"

"And we weren't invited."

Scott didn't notice that John too had frowned here, about to say something before he was beaten to it.

"He's not having tea with the Queen!"

"Um… okay?" Virgil began, once again a little unsure. John was blinking in confusion, looking back to EOS as though she held the answers, and if the AI could have shrugged, she would have. "Are you doing okay, Scott?"

"I'm so confused!"

"Right," John began, clearing his throat, "Let me try and clear the problem here."

Scott was more than pleased to let him. That is, after all, what his brother did best.

"Go for it. Who the hell are you having tea with?"

---------

Ned was experienced in many things. He'd worked in space; under the sea; with one of the biggest defense organisations known to the world and with a selection of important vaults. He'd faced death at the tendrils of the sun; at the ends of the perilous deep ocean's grip; at the hands of an irate Colonel; some Mechanical guy; and a poisonous gas.

He was experienced in many things, and Gladys had been by his side for them all, but he was only truly experienced in one thing.

Gardening.

Well, maybe two: he was pretty good at making tea.

Oh, make it three: he was a very good baker, if he didn't say so himself.

Thanks to those Tracy boys, Ned had realised where he belonged. He always should have stuck with gardening. Gladys liked gardening too.

His business was flying by now. He had quite the clientele on his list and brilliant references from International Rescue to get his foot in any door. It was all rather surprising, how all of this had come out of one offer to become a gardener to a family in need.

It had been a while since he'd seen any of the Tracy boys, but today was different.

Space looked different when you weren't going up there to work, or with limited interest. He was keenly awaiting sight of the one Thunderbird he'd yet to properly see.

He'd spent a lot of time baking and he hoped he'd made enough. He had four hold-all's full, but he'd seen the appetite on that family.

Although, then again, he was only meeting one man and a machine.

Speaking of, the space station swung into his view, looking like it belonged in the vast floatiness.

"Here we are, Gladys! Thunderbird Five!"

And he'd been waiting a very long time for this.

---------

John had been a little more than surprised when Ned asked if he could come to Thunderbird Five. They'd had the date on the calendar for a while now. Ned may have his own business, but he still maintained the Tracy Island gardens, and John had been in contact with the man ever since he left the safe haven of the island. Ned had kept himself miraculously out of trouble since, actually.

So no, John wasn't surprised by their meeting, but definitely by the choice of location. He'd assumed Ned wouldn't want to step foot in space again after the asteroid mine and the iridium vault. But, Ned wanted to see Thunderbird Five, and (maybe most surprisingly of all) EOS, again. Apparently, Gladys missed having a friend.

John had thought that a little silly at first. Because a non-sentient pot plant couldn't possibly miss what it didn't have, but then EOS had made a gleeful point about having missed her potty pink companion and John honestly wondered if it was possible for plants to have sentience. They did have life, after all. Ned certainly seemed to believe there was more to them, what with this great love for all things garden.

He'd agreed. Because, after all, it did save him from ending up at some coffee shop of choice with gravity down on Earth. He much preferred staying here anyhow.

He'd had EOS leave a message for his brothers, so they knew he was there, but not readily available for any great scheme that was being concocted in the absence of work. They'd been working on a new program recently, so that people could leave International Rescue messages, in case of busy times, or if they ever needed to go 'out of office' again so to speak. John was sure it was fine, so he'd left the job of leaving the first ever message with EOS, in the hope that the holo-communication system would display it.

And if not, Virgil would know he was alive. They'd been chatting for a bit whilst Virgil had him place an order for some new paint for Thunderbird Two. Alan or Gordon – John didn't know who and he didn't want to know – had scratched Thunderbird Two on the last outing. Again.

And so the day had come, and Ned arrived. John had offered him to come via Tracy Island and the Space Elevator, but Ned had proclaimed he wanted to surprise his brothers, and besides, had already booked himself and Gladys onto a nice little connecting flight via the newly rebuilt Space Hub One. John had merely smiled and let the man go about his odd ways, although he had asked that Ned say hello to a Chief Controller Conrad for him. He'd been more than happy to pick Ned up from the Space Hub, but Conrad had sent someone to him instead.

So he and EOS hadn't moved a muscle in waiting for their guest until EOS registered that it was time to open the airlock.

John had expected Ned and Gladys. He hadn't expected the boxes.

"Hello!"

"Ned. Nice to see you again. And Gladys."

"It's very nice to be here. Gladys is very excited."

"Yes, well, what's all this?"

"We're having afternoon tea."

"Yes, but-"

"Well, I took to presuming you might not keep tea on a space station."

"Um, no I don't as it happens."

"Good! Because I've brought my best china. Here you go."

And before John really knew what was going on, he was carrying two boxes whilst Ned carried the last and Gladys, making his way into Thunderbird Five by following EOS along her track. He was commenting on everything, saving nothing for later, musing over why it was all so white, and whether he needed it painted because Ned could do painting (apparently), and complimenting the nice little colours on the windows.

John didn't even bother to remind him they weren't really windows or correct him on any amount of stuff. The man was harmless and simple. Everything someone from International Rescue, like himself, needed the odd dose of.

They'd chattered aimlessly whilst Ned brewed tea and set multiple sweet treats onto plates. EOS was eyeing them all, jealously, not really even knowing what they were or what they tasted like, but John did. And he could see multiple traditional favourites. And he liked what he saw. EOS was googling them. Again. Honestly, he'd told her google was rubbish. It would only be a matter of time before something came out of that.

But when the tea was brewed to Ned's satisfaction, they sat themselves – as best as you can in space – with their pristine china teacups, all white with pink edging. They were obviously kept for best, just as Ned had said.

EOS was hovering by his shoulder, and Ned has rested Gladys by his side, with multiple plates surrounding the pot. If John was anyone else, besides John Tracy son of Jeff Tracy and member of International Rescue, he honestly would have been baffled at the sight of two men, an AI and a plant pot, sharing tea with cake and biscuits. Oh, not forgetting the whole in space part.

The picture would have made quite the post card.

Lady Penelope would have loved it. As proof he was socialising.

"So how's business, Ned?"

"Oh no complaints here. I do a good trade in Petunias."

"Really?"

"Oh yes, fly off the imaginary shelves they do! Because I keep them in the ground, get it?"

"Yes, I got that."

"Course you did. You're the smart one. That's what Gladys and I think."

"That's very kind of you."

"John?" EOS butted in, well sort of. It was an open conversation, and Ned had come to see her just as much as he'd come to see him, John reminded himself. He'd even gone so far as to offer her a biscuit. John had resisted the urge to face palm. It wasn't polite afternoon tea manners, he remembered. Besides, EOS had laughed, clearly finding it quite entertaining before asking Ned for a description of what said biscuit tasted like – so she could learn. Which had then led them to a rather interesting commentary on the flavours of different biscuits, Ned describing to EOS precisely why Highland Shortbread was different to Shortbread Snaps. John munched thoughtfully on a piece of each, realising he'd never noticed the distinct sugary difference before. Or rather, if he ever had known it, he'd forgotten all about it.

That was exactly what he meant: about the grandeur of International Rescue overpowering the littlest of things. Ned was a reminder.

"Yes EOS?"

"Can we have a garden?"

"I don't know if it would last, EOS."

"Oh… but it would be lovely to have bright plants around us!"

John could actually kind of imagine it. And he wasn't sure if was a good idea or not.

"I suppose, but-"

"Oh, it wouldn't be any trouble to do!"

"I'm not a gardener though, Ned."

And even if he was, he didn't know if he could achieve the growing and successful life of plants in space.

"I can do it! Bring some hardy plants up, find a place for them. We could do that, couldn't we, Gladys?"

A moment of silence whilst they waited dutifully the amount of time it would take for the plant to give an imaginary 'yes'.

It was the only thing John still wasn't quite used to.

"Well, I suppose we could always try it."

It was more to placate his company than because he thought it was a good idea. Only time would tell. And at least he could say he'd tried.

"Hooray!" EOS was definitely like a child still. "I wonder if they'll grow as big as the ones I saw on Earth?"

"They were growth serum induced EOS."

And that he was definitely not heaving up here.

"And I seem to remember having a fever."

John was honesty trying to discount that entire plant mad day from his memory banks still.

"Oh, and I've been meaning to say- Jam tart?"

"Thank you."

"-Thanks for letting me do all the gardening. On the Island."

"Oh, no thank you, Ned! I think Grandma was about to drive us all stir crazy. Either that, or Gordon might have tried to use the lawn mower again."

"Oh?" Ned asked around a mouthful of jam and pastry. "Not the Squid's thing?"

"He nearly cut his fingers off the last time."

"How'd he nearly do that? Any decent lawn mower has a cut-off switch." Hmm, of course. Gardening was Ned's comfort zone, you could hear that, just as space and communications were his.

"And any decent person using a lawn mower doesn't usually try running with it to get it done sooner."

"Ah, rushes, I see. I thought that was more the Hot-Shot Kid?"

"No. Alan's actually tempered. Scott rushes."

"That's your big brother?" Ned had spent enough time around them all to know them, but it had been a while, and (as John had learnt) Ned tended to go by his nicknames for them, as opposed to their given names.

"The one and only."

"The one I threw Iridium at?"

"Yeah… maybe don't bring that up. Scott's still a little bitter."

"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean it."

"Oh, no. He knows that, Ned. It's not about the fact you threw it at him- well, sort of, more the fact the have better aim that him."

"Oh! It's nice to know I can do something."

"Speaking of, when could you next visit the Island? Grandma's been on about some kind of trellis? And Virgil is really interested in Topiary. He's trying to keep that a secret, but umm... he still forgets EOS can still read their search history."

'Forget' might be exaggeration of the truth. Gordon had found out after EOS had told John something she'd found without actually telling him how she knew. Alright, you could argue that John should have asked, but he hadn't. When he'd then mentioned it, Gordon had brightly put two and two together. John had promised to make EOS stop. But she didn't and John didn't actually mind. It had given him a great idea for what to get Alan for his 21st.

"I am very good at that now, John. Undetectable."

Ned chuckled. "Is there anything she isn't good at?"

"Probably not."

"I have multiple functions. I am a rescue assistant, a de-bugger, a computer hacker-"

"Ok, EOS, that's probably enough."

"Oi, you plotting to take over the world or something?"

"If I was Ned, I'd let you know. We'd need a few more flowers to brighten everything up out there."

"Oh, we could do that." Ned actually sounded quite excited at the prospect of being part of a world domination plan. "Couldn't we Gladys?"

Another imaginary 'yes' pause. Well, that time John actually thought he heard something. He briefly shook his head at EOS who gave a little flicker of mischievous purple. Great. She was working on a voice program for a pot plant. The world didn't need him gaining an army of talking plants. And he probably shouldn't think of that. EOS had a strange way now of working out what he was thinking.

"Biscuit?"

Ned offered another plate his way.

As if John would say no. For once, this was good homemade stuff, nothing like what Grandma conjured. It was a shame their Granddad's grand cooking abilities never rubbed off – and that the man was a little too shy to tell his wife she couldn't bloody cook.

This, was actually quite a good way to spend an afternoon. It was like having a butler. A little like Parker. Hmm. John loved his own space, but maybe that wasn't too bad an idea. And EOS would have Gladys for company. Gladys who she could give voice too. Yes, maybe that was an idea worth entertaining. He'd make sure to put it on their discussion list for later.

After a bit of looking at the calendar – which for them of course, could mean nothing in a second's notice – plans had been made, back-up plans had been made, and a final resort back-up was steadily waiting in the wings. Just in case the world decided to fall into utter chaos on all the prior days. John was nothing if not prepared for most – if not all – scenarios.

And with all this sorted, they moved on their discussion.

"So what's been happening with International Rescue whilst I've been away doing me worldwide gardening?"

"We've had a pretty run of the mill time of it. Minor volcano incident, hurricane, little rockfall - did more damage to property than people. Oh, we did go to The Mechanic's new Zero-X2 launch."

"Oh the scary bad-turned-good guy that took me into space in the vault?"

"Yes."

Ned nodded, like that whole trip had been washed through the crystal blue waters under the bridges of forgiveness.

"How was it?"

"Absolute success. Brains was ranting for days."

"Good that, isn't it, Gladys?"

It was at this point that Ned lifted Gladys from her comfy place of residence to take hold of her once more.

John couldn't comprehend how he hadn't noticed it; well of course he could, there had been EOS, and Ned, and Gladys, and cups of tea and Battenbergs, with biscuits and jam tarts – all homemade – and it had been a little like the days they'd spent at Lady Penelope's as children under Parker's supervision. Parker had claimed to not be very good with children and to have absolutely no experience whatsoever. John smiled wryly at that. Yeah right. Give children sweet treats and they will bend to your instructions. Not to mention that all the while they sat on the comfy sofas - munching and trying not to leave crumbs – Parker would be demonstrating his excellent array of 'magic' tricks. It was only when Gordon asked for a go that Scott had realised what Parker had actually been meaning to teach them.

Anyhow, Gladys had been resting on a communication switch. Ned noticed this too as he clutched the pot close to him. He stil expected to be shouted at, like his days back in the GDF, or admonished by his employers, like his days back in Hydrexler, or left stranded and alone, like his days back asteroid mining. He was human. John could recognise. If he was completely honest, that was more his reasoning for proposing to Colonel Casey an offer he knew Ned would never refuse; that, more than the fact getting a gardener would save them and appease Grandma.

Of all the people they'd rescued, Ned had grown on him. No puns intended.

"Oh… Sorry?"

"It's fine, Ned. If it was anything serious Thunderbird Three would be outside."

John may have turned his back, but he could tell Ned was looking desperately around outside for any sight of the Thunderbirds. Ned had had a rare opportunity to see them all now, and yet still gazed upon like he'd never seen sight of them.

John could understand that.

Scott appeared before him, looking like he was trying to hide his great relief.

John hid a smile.

And tried to appease his brother's worry at the same time as Ned offering him another cup of absolutely fantastic tea.

Obscuring a teacup on holo-communications wasn't easy.

But he was going to damn well try his best.

He knew what would happen if his brother's caught sight of edible food.

---------

"I did leave a message."

"And I got it." Explained Virgil, sitting down comfortably on the sofa. "It said you were having afternoon tea with the queen."

"Umm… no." John replied. "That's not what is should have said. EOS?"

"I sent what you told me too, John."

"I never the Queen, EOS."

"But Gladys likes to think of herself as a Queen of the Geranium's."

"Too right she is!" Ned exclaimed, merrily, still holding Gladys in his grasp.

For a moment, there was absolute silence from the island.

Scott no longer knew whether he was dreaming, in the middle of a nightmare, or maybe I he had been slipped the odd set of drugs.

There, sharing the holo-screen with John, was Ned Tedford and Gladys.

"You're having afternoon tea with Ned and Gladys?" Gordon exclaimed.

"Yeah." John answered, like it was a normality. "Ned wanted to see Thunderbird Five."

"I really like it. Especially the floaty floatiness."

"John, I still cannot find that word in the dictionary."

"It doesn't matter EOS."

Alan was just a mess of chuckles. In fact, Scott was surprised there was anything left of him save the sound.

And of course, it was – as things usually were for the Tracy's – at this moment that Ned raised a plate full of neatly sliced cake. John would have liked to have finished the explanations first, and kept the whole Ned being here thing a secret. Especially as they'd been planning a great surprise for Virgil's birthday. John still vowed to make up for the one which the middle child essentially 'missed' which he still felt a little at fault for. This would top that ruined surprise in seconds. As it was, John had learnt that Ned was good at keeping secrets, so there wouldn't be any worries there. The problem was how to deal with now.

Now being the very obvious sight of cake.

The harm was already done, so John reached out a took a piece.

"Thank you."

"Oh, you're welcome."

"What?" Alan bellowed, narrowly avoiding taking Scott's ears clean off, "You have cake?"

"Homemade and all." Ned added, somehow managing to balance a numerous amount of plates in his grasp, with one balancing on Gladys as well. EOS' little lights brightened, and John sighed at her forming even more grand ideas. Gladys was not proving the greatest of influences on his AI, and John felt an understanding for the struggles of their father when the boys went out into the world, forming their own friendships.

Eyes were glimmering back at them.

"You-"

"Have-"

"Cake!"

John wasn't sure what happened first really. In seconds, Virgil, Gordon and Alan were on their feet.

"Hello Ned!" Gordon waved.

"We're on our way up."

Alan was rushing around like a mad thing.

"To Thunderbird Three!"

"You mean to the cake!" Gordon insisted, following the youngest at a speed that rivalled a sports car.

"Scott, are you coming with?"

Virgil was waiting, looking at the brunette expectantly.

Scott wanted to say no. He wanted to go bad to bed and sleep, because clearly he needed it. His head still wasn't entirely wrapped around the fact that EOS could apparently talk to Gladys and that the pot plant liked to be thought of as a Queen, nor why Ned was waving at them from Thunderbird Five whilst pouring cups of tea and sharing biscuits with John like he'd lived up there for years now. He was entirely lost as to where the real Queen fitted in, he'd honestly forgotten his true reason for even trying to call John – which got him involved in all this madness in the first place, and everyone rushing around and shouting was doing nothing for his head.

But there was cake. Homemade cake, that – most importantly – didn't look like it would poison them.

John couldn't really eat it all. They were only looking out for his health by going up there to help finish it, Scott supposed.

Some second wind had him off his feet in seconds.

"See you in a bit, John."

Virgil gave a little cheer and some kind of funny-step-dance that wasn't really a dance, which John desperately hoped EOS had been recording. She recorded everything on the Island now. Even Gordon's singing the in the shower. John had questioned why, slightly unsure as to whether it was even a good idea to be doing so, only for EOS to play him a section – audio only, thank whatever God there was. Gordon was surprisingly good. No, not good actually. Pretty good. Now one could hold a tune quite like Virgil could, but John was surprised to find that Gordon had a talent he wasn't boasting about. He'd asked – slightly more wisely – why EOS was even keeping that. Her pointed answer was exactly what he should have expected. Blackmail material. John had wondered then if he should have let EOS get her claws on the World Wide Web. She edited Wikipedia enough as it was.

Still, as his brothers left his sights, heading to warm up Thunderbird Three, John waved a hand to EOS who closed the link. He rolled his eyes as he turned back to Ned. It wouldn't be long before his brothers joined them, shattering the peace and quiet of Thunderbird Five, stomping rudely over proper afternoon tea. John sometimes wondered how Lady Penelope put up with Gordon making all the mess he did when he stayed in London. Parker. That one was obvious. The man spent more time running around Gordon to keep everything in order than he did shadowing Lady Penelope for her own safety.

Their quiet afternoon was dead in the water. A very new one was about to begin.

"Sorry Ned. It will get noisy now, and busy, and… crazy."

He wasn't going to hold back. Ned knew them well enough after all.

"Oh that's alright. Gladys and I wondered if we might be seeing everyone, so I've bought plenty of everything. A gardener is always prepared!"

Far more prepared it seemed than the man had been in any other job.

John glanced over towards the two unopened boxes. If they contained anything like the feat that was currently placed before them, they would be absolutely fine. Ned was finally right where he was meant to be.

And John supposed he should have asked why Ned had bought a full set of teacups.

Always prepared, those gardening types.

#thunderbirds are go #TAG #irrelief2020 #Darkestwolfx #Tsarinatorment #gumnut-logic #support your fanfiction authors #writers on tumblr #Scott tracy #john tracy #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #alan tracy #EOS #Gladys #Ned Tedford #Prompts #Thunderbirds2015 #Tracy Island #A Seed Once Sown #International Rescue #Afternoon Tea #Friendshippy

[scribbles97]

Trapped

IRRelief Fic filling prompts from @hodgehegposts @eirabach and @darkestwolfx

Prompts being 

Pen and Ink + getting your own back 

Any characters – trapped in a lift/elevator

One of the brothers being ticklish

So, it hadn’t been how he had planned to start their romantic weekend away but he was at least grateful that he was there with Penelope. 

Even if it was stuck in an elevator half way up to their hotel suite. 

The irony was that it was his brothers that had shut off the power, an electrical fire downtown of the hotel requiring their part of the grid to be shut off for the time being. Not that he’d been keeping tabs or anything. 

John had told them he wasn’t sure how long it would take, fire crews were busy helping with the blaze, priority on those in immediate danger over the pair of them having a slight delay in the start of their weekend activities. Gordon hadn’t been able to help himself as he’d thrown a sly smile towards Penny, a raised eyebrow had seemed to get the message across as she had shook her head and given him a firm negative response. 

Yeah, he supposed it wouldn’t go down too well if someone turned up to rescue them in the middle of that. 

“I am so going to get them back for this,” He muttered, tilting his head back against the mirrored wall of the elevator, “Thirty seconds. That was all we needed, and then we could have been up there enjoying our evening.”

“Darling,” Penny sighed, reaching out to touch his arm, “I highly doubt it was intentional on your brothers part.”

He huffed, shaking his head as he folded his arms, “They knew Pen. They knew what getting away this weekend meant and--”

The squeeze of her hand on his arm cut him off, shaking her head at him she smiled, “Darling it’s okay. We’ll get there eventually and catch up on things.”

That was just the problem though, she didn’t understand the importance of that evening. He had been planning it for months, trying ridiculously hard to keep a lid on his plans and keep her in the dark about it all. This was Penelope though, someone who made it her business to know everyone else's business. Keeping a secret for Gordon was hard enough, without having to keep it from the woman he shared everything with. 

Tilting her head, she frowned at him slightly, “What was so important about it being this weekend anyway? Parker insisted I rearranged my meeting with the Guide Dogs society.”

Winning Parker over had possibly been the hardest part of the whole endeavour. Buying the elder man’s silence had perhaps been even harder

“Nothing much,” He lied with a shrug, pursing his lips slightly as her hand tightened again on his arm, “Just wanted it to be special at all.”

“Darling, you always were dreadful at lying to me,” She whispered leaning into him, “You’ve been up to something, John told me as much, and you’ve kept it from me.”

Her tone was low, the kind of dangerously quiet murmur that just screamed trouble. 

One of her hands reached down to his hip, “I’m going to get my own back for you keeping secrets.”

Oh god. He knew that look, the narrowed eyes with that glint that sparkled in the blues of her iris’. The way her mouth curled up ever so slightly as she leant in and her fingers reached under his shirt just above his hip bones, digging in just enough. 

“No!” he begged, unable to help but laugh as he tried to squirm away from her in the limited space, “No! Penny please-- Don--” He broke off in a breathless giggle as she continued to tickle him, her fingers finding all the most sensitive spots to make him writhe.

“Pen!” He gasped, wriggling out of her reach, “Oh come on, that’s just mean, you know how ticklish I am!”

She laughed softly, her smile wide as she watched him, “All the better for getting my own back.”

Righting himself and resuming his position sat up against the mirror, he shook his head. She was evil when it suited her, but god, he loved her for it. A devil and an angel all wrapped up into one. 

“I do know, you know?” She murmured as he shuffled back towards her, lifting his arm to rest across her shoulders. Shifting into him, she rested her head against his chest, fitting against him like a piece of a puzzle. 

“Know what?” He asked before pressing his lips to her hair, the smell of orchids still fresh and sweet from her shampoo. 

“It’s two years today since I saved you.”

She didn’t need to expand, they both knew just what she was referencing. Still, he could help but hold her a little tighter, breathe in the smell of orchids a little deeper. 

“Marry me.” He found himself murmuring against her hair, “Lady Penelope Creighton- Ward, would you marry me?”

It hadn’t at all been how he had planned. There was meant to be a dinner and candles, music and moonlight, and a chance to build himself up to asking her perhaps the biggest question of his life. 

Somehow though, the way it had come out just seemed right. 

Even if it was whilst they were trapped in an elevator. 

Her eyes were wide, her mouth slightly open as she floundered for words. Gordon could feel his heart in his throat as he waited, praying just to hear a single word.

“That was what all this was about?” She finally choked out, “You--” She caught herself, shaking her head as she smiled, a laugh breaking free, “Of course I will Gordon.”

He had to sigh in relief, sinking back against the wall in relief as she leant in to kiss him. Brief and sweet and purely a tease of what would no doubt come later. He still missed her as she pulled away, her brow creased in thought. 

Before she could speak, he shrugged apologetically, “The ring is up in the room, so you’ll have to wait for it I’m afraid.

Her laugh was bright and lit up her whole face, “I wasn’t thinking of that darling. I was thinking how I’m somewhat cross at John for telling me you were up to something.”

He grinned and shrugged, “We’ll get him back next time he’s home. Your brains and my pranks, we’ve got to be a force to be reckoned with.”

She settled back into his side, humming thoughtfully, “I don’t doubt we can come up with something before they come and find us.”

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfic #Thunderbirds 2015 #Pen and Ink #Lady Penelope #Gordon Tracy #irrelief2020 #irrelief #scribbles writes

[such-a-random-rambler]

A snippet for the prompt ‘EOS and Scott bonding time (bonus if it’s over John)’ from @tsarinatorment , could you be a dear and add it to your list @gumnut-logic

“Has it got any better EOS?” Scott was tired, bone tired, too tired to settle but not too tired to worry. He had not been on the island for more than twelve hours in the last seventy-two and had now been grounded as unsafe to fly. That just freed him up for other work though, for as much as he had been on the go in the last few weeks there was someone who’d been getting less sleep than him.  

“Not significantly. It is twenty three hours since his last rest period.”

“Remind me of what we’ve tried.” Scott said, running a weary hand across todays stubble.

“I have prepared milky drinks, played soothing music and increased the ambient temperature to promote drowsiness. He just poured another coffee.”

“Did we swap the coffee out for decaf yet?”

“We tried that last week. He noticed straight away and had it replaced.”

“Damn it. Any other ideas? He needs to get a decent night’s sleep. Can you reroute all calls to island? He might sleep if he is bored.”

“He would just get a head start on next week’s maintenace schedule. I could always adjust the composition of the atmosphere slightly. A bit less oxygen and a bit less carbon dioxide might have the desired affect.”

“Of all the things I miss up here, I miss Grandma Tracy’s cookies the most.”

“He wants Grandma Tracy’s cookies?” Alan paused in his cleaning, confused.  

A spike of fear and adrenaline battled for control, but Scott pushed them both down. “That’s not John.”

The twist in his stomach as Three launched. The sick feeling when Brains patched though to the real John. The numbness as he watched his brother’s eyes slide closed, suffocating alone.

Scott blinked away the memory. They were past all that, long past, but still “Let’s not have you mess with John’s air supply.”

“Of course.” The small holographical representation of the mechanical body that housed the infinite complexity of the artificial intelligence focused it’s lens on him. It could have been Scott’s imagination that he was being scrutinised and assessed, but he knew better.

“What?”

“Have you tried talking to him? He has a great deal of respect for your opinions and authority, I’m sure that he would listen once you explained the concerns you have for his health.”

The blinking light seemed very ….. earnest. But had she learned about sarcasm?

“John? Listen to me? Are you kidding? I haven’t been able to get John to do what he’s told since he got tall enough to reach the cookie jar himself. If I thought John would listen to a damned  word I said..... well, life would be a lot easier.”

“I have a great analytic ability than any other system on the planet, access to every piece of information in human history and can extrapolate from it in a moment. And he doesn’t listen to me either.”

Scott smiled, gave a rueful laugh. “If he wasn’t stubborn he wouldn’t be nearly as good at his job. But I’m sure we can beat him together. Now, what other ideas do you have?”

#irrelief #irrelief2020 #thunderbirds are go #tag #thunderbirds #Scott Tracy #eos

[eirabach]

Souvenirs

A tiny little irrelief fic for @louthestarspeaker‘s prompt “Penelope collects snowglobes for Gordon”. Thank you for another great challenge @gumnut-logic!

Parker hates clutter -- a side effect, she suspects, of the ability of aristocratic trinkets to attract both dust and occasionally enterprising and foolhardy burglars -- so it’s simpler to keep them here, hidden away, arrayed on the dresser in her bedroom where no-one but she ever goes.

Ever went, at least, but that’s hardly here or there. This little habit had begun long before that. 

She’s found herself hiding some of the oldest examples when he comes to stay, tucking them safe between layers of lace and silk. Drawers full of little glass secrets that she’s not quite ready to bare.

The first one contains a tiny model of the Golden Gate bridge, and when she shakes it drifts of glitter-snow bank against its towers and settle on the cables. The same cables that had frayed and snapped and sent a dozen unfortunate souls tumbling to an untimely end. It would have been more -- should have been more -- were it not for a boy with a sunshine smile and a little yellow submarine.

She’d seen it on the holo in her Los Angeles hotel room, watched, jaw tight and heart thundering, as Four’s snub nose had dived, again and again, and never mentioned, afterward, the way she’d gripped at her pillow as the road crumbled and the ocean foamed. Never examined the panic nor the urge, sudden and all consuming, to slip into the tacky gift shop she knows to be a front and pocket the snowglobe as she tackles the ‘owner’.

And so it becomes a habit, and she doesn’t examine that much, either. Not after Atlantis (a terribly painted Greek village), nor after the plasticky Aztec temple. Not after the dam, not after the seaquakes, not after the burning oil rig or Venice or Perth or Arran. Just hunts out a reference in glass and polymer to lay out on her dresser, to shake when the nights are too long and too dark and the comms are too busy to sleep. 

Nights where he’s there, and she’s here, and the world and all its disasters lie between them. 

Nights like this, nights when eve though she’s allowed, now, to fret and to worry, she daren’t. Daren’t let her hands shake for fear they might never stop. So instead she chooses her favourite -- Venice, antique -- and shakes that instead. Pours her worry and her fear and her pride, so much pride, into the action until her wrist hurts and the painted canal blurs.

She watches the glitter settle, the waters calm, and waits.

#irrelief2020 #irrelief #Thunderbirds are Go #gordon tracy #penelope creighton ward #clare vs writers block

[tsarisfanfiction]

2, 8, and 12 for the fanfic day asks? :D

Yay, more asks :D  Thank you!  I kept my answers TAG for this one, otherwise they - especially the first one - would get reaaaally long.  First answer is still long, oops.

FanFic Writer Friday! // Fanfic Writer Ask Meme

2) What is your favourite snippet of dialogue?

Uhh... I have written a lot of dialogue.  (A lot in general, oops.)  Can I think of one?  No, so have a few of the ones I’m particularly pleased with :D

Scott kept his eyes on the road in front of them. "From what I can tell, you're just as fit as my Gordon," he said. "He'd make my life hell if I treated him like he was broken. Well, I did, at first," he admitted. "When he was in hospital, and then through the physio afterwards. I… I was terrified something would go wrong." He'd never told anyone that before, but Other-Gordon… Something told him Other-Gordon needed to hear it. "But he wasn't having any of it." A fond grin crept onto his face uninvited, but he didn't try and force it away. "Gordon's tough, stronger than the rest of us put together, probably. I won't lie, it took me a while, but I trust him to know his limits. If he's having a bad day, if he can't go out, he tells me. Otherwise…" he shrugged. "He can handle it."

~Long Way From Home (chapter 9)

"It's okay, Scott," he promised. "I won't lie and say it didn't scare me, but you're home safe and that's what matters."

"But, I-"

Virgil clamped a hand over his mouth, muffling his protest. "But nothing," he said. "We've all done it, and we'll all keep doing it because we miss him. Being the oldest doesn't make you immune, and I'd be more upset if you didn't slip up like the rest of us, Scott. It…" He faltered for a moment but his hand was still over Scott's mouth, keeping him from speaking up. "If even you do it sometimes, then that means I don't have to feel bad whenever I do."

~Cracks Under The Surface

"Now then, I need to talk to your brothers."

"No!" he protested, reaching out for her wrist to stop her. "Please." Don't scold them. He knew he was in the wrong, but he couldn't let his brothers be punished for his poor judgement.

For the first time since the hangar, Grandma softened. "I think they're punishing themselves enough," she assured him, before stepping back towards him and gently cupping his cheek with her hand. "It would help everyone if you looked out for yourself like you do your brothers, Scott." He blinked at her, not quite comprehending her point – it was his responsibility to look after his brothers – and she gave him an almost sad smile before leaving the room.

~Grounded (chapter 1)

"I'm saying that tomorrow, they're not gonna look at me and say 'that's Gordon Tracy, the Olympic Champion!'" he said bluntly. "Tomorrow, they're gonna look at me and say 'that's Scott Tracy's little brother!', and I'm gonna say 'damn straight I am.'" He grabbed a handful of Scott's pyjamas and made a fist, right over his brother's chest. "Because tomorrow is your day and I – we – are damn proud of you, Scott. So don't you dare run away from this and try and put us in the limelight instead. Not this time."

~In Your Shadow

"Well I'll be sure to remember this one properly!" he declared. "And there will be photos! John said!"

"Don't trust John, either," Scott grumbled. "He's telling you lies and slander and you're all happily believing him because you're a bunch of traitorous kids."

"John wouldn't lie!" Alan defended his absent brother. John said weird things sometimes, but he didn't lie!

Scott raised an eyebrow at him, but shook his head with a sigh.

"You'll learn," he muttered.

"I'm not a kid," Virgil protested before Alan could find a reply to that.

"You're believing John over me, so you're a kid," Scott retorted.

~Return of the Dragon (Riding the Dragon, chapter 2)

And to finish off (I keep remembering more but I’ll call it here otherwise I’ll never stop)... from a certain WIP a bunch of people seem hungry for more of - have a teaser!

“But Dad-”

“Isn’t you,” Gordon interrupted.  “I do remember when Mom died, you know.  Dad wasn’t the one that kept us together then, either.”  Scott didn’t respond, and Gordon suspected he’d closed his eyes. “You’ve done so much for us, Scott. Even when we’ve been ungrateful menaces, you’ve been there, and don’t think we don’t know that, because we do.”

He leant forwards carefully, cautiously wrapping his arms around his brother’s neck in a poor, loose imitation of the squid hug he knew Scott needed but was in no condition to receive and burying one hand in the hair at the back of Scott’s head as it rested on his shoulder.

“You’re carrying a weight I can’t even begin to understand,” he continued, holding his brother as tightly as he dared.  “And right now, you’re not okay.  Don’t even try to tell me otherwise.  It’s cliché as hell but you know, it’s okay to not be okay.”

Scott said nothing, but Gordon felt the shoulder of his shirt get ever so slightly damp and let him have the silence.

~Sticks and Stones (unpublished) - fun fact, this is the conversation that sparked the entire fic!

8) How often do people catch onto your little details?

I’ll be honest, not as often as I’d like.  Or at least, they don’t tell me they do.  I like to throw small details in - I do it a lot - and there’s always part of me waiting to see if anyone catches them because they’re often things I’m proud of.  Most of the time, they get no reaction so I assume people didn’t see them or didn’t care about them, which does get disappointing sometimes...

But on the flip side, it means when someone does catch one and gush about it, I’m over the moon!

12) What’s the hardest thing to write for you?

Humour, romance, and people being idiots.  Anything that gives me second hand embarrassment (because I’m terrible for that; it makes me cringe so hard).  Romance is less on the cringe side of things, but I’d much rather write (and read) about platonic relationships than romance.  Humour just makes me feel awkward because “is this funny?  I find it funny but will anyone else or will they just think it’s stupid and not in a good way”.  People being idiots - if it gives me second hand embarrassment it’s a no.

(This is why I stay in the whump area... no humour, no romance, no second hand embarrassment - Scott running around with a knife in him is idiocy, yes, but not second hand embarrassing)

#ask me #thunderbirds are go #scott tracy #gordon tracy #virgil tracy #john tracy #alan tracy #grandma tracy #long way from home #bad things happen bingo #grounded #in your shadow #irrelief2020 #wip snippets #louthestarspeaker

[soniabigcheese]

Not sure if this qualifies for the #irrelief2020 prompts from @gumnut-logic but I'll put it here anyways.

Scott being hurt and his brothers helping him out.

OW!

The branch came from nowhere, slapping him in the face as it whipped around from the tension it had been holding.

Worried faces surrounded him.

"Scott? You okay?"

"Uhhh."

He tried to sit up but everything spun around. He put his hand to his face and felt his eye swelling, the surrounding area was starting to feel tender. Not only that, his legs were burning as he managed to fall into a bed to stinging nettles.

"Sorry Scott," Virgil's voice was full of concern, "didn't mean that to happen. You should have moved when I told you."

Summer time, school was out and the older boys decided to visit the creek to climb trees, go on adventures ...

... that sort of thing.

Oh and to get out of mom's way as she had her hands full with Gordon - who was seriously into everything ... as curious toddlers would be.

John was carrying a couple of books, his iPad and some sun cream so that he could relax in the shade without burning too badly.

Virgil carried a backpack with a few essentials that he and his grandma put together - water, a couple of apples each and a travel first aid kit ...

... you know ..

... just in case

Scott just took himself, because ... heck, there was plenty to find anyways.

They climbed trees, fell into the creek a couple of times. The usual stuff.

Then had a game of dare, to see how high they could climb one of the trees. It was notoriously bendy and flexible ...

... and dangerous to climb.

But that didn't deter Scott. He was determined to climb as far as he could.

And now, here he was, sitting whilst Virgil was applying dock leaves to his blotchy skin and John was doing a search on how to reduce a swollen eye.

At least there weren't any broken bones - for now.

But that still didn't deter Scott from doing even more daredevil stuff.

#thunderbirds are go #scott tracy #virgil tracy #john tracy #irrelief2020

[gumnut-logic]

His Part

This is another IRRelief fic this time using @hodgehegposts​ ‘s prompt ‘One of the brothers being ticklish’. I’ve already posted the first part of this, but I have posted it now in full. Thank you to those of you who read it incomplete. I had tried so hard to complete it in one session, but had to call it quits because of work.

Timeline: Shortly after Jeff’s disappearance, Kermadec AU, but it is not even mentioned, so completely standalone. It just uses the boys ages from that universe. Younger!Tracys

Spoilers & Warnings: None, really, 4714 words, edited very quickly at lunch at work, so apologies for anything I missed.

-o-o-o-

It started off as a mild annoyance.

Scott had fallen asleep at his father’s desk. Too much paperwork, most of which he was learning on the fly. Board members doubting his ability to take over from his father and juggle International Rescue. Virgil would kick his ass if he found out. John probably already knew. 

Both elder brothers were doing their best to help. Virgil was taking on as much International Rescue as was humanly possible. John was juggling Tracy Industries almost as much as Scott while handling day-to-day IR.

His father’s shoes were massive to fill.

And he left a gaping hole in Scott’s heart.

Waking up with an imprint of his own knuckles on the side of his face and a massive crick in his neck wasn’t the best. Staring at the glow of the twelve reports still awaiting review did nothing to improve his mood.

Briefly wondering how he had managed to sleep what appeared to be at least an hour with no disturbance, he remembered that Virgil was still on the other side of the planet, John was likely busy with that same situation and the two youngest were in bed. Grandma had returned to Kansas to finalise some of Dad’s personal matters.

Scott groaned and let his head fall onto his arms again.

He was so tired.

Something tickled his neck.

Absently, he swiped at it and ended up hitting himself in the head.

A few things between his ears rattled loose.

The tickle climbed down his spine and found his ribcage.

Scott’s eyes widened and he jumped out of the chair, sending it spinning across the floor.

What the-?

It was under his shirt.

There followed a most undignified, full-bodied dance across the comms room as he attempted to get whatever it was out of his shirt.

It didn’t hurt, but it tickled like crazy. He was caught between screaming and uncontrolled giggling.

In the end, he resorted to ripping his shirt off and flinging it across the room.

The tickling stopped.

And was replaced with goose pimples as the pre-dawn breeze wafted across his skin. Scott found himself bare chested and breathing heavily.

He wasn’t afraid of bugs, but that was…strange. He eyed his shirt as if it was going to jump up and bite him.

Of course, that was the moment Gordon wandered through on his way to his morning training. The fish stood at the top of the stairs for a full ten seconds staring at his topless eldest brother standing in the middle of the room, lit only by the blue light of holo-projector on the desk.

“Interesting look there, Scott.”

Scott spared him a glare before grabbing the shirt off the floor. “Lights.”

The comms room lit up. Scott drew some satisfaction as Gordon cringed from the sudden brightness. Fortunately, the little fish scuttled off to his pool and left Scott alone without another annoying word.

There was no bug in or on his shirt. After examining it, he had no choice but to throw it back on, or continue to invite comments from the waking peanut gallery.

The sudden appearance of John on the central projector and the distant roar of the return of Thunderbird Two flicked all thoughts of bugs from his mind as the new day started even before the sun made an appearance.

-o-o-o-

Virgil was exhausted but he didn’t have time to sleep. He did give himself a few moments to sit in the kitchen, worship his bucket of coffee and stare out at Mateo as the sun rose over it. It was only blinding if he focussed on it and he didn’t have the energy to do that.

Two needed repair and she needed it now.

His last rescue had involved a volcano and she had far too many particulates in her filters. They would all need replacing before he felt comfortable taking her out again. 

After that he needed to see to Alan and help him set up for the morning’s classes. He quite enjoyed helping his littlest brother, but he enjoyed it much more when he hadn’t been up all night.

But first coffee.

So warm. So inviting.

He closed his eyes as sipped the blessed liquid that was going to give him the energy to get through the rest of the day.

He nearly dropped the mug as something tickled him under his upraised arm.

He saved the mug, but didn’t manage to stifle the high-pitched squawk.

The coffee was deposited carefully, but Virgil was out of his seat and grabbing at his clothing in an energetic frenzy.

There may have been one or two more high pitched squeaks as red flannel was rubbed and scrubbed at frantically. 

Out of desperation, Virgil tore off both his shirt and his grey undershirt and threw them on the floor. He resisted the urge to stamp on them.

It was his favourite shirt.

“Virg?”

He looked up to find Gordon, fresh from the pool, standing in the doorway staring at him.

“You okay?”

If Virgil flushed red, he wasn’t going to acknowledge it. “Bug in my shirt.”

“Really.”

“Really.” Frowning his grabbed his shirt from off the floor, eyeing it suspiciously. Screw it, he sat down shirtless in front of his coffee and resumed staring out the window.

Gordon walked past him to the stairs, frowning and shooting him the oddest looks.

Virgil ignored him.

-o-o-o-

Scott made it through to lunch and finally dug up the answers the factory manager in Oklahoma had been begging him for. He had also managed to answer the lawyers, read and sign a pile of holographic documents and have a long-delayed meeting with the Japanese CEO. At least John had been able to help with translation. To be honest, it had just been a relief to have a brother to talk to.

Surrounded by family.

Too damned busy.

The last task for the morning was a parent-teacher conversation with Gordon’s curriculum manager. Scott had suspicions that there was a little too much Olympic training happening versus school work. It was a fine balance that had to be maintained. Gordon was a good student, if a little out of the ordinary…but then what Tracy wasn’t? At least two were diagnosed geniuses, and the other three focussed on their goals to the point of blindness, himself included.

His short Air Force career flickered through his mind and he shunted it away.

He was where he needed to be. Fate saw to that.

Scott stepped into the sunken lounge and briefly wondered if he was going to be allowed to leave this room today at any point. 

A resigned sigh and he his comms. “Gordon, time for the meeting.”

“FAB. Be there in two.”

Gordon was true to his word and appeared almost immediately, loud shirt and shorts as eye blasting as usual.

Scott reached out dropped a hand on his little brother’s shoulder. At sixteen, already Gordon’s accomplishments required a cabinet to hold all the trophies. With the loss of their father, Gordon had stumbled with the rest of them, but he was regaining his feet fast. He had to. This was his chance. The 2056 Olympics waited for no excuses.

This time it started on his wrist.

The faintest of tickles.

It was a tickle, not an itch. It played with nerve endings just like someone had their finger gently brushing across the surface of his skin.

It travelled up his arm as he snatched his hand away from his brother.

It was in his shirt again.

There were words as he once again found himself grabbing at his shirt.

“Scott, what?”

He was vaguely aware of the concerned expression on his brother’s face, but he was too busy trying not to giggle or scream.

His shirt ended up on the floor again.

Gordon stared at him a full five seconds, his face caught between incredulity, worry and hysterical laughter. Being Gordon, the laughter won out.

Scott ignored him and poked his shirt with his foot.

Of course, that was the moment John flickered in to advise that the curriculum manager was ready for the meeting. Scott had to admit that somewhere in the back of his wasted brain, there was something quite funny about the expression on the space monitor’s face.

Gordon, of course, had tears running down his face and was useless.

Scott had a lot of experience keeping his composure. He needed it all at the moment. “John, could you please ask Ms Smithson to hold for a moment, I need to grab a shirt.”

John bit his lip, obviously holding something back. But, ever the professional, he didn’t say anything but, “FAB,” before blinking out.

Scott picked up his shirt with two fingers and made a beeline for his bedroom.

At least he got a moment outside of the comms room.

-o-o-o-

A new shirt found, Scott made it through the interview. Turned out Gordon had been really working hard and with a small adjustment to his curriculum, he should be able to manage both his training and his graduation with only a small delay. Scott was satisfied that it would be the best for the athlete at this time.

The grin on Gordon’s face made it extra worthwhile.

Scott turned back to the desk after the meeting, but the list of messages awaiting his attention just hurt to look at.

Screw it. He deserved food, another room and maybe even some brotherly conversation. A quick check on Virgil’s location placed him, as expected, in the hangars. The engineer had not been happy that his ‘bird had suffered during last night’s rescue. Virgil was as bad as he was. His brother hadn’t slept, International Rescue his highest priority.

Scott sighed. How could they be expected to go ahead like this?

Lunch. Food. He struggled to focus his mind. Had he had breakfast? He couldn’t remember.

An elevator ride and he walked out into the cool underground caverns that housed the great green behemoth that was the love of his brother’s life.

It wasn’t hard to locate that brother. The profanity was extreme for Virgil and it had Scott quickening his step around the great plane. He found him harnessed and hanging in front of Two’s starboard intake. The swearing was moving into European languages, never a good sign.

Scott shouted up at the dangling engineer. “Virgil?!”

“What?!” A spanner fell and hit the concrete two metres in front of Scott. Despite himself, he jumped.

Virgil stared down at him owlishly for a whole handful of seconds. “Sorry.” It was muttered, honest, but grudging.

“Can you come down?”

“Why?”

“It’s lunch time.”

“I’m not hungry. I’ve got to get this done. I’ve got to replace part of the filter housing.”

“Well, I am hungry and you haven’t slept. Come down.”

“I’m fine! This can’t wait!”

“Damnit, Virgil, get down here now!”

The glare that hit him from above was dark and fuelled from the bottom of a desperate coffee pot. Scott had no doubt of that.

But one more muttered expletive and his brother rappelled down to the concrete floor. Dressed in flannel with his maintenance harness secured over ratty jeans, Virgil was covered in dust and grime.

Didn’t dull his fury though.

The fact he was so angry, so out of character for the generally calm and quiet engineer was more than enough proof that his brother needed rest.

“What do you want, Scott. I have to fix my ‘bird otherwise she can’t fly and we can’t answer the next call.”

“I’m having some serious doubts we can answer the next call anyway. Look at yourself, Virgil. You’re exhausted.”

“Kettle, pot, Scott.”

“Exactly! Eat lunch with me.”

Those dark brows wrinkled even further, brown eyes making that subtle switch between engineer and concerned brother.

Scott supposed he should have expected this. Maybe he was asking for it, hiding from a decision he knew he was going have to make. 

Offering himself up as a sacrifice in order for Virgil to make the decision for him.

He was so goddamned tired.

This time the tickle started on his calf, just above his right sock.

He wriggled, frowning, shifting his feet.

It climbed up his leg and he let out a squawk somewhere between a giggle and a profane word that would have had Grandma washing his mouth out with soap.

“Scott?”

It was running around and around his thigh. Scott cracked and grabbed at his leg, spinning on the spot as Virgil reached for him.

Whatever it was, it was fast. Up and down his leg as if anticipated his attempts to grab it through his jeans.

“Scott, what is…oh, shit!”

The eldest Tracy spun to find Virgil hanging upside down in his harness grabbing at his shirt.

The tickle in Scott’s leg took the opportunity to breach his waist band and play with his navel.

Buttons flew across the hangar as Scott tore the shirt from his body. 

There was nothing on his belly.

Virgil squawked and writhed, still upside down.

The tickle appeared back in Scott’s pants, this time behind his left knee. He didn’t hesitate, shedding his shoes, he shucked his pants and tossed them aside.

Finally, finally the ticklish feeling stopped. But Scott was left in his black short briefs and socks.

And damn it was cold in the hangars.

Virgil was still writhing upside down, unable to shed clothing due to his harness. “Goddamnit, Scott, help.” There was the sound of ripping flannel as heavy lifting muscles resorted to force.

Scott grabbed at his brother’s harness and wrapping an arm around those broad shoulders, released the safety line. Virgil weight was considerable, but Scott stabilised him enough for the engineer to get his feet beneath him. A fumble with the harness buckles and the support fell to the concrete with a clink of its metal links.

Torn flannel followed.

Two layers of shirt stripped, Virgil suddenly took a deep breath and dropped his hands to his knees, letting his head drop. “It’s stopped.”

Both brothers heaved in air for a moment.

“What the hell was that?” Virgil looked up at Scott.

“I have no idea. Third time this morning.”

“Second.” Virgil’s voice was all breath.

“Happened before?”

Virgil nodded. “Over coffee.” A frown. “Gordon came in afterwards. This isn’t a new prank is it?”

Scott stared at his brother for a moment. “Gordon was there both times this morning.”

Virgil’s shoulders dropped. “I’m going to kill him.”

“He’s not here now.” Scott looked around before hesitantly poking his shirt enough to activate his comms. “Thunderbird Five, could you give me a location on Gordon?”

“Scott? You okay?”

“I will be once I find Gordon.”

“He’s on the pool deck, apparently studying. The meeting went well?”

Scott frowned. “Yes, a few small changes will make room for his training. Gordon was very happy with the plan.” Could explain the studying.

“That’s great news.”

“Yes, it is.” He wondered how happy John would be if he could see him standing in his underwear next to a shirtless Virgil.

“Are you sure you are okay?”

Perhaps his brother didn’t need to see. “I’ll let you know after I’ve spoken to Gordon.”

“Okay. Remember fratricide is not an option.”

“Don’t spoil it for me.”

-o-o-o-

A clean pair of pants and two shirts later they found Gordon exactly where John said he would be. The sixteen-year-old was camped out on a pool lounger with a portable holoprojector, his tablet and even a print book open beside him.

“Gordon?” The strawberry blond head remained focussed on the tablet. 

“Gordon!”

Scott jumped. Hell, Virgil could yell when he needed to.

Gordon looked up calmly. “Virg? Something wrong?” Scott watched his little brother take in their state of undress. Neither of them had shoes on or had done up their shirts, just in case. “What are you guys doing?”

“What do you think?” He stepped down onto the pool deck, gesturing to his open shirt. “This is on you, and you know it.”

A blink. “Know what?”

Beside Scott, Virgil lost it. God, a tired Virgil was a cranky Virgil. “What did you put in our clothes?”

“Er, nothing?” Gordon appeared to realise he was tackling the family bear in a fury, a rare, but never good thing. He put down his tablet and stood up, backing away a little. “Now, Virg, I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“You’re kidding me.”

Another step back. “Uh, no. I really have no idea what you are talking about.” Pleading eyes darted to Scott.

If Scott wasn’t so tired, he might have found the whole reversal of roles between himself and Virgil somewhat ironic. As things were, he reached out and gently wrapped his hand around Virgil’s arm.

His hand only made it part way around one bulging bicep. When the hell had that happened? He tugged gently. “Virg…”

That resulted in a pair of furious brown targeting him. “What?! He could have caused a serious accident. What if it happened while I was up in the intakes? Whatever the hell he did, it was dangerous.”

Okay, so Virgil had a point.

Gordon held up his hands. “Honest, guys, I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“So, you know nothing about an…irritant in our clothing?” Scott stared him down.

“Uh, no?”

He held his little brother’s expression a moment longer. It would likely have been even longer, but Gordon suddenly frowned.

And grabbed at his pants. “What the hell?”

Both Scott and Virgil stared as Gordon started dancing around the pool deck tearing at his clothes. His squawk turned into a giggle as he squirmed. “Omigod, stop!” The giggle became a laugh and Scott found himself holding back from joining in. Beside him Virgil snorted before running in to help their struggling little brother.

He needn’t have bothered. Gordon gave out an exaggerated laugh before throwing himself in the pool.

The sudden silence was almost shocking.

“Gordon!” Virgil stood on the side of the pool staring down at his brother under the water. Two strides and Scott was beside him as Gordon resurfaced, hair in his face, gasping and shirtless.

“Oh my god, that was hilarious!” He coughed out another laugh and threw his shirt onto the deck. “I want to know how you did that.” Gordon grinned up at them.

“We didn’t do it.” Virgil’s voice was sharp.

“Wha-? You’re kidding?” 

Scott shook his head as Gordon levered himself out of the pool.

“Then who? And how?” The swimmer shook the water out of his hair and coated his brothers in the process. At Virgil’s snarl, Gordon’s grin was unrepentant. 

Well, when he looked at it that way, there were only two possible choices and this was not a Brains concept in the slightest.

It was Gordon who said it first. “Alan? Where are you? That was so cool! You gotta show me how you did it!”

Scott didn’t expect an answer. He expected to have to hunt his little brother down like he had Gordon, oh, so many times. So, he was surprised when Alan slunk out of the kitchen with some kind of remote in his hands.

“Alan?” Virgil’s voice spoke of the shock Scott was attempting to process in his head. Alan was a good student. Precocious and bright, but far from the prankster his brother was.

Gordon bounced over to his little brother. “That was so cool! How did you do it?”

“Nanobots.”

“Nanobots.” The word fell from Virgil’s mouth. “You used medical technology for a prank?” 

Scott reached out and grabbed Virgil’s arm again. “Alan, explain yourself.”

The boy’s shoulders dropped. “Failed experiment for school.”

Scott blinked. “What?” None of this was making sense.

And suddenly he was shot with a pair of anguished eyes. “I only wanted to make you laugh!”

Scott stared.

The bicep under his hand wilted.

“Allie?” Gordon’s voice was curious, but soft.

Those blue eyes shifted to the fish. “They don’t smile anymore, much less laugh. So, I thought a little medical intervention might help.” And those hurting eyes flickered to Virgil.

The sound that issued from the engineer was heartbreaking.

While Scott’s brain was uncharacteristically caught in freefall, Gordon presented a parachute. “You made ticklebots?!” His amber eyes were wide with amazement.

As always, Gordon’s joy was infectious and Alan relaxed just a little, a small smile curving his lips. “Yeah, kinda.”

Gordon bounded over and grabbed his brother in a massive hug. “I am so proud!”

Scott let go of Virgil and took several of the steps between himself and his little eleven-year-old brother.

Gordon continued to gush, asking a range of technical questions with such enthusiasm that the small corner of Scott’s mind that was still functioning alerted him that this could be a bad thing for his future sanity.

But right now, he was fixated by those blue eyes, so reflective of his own that were staring up at him.

“Alan?”

Gordon stopped his babbling, but took up a defensive position beside his little brother. Something inside Scott bent and broke just a little.

But his focus was on Alan.

Those blue eyes looked down, breaking contact. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to see you laugh.”

“So, you tried to tickle us?”

Defiance shot those eyes back up. “Well, I wasn’t going to drug you, was I? Nothing else was working! You and Virgil are just so sad and busy and John is never here anymore and…and…no one laughs anymore!” A frown. Those eyes flickered past Scott and crumpled. “And you’re crying again.”

Scott turned and found Virgil struggling with his emotions, a tear running down his face. Aw, shit.

Alan turned away and took a retreating step, but a blur of red flannel and the youngest was swept up in desperate hug. “I’m sorry, Allie.”

A muffled “’s’not your fault.” But Alan was clinging to his brother like a life raft.

Scott blinked several times. The thought that his genius little brother had to resort to technology out of desperation to see a smile hurt somewhere deep down where he had buried his own tears.

An amber gaze saved him from drowning. Gordon stood on the other side of Virgil and Alan, his shoulders straightening. “So, Allie, can I borrow your bots?”

With that single sentence, the moment snapped with a chorused “No!” from the both eldest. Virgil tumbled backwards in his haste to stand up.

Gordon feigned innocence. “Why not? I have my own experiment to perform. You know, for mental health reasons.”

“No, Gordon.” Scott’s tone was full commander, but the fish just grinned up at him. Hell, he was caught wondering if Gordon would ever obey him.

“Gordon.” Virgil’s voice had that deep grumble of warning.

The fish shrugged and relented. “Eh, your loss. It was going to be brilliant.”

“Sure.” Scott’s tone dripped sarcasm.

“But!” Gordon grinned. “Allie wins the trophy for the concept and invention!” He wrapped an arm around his little brother’s shoulders. “I am so proud.”

Alan smiled up at the fish with appreciation.

Scott held out his hand and those shoulders dropped, the smile disappearing.

“Alan.”

More the reluctant and pouting tween he was, his little brother handed over the remote. Scott glanced at it before handing it off immediately to Virgil. The engineer would be able to make more sense of it than he ever would.

Scott held out an arm and blue eyes stared up at him for just a split second before dashing into the hug the eldest was desperate to give him. Both arms wrapped around Alan and he buried his face in blond hair. “I’m sorry, Allie.”

“’S not your fault.”

“Doesn’t matter. I will try to do better.”

“’S not your fault.”

A glance in Virgil’s direction only to find the big man fighting back tears again. Even Gordon’s expression was a little broken…until he realised Scott was looking at him, then the goofiest of grins split his face and he crossed his eyes.

The laugh that fell from Scott’s lips was almost strangled by a sob.

The devilry that suddenly appeared on that face overrode every other thought with mild fear.

Gordon didn’t disappoint. Sliding up behind a teary Virgil, he darted in and tickled their bear of a brother.

Virgil squawked and wriggle danced out of reach.

Scott couldn’t help it. 

He laughed again.

“C’mere, Virgie, I wanna ticklebot you!” Gordon exaggerated tickling fingers at his brother before jumping into what became a hilarious chase around the pool.

Scott couldn’t help but grin even more.

Alan outright laughed.

And something lifted just a little from Scott’s chest.

“Thank you, Allie.”

Surprised blue shot up at him.

“You’re right. We need to laugh more.”

Virgil ended up in the pool.

Gordon jumped in after him.

And Scott hugged his littlest brother so much closer.

-o-o-o-

The afternoon relaxed into together time. Phones rang but were ignored. John was dragged down from orbit. The barbecue was lugged out, food found and cooked for dinner and a comfortable feeling that had been absent since their father had been lost, found its way onto the Island.

Gordon cherished it.

Virgil continued to be a touch emotional during the entire time, grabbing random brothers and attempting to smother them with his arms. Scott was quieter, but even Gordon noticed he was far from Alan at any point that entire afternoon and evening. John was quietly puzzled about the whole thing until he suddenly grabbed at his shirt and jumped and jiggled about.

“Oh, so that’s how it works.” Virgil was staring down at the remote control in his hand, poking at it.

John let out a squawk and fell onto the couch writhing.

His shirt was thrown off moments later.

“Hey, Alan, how do you turn them off?”

Therein followed some discussion on Alan and Virgil’s part, followed by Scott and his two cents when he felt it appropriate.

John started yelling at them after a very short period of time, still writhing on the sofa.

Gordon thought it was absolutely hilarious and had trouble keeping his feet while laughing.

All in all, it was a fantastic afternoon and evening.

Scott fell asleep on the couch with his arm wrapped around a snoozing Alan five minutes into the movie Gordon had chosen. Virgil lasted another five minutes before caving into a faceplant on one of the cushions. His snores made it difficult to hear the movie, but the remaining three brothers cared not a whit. By the time John joined them in the land of the exhausted, the movie was little more than soundscape.

But Gordon wouldn’t have it any other way.

This was something that they had been missing for so long. Gordon sat there fake watching the movie and honestly holding back a few tears at the thought. Alan was right. They needed more laughter. His big brothers, John included, were shouldering so much now their father was no longer with them, and yes, his thoughts stumbled on that acknowledgement. God, he missed his dad. But they all had to do their part.

If there was something Gordon wanted to do, it was bring back the laughter. If it took itching powder and dye, if it took silly hats and fake tattoos, if it took everything he had, he would see his brothers happy.

They all had to do their part.

And he would make this his.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Scott Tracy #Gordon Tracy #Virgil Tracy #Alan Tracy #John Tracy #irrelief #irrelief2020

[bonsaiiiiiii]

A Different Mission This Time

Wrote this mini-fic for @gumnut-logic 's Irrelief challenge (for me it was a bit of a challenge eheh).

I used @eos-in-orbit 's prompt:

• John and Penny being close friends (bonus if there's a suspicious Gordon in the background)

So what happens when Lady P and John are actually close tea friends, but Gordon thinks of something else? Let me spill the hot piping tea for you~

Thank you Nutty (can I call you Nutty?) for this amazing challenge (even if I'm late as usual ugh), and thank you @eos-in-orbit for providing this beautiful prompt! Hope y'all like it!

🍵🍵🍵🍵🍵🍵🍵🍵🍵🍵🍵🍵🍵🍵🍵

Gordon was spying his older brother and Lady Penelope once again. It was the third time that week that they were meeting together! What was the deal with them?

The first time John and Penny started to meet he was all shy and was stumbling with words via hologram, but Gordon decided to not dig further on it, even if his famous squid sense was telling him that there was something wrong with the redhead.

The second time they met each other it was Lady Penelope the one that was a bit shy. She naturally tried to mask it all with a calm expression and her usual decided tone of voice, but even here Gordon had perceived something wrong, and had begun to ask himself some questions.

This was the third time that John and Penelope had met, and John had most likely come down to meet with her on purpose, as he had done so without any kind of notice. After the red man had completed the docking procedure he went to take a shower, as usual. But the real problem was when he walked into the living room with the others.

Gordon had always been a guy who kept track of everything, never leaving anything to chance. And the fact that his brother sprayed himself much more perfume than usual that day made billions of bells ring in his head.

So here was Gordon, with a pair of binoculars pressed on his eyes, hidden behind a bush and dressed all in green, spying on the table of the bar where John and Penny were sitting, then writing down on the notes of his communicator everything that he thought suspicious or alarming. All those tests would then have to go in the notebook that he had bought for the occasion, where he had also written the past events and the behavior of each of the two, so then he would have enough material to be able to expose it.

The bush behind which he was hiding was quite close to his brother’s table, and so he managed to pick up something of what they were saying.

"It was very fortunate to meet you again, Lady P."

"Call me Penny, John. I’ve told you so many times." Gordon opened his mouth to Penny’s statement and then bit the binoculars he had momentarily abandoned. He gave his back for one second to the couple who sat at the table, bending over and writing something in the notes.

A boy passing by happened to stop, looking confused at Gordon. In fact, a blond guy hiding behind a bush, wearing a camouflage suit and a pair of binoculars hanging from his neck wasn’t something you see every day. Gordon, irritated, signaled with his hand to walk away, and the boy turned his eyes and then walked listlessly on the opposite side to the one he was heading to before.

Gordon again took the binoculars in his hand, bringing them back to his eyes and looking through the bush. Because of that little boy who was passing by had lost his attention and had not been able to hear what John and Penny were saying to each other.

Gordon opened his mouth again when he saw the two holding hands.

"...to no one, of us, I mean. They wouldn’t understand it." John said, but unfortunately he couldn’t pick up the beginning of the sentence.

"I understand that. It’s difficult. Don’t worry, I’ll keep it a secret."

Gordon was about to scream when his communicator suddenly rang, warning Scott that he was calling, and even insistently apparently.

"Who’s there?" he heard John asking confused.

Fuck, Scott! You could have called later, like, in a few years! Gordon thought, and then he rolled his eyes and came out of hiding, immediately pointing an accusing finger at John.

"I heard everything! What don’t you want me or anyone else to find out?"

"Gordon! What are you doing here? Besides, it’s none of your business!" replied John, immediately getting defensive.

"If you don’t tell me right now, I’m gonna answer to Scott, and I promise you, even the leaves from Tracy Island trees will know! What the hell are you hiding?!" Gordon barked angrily back.

"Okay, I’ll tell you! Come here though. And get your hands off the communicator!"

Gordon reluctantly walked to the table where John and Penelope were sitting. Now he felt the third wheel in a couple, but he was still angry and confused.

"So.. Penny and I are friends of tea."

Gordon looked at his brother for a second too much, to then blink his eyes. "Huh?"

John rolled his eyes. "Friends of tea. We’re just friends who get together every now and then to have tea, because you guys have no idea what tea is at any moment because of all those fizzy drinks and beers you all drink, and..."

Gordon didn’t listen at all to his brother’s tea talk, thinking. I mean, is that all it is? I had to abandon the Cheetos at home and follow John just for that? So tea friends...must be really boring. I mean, if you get together, at least do some serious stuff, like...eat Cheetos, not drink tea. You can drink your tea at home...but for that matter, even the Cheetos...oh fuck, John is talking to me! What has he said so far? I didn’t listen at all...but do I have to start hearing what he's saying now? What if he asks me questions? But I don’t think he’s asking me all these questions anyway...

"Understood, Gordon?" asked John, and then crossed his arms around his chest with a frowny expression. "You didn’t hear what I said."

"Not even a single word." answered the blond yawning. " That is, I had to get out of bed just for that?" Once that was said he got up, and then said goodbye to both just to show he had some manners, walking listlessly towards the pod he had used to get there, dragging his feet noisily as he walked.

"You won’t tell anyone, will you?" Lady P’s sweet voice followed for a moment.

"Don’t worry, M 'Lady." In his own way, Gordon had accepted this strange friendship between the two, and although he would never admit it he was almost happy for them.

#irrelief #irrelief2020 #Gordon Tracy #John Tracy #Lady Penelope #thunderbirds are go #i'm late lalalala #so late with this lalalala #don't know if it has been done before? #enjoy this mission impossible man

[louthestarspeaker]

Wheelhouse

Here is my first contribution to @gumnut-logic ‘s wonderful IR Relief challenge. I combined the prompts “John and Penny being close friends (bonus if there’s a suspicious Gordon in the background)” from @eos-in-orbit and “Any characters – trapped in a lift/elevator” from @darkestwolfx . 

Summery: John steps up to the plate and out of his comfort zone when he offers to go to attend a meeting in Scott’s place. He’s hoping for a simple straightforward evening, but when is anything ever that easy?

John fiddled with the cufflinks on his suit sleeves. Should he not have worn them? It felt like he was being too formal. He should have asked for another second opinion besides Grandma- she always liked to see him and his brothers all dressed up.  

John was standing in the lobby of a fancy hotel in London, the chosen site for a business transaction between Tracy Industries and a potential partner, waiting by the door for Lady Penelope, who was to help him negotiate.

FAB1 rolled up in front of the hotel, the bright pink in sharp contrast with the stormy weather around it. Parker hurried around to open the door for Penny, holding an umbrella above her head until she was safely under the awning, before heading back to park, valet’s not to be employed for obvious reasons.

John smiled as Penny entered, wearing a cream colored pantsuit and long pink overcoat, her eyes widened in surprise as she caught sight of John. It’d been quite some time since they’d seen each other in person. 

“John! Oh, I’d hug you but I’m soaked. Umbrella’s can’t do much in that wind, I’m afraid.” 

John reached forward for a quick hug anyway. “It’s just water. Besides, it’s nice to have a little weather after coming down from the office.” 

Penelope shook her head. “Speaking of ‘the office’, what are you doing here? Not that I’m not delighted, but wasn’t Scott supposed to be coming?”

John smiled ruefully. “He’s had a bad day, I’m filling in for him.”

“Oh dear, he’s not hurt, is he?”

“No, he’s alright. But you can hardly expect him to play the part of the billionaire business tycoon after spending most of the day rescuing Lemaire.”

Penny hummed in understanding. “Hits a bit too close to home, does it?” 

She laughed at John’s silent nod and flat look, hooking her arm through his and pulling him into a walk. “Trust me, darling, you’re nothing alike. Now we’d best be going, Parker said he’d meet us upstairs. It doesn’t reflect well to be late to your own party.”

“Hardly a party, Pen.” John muttered. Penny glanced up to see John eyeing the people eyeing them. A Tracy or a Creighton-Ward was enough to garner attention on their own, together they attracted the eyes of most everyone in the lobby.

Penny winced internally at John’s obvious discomfort. As much as she’d tried to pull him out of his shell, he still detested the attention. 

“You didn’t want to send Virgil instead?” She asked gently. “I know you don’t care for this sort of thing.”

John shrugged. “You know Virge. He’s more R&D.” 

Brokering a business deal was kind of out of his little brother’s wheelhouse. Out of John’s wheelhouse too actually. He was more the numbers guy, and the great thing about being the numbers guy was you could do it all remotely from your space station twenty-two thousand miles away, or from your private island that might as well be just as far. 

John sighed, finding himself pulling at his sleeves again. Scott really was better at all of this. Did Scott ever wear cufflinks?

“Stop that, John.”  

“Stop what?” He asked, jumping out of his head.

She eyed him with a look saying ‘you know exactly what’. “You’re brooding again.” 

“What? I don’t brood.” He said, hitting the call button for the elevator so he didn’t have to look her in the eyes. “I… ruminate.”

“Whatever you want to call it doesn’t change the fact you need to stop. You are more than capable of heading this meeting.”

John shook his head ruefully. “If you say so, Pen.”

“I do say so, and don’t even think of trying to argue with me, John Tracy.”

John let out a laugh at this bit. 

As if he’d ever stand a chance…  Penny was an excellent negotiator, a talent that served her well- and often-  in her line of work. And was one of the many reasons never to start an argument with her.

“Wouldn’t dream of of it, Pen-”

A loud clap of thunder interrupted him, and the lights buzzed before flickering off completely. Leaving the lobby, and it’s occupants, in the dark. 

“Well. This is rather unfortunate.”

Penn’s remark was one of many as the murmuring of the crowd rose in volume and temperament, many using language not nearly as polite as hers. One call rang above the others though, because it was downright panicked.

“My sister’s stuck in the elevator!”

It was a young man standing near them, alarm evident on his face. The manager rushed over, walking quickly but not running, trying to exhibit some control of the situation. “No cause to worry, sir. The elevator breaks have engaged, she’s in no danger.”

“No, you don’t understand, she’s claustrophobic, she’ll be having a panic attack!” The young man said, looking as if he was about to have a panic attack himself. John stepped in then, instinct driving him.

“Hey, take a breath, your sister will be fine.” John assured the young man. He turned to the manager. “Have someone call the fire department, in the meantime we’ll call the elevator. We can see how she’s doing.”

His instructions were carried out without complaint, even if the manager looked a bit put out to be ordered around in his own hotel. But he, like everyone else, recognized John’s seniority in the situation. He wasn’t only the camera-shy Tracy heir, after all. He was International Rescue.

The manager led the small party over to the receptionist desk, followed by no small amount of obvious eavesdroppers, to connect with the elevator phone.

“Hello, Emma, are you there?” The young man, James, asked, his voice shaky.

The empty silence meeting James’ question had John sending Penny a grim look. Silence on the comm lines was never a good sign.

“Emma? Are you there?” James’ voice had risen an octave, and still no answer.

The manager was sweating nervously, having given up all pretense of authority. “What- what do we do?”

John calculated quickly in his head. The fire department was sure to be delayed with the traffic and thunderstorm conditions to contend with, during which time Emma, in the best case scenario, couldn’t catch her breath, and in the worst case, was already passed out- which would slot her with a possible head injury as well. John shook his head. It was hardly a decision at all.

“Where did her elevator stop?”

“Between the third and fourth floors.” The manager supplied.

“Penny, have Parker meet us on the fourth floor.” 

`*`

Parker arrived quickly, toting the leather bag he deemed to be his ‘lucky kit’. Elevator doors were harder to pry open than the movies made them seem, but one well placed ice pick and an impressive round house from Lady Penelope had the door open in moments.

John readied himself for the trip down to the elevator car. As far as civvies went for performing rescues, evening wear probably had to be at the bottom of the list. John removed his jacket, rolled up his shirt sleeves, and pocketed his cufflinks. 

He doubted he’d ever be able to wear the suit again after clambering down the oiled elevator cable, but he’d sure as heck try. Growing up in a Kansas farm house with four rowdy brothers meant he’d adopted his grandmother’s mentality of keeping nice things nice.

John wrapped his hands with strips of cloth- shredded dish towels, courtesy of the kitchen staff. It should help him grip the elevator cable. He stood at the elevator opening, eyeing the ten foot drop before turning back behind him.

“Are you coming, Lady Penelope?” The mission-like atmosphere of the situation had him switching to her professional title.

She shook her head. “Three’s a crowd, darling. I’ll wait here with James.”

John nodded in understanding. Best not to overwhelm Emma with too many people, and her brother seemed to be only just keeping himself from tipping over the edge into hysterics- he could do with Lady Penelope’s calming presence.

With a calculated leap, John jumped into the elevator shaft. He met the cable full on and clutched it tightly- reminded oddly of the rope climbing exercises in a high school gym class. His make-shift hand wraps did their job and John was able to climb down without  too much slipping. He unwrapped his hands from the now shredded material, called a quick okay to Lady Penelope upstairs, then dropped down through the top emergency hatch, landing neatly in the elevator car.

Flicking on a penlight, he illuminated the small space, taking stock of the situation.. Emma stood on shaky legs, slumped against the wall, fingers clutching the silver rail that ran along the length of the car in a white knuckled grip. She was wheezing desperately, and swaying on her feet, but still conscious- always a good thing.

John approached her slowly, not wanting to frighten her further. “Emma? You’re brother sent me. I’m International Rescue. I’m here to help.”

Her eyes darted wildly around at the walls surrounding her, before making contact with John’s. “I c-can’t… can’t breathe-”

“It’s gonna be alright. I’m John, I’m going to stay with you until the fire department comes.” John gently pried her fingers away from the rail and took her elbow,  leading her away from the wall and seating her in the middle of the floor.

John crouched down in front of her, meeting her eyes and directing her to cup her hands around her nose and mouth. “Now breathe in deeply from your stomach. Hold. Breathe out.”

It only took a few repetitions before John admitted to himself it wasn’t working. Emma kept breaking eye contact, and every time her eyes drifted to the walls she choked.

“It’s alright.” John soothed again as it happened for the third time. “Let’s try something different. Close your eyes.” If Emma couldn’t see the walls, perhaps he could convince her she wasn’t trapped. “Now, you’re not here anymore, you’re watching the sky. The sun is setting over the ocean.”

John channeled his inner Virgil, describing an island sunset in bursts of crimson and gold, waves reflecting warm sunlight before soft pink fades into the deep indigo of night time. Silver light pricks the sky, the stars revealed in swirling constellations, like fragments of the sun. The stars go on forever.

“And there’s a breeze coming off the ocean.” John said. “Match your breath. In… and out. In… and out.”

Minutes blended as John kept up the soothing narrative, his words smoothing Emma’s wheezing gasps into even breaths. Quite soon, help arrived, signaled by a thump from the ceiling, and things began to move in quick succession.

A firefighter dropped through the hatch like John had, checking they were both alright before fitting them with harnesses and winching them up one by one. As John was pulled up out of the elevator shaft he was greeted by- not a familiar face, but a recognizable one. After all, the news reports had been notoriously hard to avoid after she and Virgil decapitated the world's largest building.

“Chief McCready.”

The chief grinned and nodded, clasping John’s hand and hauling him onto solid ground. “Tracy.” A familiar name paired with a new face. “And here I thought you boys chased after trouble, but it looks like it might be the other way around.”

John’s civilian clothes, oil smeared and wrinkled, were a dead give-away he hadn’t been expecting this particular mission. He could see Grandma now, shaking her head and clicking her tongue, amazed at all the ways him and his brothers managed to ruin clothes, but not at all surprised that they did.

He allowed himself a small smile. “The job follows you around.” On duty or not, the calls never went unanswered.

The Chief clapped him on the shoulder, understanding the sentiment in a way only a first responder really could. “That it does.”

Their conversation was brief, the Chief dragged away by her duties and John by an overwhelmingly grateful Emma and James, both of which hugged him tightly and thanked him profusely.

When John finally had a moment to catch his breath, he caught Penny watching him, a hint of humor in her eyes.

“What?” He asked, her levity in his tone.

“Nothing at all. It’s just I can hardly believe this is who the tabloids call the ‘reclusive elite’.”

There was a brief moment of confusion before John realized with a start just how many eyes were on him. A whole crowd of obvious rubberneckers, both indiscreetly peeking at him and gaping unashamedly. And all John could do was laugh.

What could he say? He’d talked down an emergency victim, spoken with site officials, and was now standing there in filthy clothing post-rescue. He was in his element.

#irrelief #irrelief2020 #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2015 #eos-in-orbit #darkestwolfx #fanfic #john tracy #lady penelope #lou writes things