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gumnut-logic · 3 years

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Snake Bite (Part 1)

I wrote fic! For the first time this year. New fic! yeah, I know I have WIPs, but the muse was misbehaving and rebelling all over the place, so as you saw in a previous post (amongst all the amazing fanart, wow), I wrangled it and this is what I came up with. It’s not much and isn’t finished, but fic! I hope you enjoy anyway.

Many thanks to @scribbles97 and @tsarinatorment for the read throughs and support. you guys rock ::hugs you both::

-o-o-o-

It was a beautiful evening. The day had been hot, but the sun was waning and a breeze had picked up enough to disturb the cloying heat prologuing the cool desert night.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have stepped off the decking in a suit with a champagne glass in his hand, perhaps he should have left his explorations for another night when he could have been dressed appropriately, but Virgil was used to grabbing the moment and the inspiration when he could. Tomorrow was never guaranteed.

Tonight was a rare case. Lady Penelope had invited the Tracy family out to her station in the outback for an evening of entertainment. There were a number of notables there and Scott had been heard to mutter something about working holiday, but Dad had shushed him and promised to take some of the networking load.

It was times like these Virgil felt a little guilty. While he didn’t mind a party and it was certainly fun to socialise, he felt he didn’t have that suave business sense like Scott, his father and even to a certain extent, John, who hated parties at the best of times. Though if you gave John a long distance communication method and he could have anyone eating out of his hand. A skill Scott deployed on many a business occasion.

No, Virgil was more of the practical sense. Something broken, he could fix it, someone hurt, he could tend to them. Juggle the fallacies of business and the underhand agendas? He had no patience or tolerance. Besides, he had reliable feedback that he couldn’t lie to save his own life.

But whatever, he was good at what he was good at.

So, sometimes the quiet desert evening was more attractive than the bustling social scene inside.

He eyed a bird of prey circling far above and wondered vaguely what type it was. Thoughts of different birds on a different farm came to mind.

A sigh and he swallowed a sip of champagne.

The bubbles popped on his tongue.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have stepped out, dressed in a suit, carrying a glass of champagne, but the evening was picture perfect and the quiet so alluring.

He didn’t go far. While Australia had become more familiar since they had moved to Tracy Island, it was still vast, still had a reputation of being deadly to the unwary, and this was no Kansas farm.

The red sand under his feet glowed in the evening sun.

Sharp grass - learnt the hard way - grew in tufted spikes along the path, tiny flowers dotted between the rocks. Penelope had said that spring was on the region and that they might see some lovely flower displays.

Virgil fully intended on investigating as soon as possible.

The path rose a little as he climbed a hillock and he couldn’t help but look back over the ranch buildings to the glowing presence of Thunderbird Two parked on the far side.

He had brought her with him for two reasons, the first being in case of a callout. The second was more related to that business manoeuvring thing. The overt presence of an International Rescue vehicle, while never explicitly used in dealings, was useful as a reminder to those who may forget exactly who the Tracy family were.

Virgil’s lips thinned as he stared at his ‘bird. It was a Dad thing. One of the many new things his father’s return had introduced. Scott had never used IR as a business tool and Dad technically wasn’t, but there was a contrast between how Scott worked and how their father worked and there were lots of little things like this that made that obvious.

The fact the Thunderbird was high up on her struts and towered over the landscape was functional and strategic at the same time.

A sigh and Virgil took another sip of champagne before turning to once again follow the path up the hill.

He didn’t see what he stepped on, but he felt it.

Soft, moving, he had that split second of realisation that his foot had encountered something alive, a stumble to try and avoid hurting whatever that was, and he overbalanced, only managing to not faceplant in the dust due to many years on the training mats with Kayo.

He still landed in an uncoordinated mess in the middle of one of those spiky grass tufts.

It stabbed him through expensive fabric.

Ow.

And rocks. There were rocks.

Damnit.

Red dust coated his pants and suit jacket and there was a definite scuff on one shoe.

Whatever it was he had nearly squished, slithered off into the grass on the other side of the path.

It only took him a moment to connect the dots.

He’d stepped on a snake, apparently, a little one, but a snake.

In Australia.

The continent renowned for such deadly reptiles.

Aw, hell.

But Virgil was an experienced responder. There was no need to panic. He rolled himself off the grass, his eyes pinned to where the snake had disappeared.

The grass complained and stabbed him a few more times through his clothes, but he got onto his hands and knees.

Nothing obvious was hurting, other than all the needle pricks, so that was a good sign.

His dress shoes were more red than black, along with the nice charcoal suit pants. The sooner he got off the ground, the better, but the medic in his head was yelling at him.

He yanked up both pant legs and poked around his socks, examining his skin for breaks. Even then, he almost missed it.

Two tiny little pin pricks on the inside of his right ankle.

Shit.

The current locations of his family members flitted through his head.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

It was going to be absolutely fabulously newsworthy to have one of the Tracy brothers carted off in his own ‘bird simply because he didn’t look where he stepped.

The setting sun was still calmly gazing over the landscape, lighting everything up in gold. But it felt far more sinister now.

The breeze ruffled his hair.

Sitting in the dirt, knowing he shouldn’t move, Virgil sighed and thumbed his comms. Maybe he could minimise the damage.

“Gords, you got a minute?”

-o-o-o-

Gordon was having a great time.

If there was something he missed living on an island in the middle of nowhere, it was this.

Penelope had one soft hand on his arm and was smiling at him as several of her friends laughed at one of his jokes. The fact the stuck-up toff, Duke Butterfingers, looked less than pleased was just icing on the cake. He was definitely on Gordon’s scorn list after his snide remark regarding Sherbet versus his ‘real dog’ wolfhound blah-blah.

It appeared the dog was smarter than the owner.

But Pen’s girlfriends were great conversationalists and it was nice to talk to someone other than family or those with their lives at risk for a change.

Yes, it was proof that he needed to get out more.

The subtle twitch of his collar comms against his skin wasn’t to be ignored, however.

A hand on Pen’s hand. “Please excuse me a moment. Duty calls.” He did not bow. Well, not really, but the amused smile and the sparkle in Penny’s eyes made it worth it anyway.

Her hand squeezed his arm and let go gently. Her eyes didn’t leave him immediately. “Felicity, do tell me about your new parlour. I hear it is being featured in Great Homes of Britain?”

If her blue eyes hadn’t turned away at that moment, it would have been questionable as to whether he would have been able to leave. But leave he did, wondering which family member he had to torture in the future in revenge.

Finding himself a polite corner, he opened his comms and frowned at his brother’s worried voice. “Virgil? What is it?”

It took a moment, enough to grab Gordon’s attention a little more. “Virg?”

“I’ve been bitten by a snake.”

“What?!”

“I’m up the hill at the back of the ranch. I stepped on a snake.” I need your help. It wasn’t said, but it was obvious. “Don’t tell Scott or Dad. Yet.” That last was said a little tentatively.

But Gordon was already moving, running the list of dangerous snakes that could likely be found out here through his head. If anyone noticed him dash from the room, he didn’t really care.

Compression bandage. Immobilisation. “You stay absolutely still, you hear me?”

“I’m aware of the procedure, Gordon.”

The location of first aid kits in Penelope’s house was quickly overridden by the vast store of equipment out in the carpark in Two.

Gordon was in a full out run before he realised it.

The evening was cooler but still warm from the day as the sun still hadn’t gone down. Two loomed over everything as Gordon dashed between cars and dodged guard rails. Two parking attendants stared at him as he tore past, but he ignored them.

Reaching Two, he swiped a dance of finger code over his left jacket sleeve and a control hologram leapt up from the fabric. The keys to his brother’s ‘bird were a necessity he was ever grateful for in this moment.

The great green Thunderbird hummed to life and lowered on her struts, smooth as ever, down enough for her forward hatch to reach him. He jumped on board and was in the first aid lockers without a second thought.

The countdown in his head was predictably short as his comms went off only a few seconds later. That would be John.

Gordon ignored it and switched back to Virgil.

“Any idea what type of snake?”

“Small and brown. It’s all I got. Didn’t see it. Stepped on the poor thing.” A pause. “I’m sorry, Gords.”

“It happens.” He slammed the locker shut, grabbed a hover stretcher and linked it to his comms. He cursed the lack of his uniform and all its inbuilt necessities with it. The essentials woven into his suit jacket and collar comms were barely minimal.

A brief thought of moving Two to his brother faded quickly as he poked the pilot’s dash and Virgil’s location lit up. He wasn’t very far away at all and there was no room to park Two anyway.

No room in the Australian Outback? An oxymoron, but it would be faster to just grab his brother and throw him on Two.

It was going to be bad enough lifting off once.

He jumped back onto the hatch and lowered himself. Securing Two he broke into another run. “You know you’re not going to be able to hide this from Scott, Dad or anyone here? You’re going to hospital, bro, and Two’s the fastest way. No one is going to miss her launching.” He leapt over a fence, the hover stretcher darting to follow.

“I know.” It was a quiet and sad answer.

“Medical status, Virg. How are you feeling?” He peeled around the corner of the main building and fixed his eyes on a figure part way up a hill in the distance.

Virgil waved.

“Gordon, report! John says it was you who accessed Two. What are you doing?” Scott, as commander as ever.

A harsh breath as his feet hit the bottom of the hill. “Thunderbird Four responding to a medical emergency. One of Penelope’s guests has been bitten by a snake. Evac imminent.” Another breath as he finally made it to Virgil’s side. The expression on his brother’s face could only be considered despair. “Scott, we will need media management. Victim is high profile. We need to keep this on the downlow.”

A pause as Gordon set down the first aid kit. Virgil’s lips were tight as he pointed to the red and swollen twin pin pricks on the inside of his right ankle.

Gordon shoved open the kit and, without another word, grabbed bandaging.

Scott’s voice was sharp. “FAB. John is accessing Five. Victim identity?”

Virgil sighed and his shoulders dropped before he thumbed his comms. “Scott?”

“Virgil?”

“It’s me.”

-o-o-o-

TBC

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Virgil Tracy #Gordon Tracy

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mind-reader1 · 6 years

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Queen of Hearts (Ch.9)

Drake x MC (Emma Barnes)

TRR AU: What would happen if Emma loved Drake but had to marry Liam?

Catch up here

Warnings: None. Pure Fluff

Note: If you’d like to be added to the tag list let me know! Also I love talking with you guys about the chapters and story to please don’t be afraid to tell me what you thought! :)

Word Count: 2735

Summary: The first stop on the engagement tour is Fydelia, Madeline’s home! Will she be able to recruit her as a press secretary and Madeleine’s family’s support? Emma and Drake find a moment to themselves and she tries her best to teach him the waltz.

Chapter 9: I don’t Dance (Lee Brice)

I’ll never settle down, That’s what I always thought Yeah, I was that kind of man, Just ask anyone

I don’t dance, but here I am Spinning you around and around in circles It ain’t my style, but I don’t care I’d do anything with you anywhere Yes, you got me in the palm of your hand girl 'Cause, I don’t dance

Love’s never come my way, I’ve never been this far 'Cause you took these two left feet And waltzed away with my heart

Once he cleared the hall she went back into her room and started packing, it was the first day of the unity tour. She had just finished packing when there was a knock on the door.

“Maxwe- Bertrand?” She was surprised to see the elder Beaumont at her door. Now she was really glad that she had made Drake leave.

“I'm glad to see you're already packed and ready. Today is a very important day, it's the first stop on the unity tour.”

“Where are we going exactly?”

“Fydelia.” Emma laughed and looked at Bertrand whose expression didn't change.

“Good one, where are we really going?”

“We're going to Fydelia. It's an important stop, even more important since it's the first. It shows that you, Madeleine and Liam can put aside your differences and get along, and we're going to be recruiting Madeleine as your new press secretary.” Emma felt like she had walked into a nightmare.

Later that day in the boutique with Bertrand and Maxwell, Emma still hadn't wrapped her head around the idea.

“Of all the press secretaries in Europe, why does it have to be Madeleine?” Emma was getting desperate, she was willing to beg and grovel if it meant she didn't have to recruit Madeleine, her least favorite person in Cordonia.

“As you know Justin isn't an option because he was injured and is still in the hospital, he recommended Madeleine though. He was impressed by the way she handled the press during her brief engagement to Liam.”

“You have to admit she did manage to spin everything in a favorable manner.” Emma shot Maxwell a look, he was not helping her case. Maxwell being Maxwell however, took it in stride, he'd rather have Emma be upset with him for a few minutes than have Bertrand lecturing him about the impending doom of House Beaumont.

“If I must. I suppose it will be good to have her evil, snake charming powers working for me rather than against me.”

“Yes! The unlikely hero-villain team up against a greater threat.” Maxwell grinned.

“Exactly. She still holds much influence at court and is frankly far greater an asset than enemy.” Emma really couldn't argue with that, even if she tried it would be futile, Bertrand had made up his mind.

“This is all assuming we can convince her to help me. We never exactly had a close relationship, especially after everything that happened.”

“Precisely why you will need every advantage you can get, and why we are here.”

“A dress with the color of Madeleine and Adelaide's house. A dress as green as her envy towards you and as black as her shriveled heart.” With a flourish Maxwell pulled a dress off the rack. Emma grabbed the dress and slipped into the changing room. It was a club style dress, tight fighting so it hugged her curves but a halter, so it wouldn't slip while she was dancing. It appeared to be black with a patterned green lace over it, some of which extended past the end, just long enough to be classy. It was beautiful, as always.

“Don't forget this isn't only about Madeleine, you also must convince Adelaide to attend the wedding.” Emma brushed off Bertrand's concern.

“Adelaide won't take any convincing, if there's a party she's there.”

“Yes, but you will also need the support of Adelaide's husband, Madeleine's father which will be far more difficult.” Emma raised her eyebrows in surprise.

“Adelaide is married?”

“Duke Godfrey doesn't reside in Cordonia. He spends most of his time in England at his duchy.”

“The rumors at court are that Adelaide and Godfrey don't exactly get along.” Maxwell whispered as if someone may overhear.

“Which means his attendance at your wedding will be so important and hold a lot of sway, further into this tour.”

“So, do the impossible. Sounds like a normal day at this point.”

That evening Emma approached Madeleine's estate with her friends, but she hung back as they gushed over it, not feeling in much of a party mood.

“What's on your mind Barnes?” Drake fell into step beside her.

“What do you know about Godfrey and his relationship with Adelaide?” Drake sighed.

“Not much. Married for political reasons, as far as nobles go, he's as uptight and pretentious as they come. All he cares about is titles. My least favorite kind of noble.”

“Well I guess I have my work cut out for me then.”

“If anyone can do it Barnes, it's you.” Emma reached over and squeezed his hand, releasing it before they entered the ballroom which was…surprisingly empty.

“Wow, this place is like a ghost town.”

“Father mentioned that there would be a lot turn out. Fear is still high along the nobles after the attack on the palace and more recently the video.”

“They're afraid to be seen supporting the monarchy.” Drake scowled. He hated the idea that his best friend and love of his life had to put their lives in danger while the other nobles hid like the cowards he always thought they were. Scanning the room, Emma saw Adelaide speaking with Constantine and Regina, and a man with white hair, a permanent scowl on his face who she assumed was Godfrey as he took a seat right next to Adelaide.

“You'll win then over though, you always do. It's like magic!” Maxwell inserted himself into the conversation.

“It'll be easier to talk to them alone though.” Emma noticed Madeleine on the other side of the room, clearly not interested in the party. She approached Madeleine who properly greeted her for the sake of tradition.

“You've been greeted, could you leave me alone now, for once?”

“Actually, I needed to speak to you about something, an opportunity for you.”

“I'm sure it's of no interest to me.” Madeleine tried to leave.

“I want you to be my press secretary on this upcoming tour.” Madeleine stopped and turned, a satisfied smirk on her face.

“I knew it. You've come crawling back to me, begging for help because you've dug yourself too deep into a hole. Good luck getting yourself out. I'll be sitting at the top watching.” Madeleine hissed, and this time didn't stop as she walked away from her. Emma explained what happened to her friends and they decided to take a break. While they were getting some food, Drake accidentally bumped into Neville. Emma couldn't help but roll her eyes as she approached, he was amongst her least favorite people. He droned on and on while still managing to find a way to insult them all. Drake stepped in to defend Emma, some part of her loved that Drake would defend her even if publicly she was with Liam, but another part wanted to be able to elevate Drakes status so people like Neville would leave him alone. When Neville had the audacity to compare Drake to a dog she could see him losing it, Emma almost lost control of her own temper, it took all of her will power not to.

“He's not worth it Drake.” She whispered in his ear. As much as he hated Neville, he couldn't make things more difficult for her or his best friend and so he backed off, Emma was right. Drake had a feeling that Neville would get what was coming to him, even if that day wasn't today.

“We still need his support though. We need all the nobles we can get.” Hana said. The idea that Drake would have to watch Emma get married to Liam, knowing Neville would be in the crowd to mock him made his anger spike again. He needed a moment to himself and so he made a beeline for outside, hoping he wouldn't be followed. He turned when he heard soft footsteps, relieved to see it was only Emma.

“I'm sorry, I just needed some fresh air. I couldn't let my anger get the best of me. He was right, if I do something rash it only hurts you and Liam.” Emma gave him a sympathetic smile.

“For the record, I want to punch him too.” Drake chuckled.

“I don't suppose there's a metaphorical way I could punch him.”

“Maybe if you knew what fork was for what purpose.” Drake smirked.

“Guy like him, he'd know all that stuff. I did have one idea though.” Emma raised her eyebrows at him.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, something you could help me with.”

“What would that be?”

“Don't make me say it Barnes. You know what I'm talking about.” Emma really had no idea though, she shrugged.

“Dancing. Maybe you could teach me some fancy court dances.” Emma grinned.

“The Drake Walker is asking for dancing lessons?”

“I know. Can you help me or not Barnes?” Emma smiled and grabbed Drake's hands.

“Let's start.” He led her to a secluded part of the gardens under an arch filled with twinkling lights.

“Why dancing?” Drake sighed.

“We'll be going to a lot of balls, dancing is usually involved.”

“Neville got to you. Fuck what he thinks Drake.”

“It's not just Neville. I want to do this for you! For Liam! You guys need all the support you can get, and I can't be just the commoner friend who sticks around, I need to show them that I'm an asset.”

“Drake you don't need to change. You don't need to earn their respect to be helpful. I could never ask you to change for me.” He lifted her chin gently.

“I want to Barnes.”

“I love you Drake. Despite what anyone else thinks.” Drake kissed her gently and smiled.

“Okay, where do we start?”

“What do you know?”

“You know me Barnes, I don't dance. I know the starting position and that's it.”

“Let's start there then!” Drake gently placed his hand on her waist and grabbed her other hand with his, holding it out. She put her hand on his shoulder and slowly began gliding him through box steps, as she sped up, he struggled to keep up with her. His footwork became sloppy, almost stomping on her toes. Drake sighed in frustration, breaking hold.

“This is hard. You always make it look so effortless.” He ran a hand through his hair.

“That's because I'm not stomping like I'm part of some military marching band, you need to glide. Your movements need to flow together rather than stiff, and individual.” Drake just stared at her like she was speaking another language.

“Imagine you're dancing on glasses of whiskey, every time you stomp you break a glass.” Drake gasped.

“That's a tragedy Barnes.”

“Then I guess you better learn to glide.” It only took Drake a few more steps to finally learn to glide.

“Am I good? A perfect dancer now?” Emma smiled and shook her head.

“You still need to correct your frame, you have to hold it at all times.” Emma waited for Drake to find the correct frame.

“When you hold your frame, it helps your partner react to your movements accordingly.”

“Like this?” Emma pretended to be checking over Drake's frame and snuck in for a kiss. Drake immediately broke hold, falling into the kiss before pulling away.

“That's not the next move.” Emma giggled.

“You don't know that. You said yourself you don't know anything about dancing.”

“I've been around court for years Barnes, nobles don't go around kissing each other. That was a cheap move.” She winked.

“You loved it though. Anyways, my point was that you need to be able to focus through distractions. Your partner is trusting you to lead them through the dance, especially this next step.” Emma demonstrated and explained the next step before Drake took his place with her. Drake glided forward, and Emma took a step back, spinning under Drake's arm.

“What's the last step?” Emma grinned and jumped into Drake's arms, catching him off guard. She wrapped her arms around his neck and enjoyed the quiet moment together.

“As much I love this, what's the real move?”

“A simple spin.” Drake began twirling and Emma giggled until he lost his balance and they tumbled into the bushes.

“Aah!” Drake hissed and grabbed his shoulder. Emma rolled off him and looked at him, worried.

“Drake I'm sorry! Are you okay?” He nodded and let out a deep breath.

“I'm fine.” He pulled Emma back on top of him who wasn't convinced.

“Your shoulder, Drake.” He silenced her by kissing her. Her protests immediately stopped as his tongue slipped into her mouth.

“Drake? Emma!” Maxwell's voice forced them apart just as Drake's hand began wandering up her dress.

“We've been gone too long.” She whispered. Drake sighed and helped her up.

“Right here Maxwell.” They brushed each other off and stepped out from the gardens.

“What were you doing out here?” He looked them up and down.

“I was teaching Drake to dance.” Maxwell clearly didn't buy it.

“She was Maxwell.” Everyone dropped the subject.

“Thanks Barnes. I never wanted to learn because I didn't want court to change me. You've done it all though, you're going to be queen, but you're still the New York waitress that I fell in love with. If you can do it, then so can I. For Liam, for Cordonia, for you.” He gave her a meaningful look and she returned it, walking back inside to the ball behind Maxwell.

“Lady Emma!”

“Bertrand!” She mocked his rushed tone and waited for him to explain.

“I've been looking everywhere for you. Adelaide and Godfrey are alone, you should talk to them now.” Emma made her way over to Adelaide and tried to recruit her with no luck, she also had no luck with Godfrey, but she was able to figure out why everyone was so tense. It was something at least, she needed to talk to Madeleine again though, Bertrand would be furious if she didn't recruit her.

“Any luck?” Hana asked. Emma shook her head.

“I need to talk to Madeleine again, I know what's bothering them all.”

“I think that's going to have to wait.” Emma followed Maxwell's gaze to where Neville was asking Madeleine to dance. Emma's lips curled into a smile, Liam was nowhere to been seen.

“Let's show them how it's done Drake.” He looked at her wide-eyed and shook his head. “You want to give him the courtly middle finger, this is how you do it. You've got this.” Emma grabbed his hand and dragged him on to the dance floor. Drake took one look at Neville and his demeanor changed, he deftly began guiding Emma through the steps. She looked over her shoulder and saw him scowling at them, Emma turned back to Drake and grinned.

“We're definitely getting to him.”

“Guess he can't handle a little competition.” Neville grew increasingly showy, twirling Madeleine and gliding her across the dance floor, his scowl never leaving them.

“I think he's going to do something big. Can you do a lift?” Emma looked at Drake and was genuinely concerned, she wasn't going to ask him to do something that would hurt him. He nodded and met her gaze, he could do it. As the music crested, Drake lifted Emma by her waist and spun her as she threw her arms back, he gently set her down as the music stopped.

“That was amazing Drake!” Emma wrapped her arms around him and laughed as their friends rushed over.

“I guess she really was teaching you to dance. Stop holding out on me Drake!”

“Where'd you learn to do that Drake?” Hana joined them as Neville stormed over. Again, he tried to pick a fight with Drake and the others.

“Just because you did one waltz doesn't mean you belong here with us.”

“Why are you so threatened by Drake? It it because you know that no matter what you do in your sniveling life you'll never be as good as the commoner who took a bullet for the future queen.” Emma got in Neville's face and he took a step back sneering.

“That's the most ridiculous idea I've ever heard.”

“Really? Then why are you running with your tail tucked between your legs?” Neville huffed and walked off, at a loss of words.

“Thanks Barnes.” Before Emma could say anymore, she heard a commotion and turned to see what it was. Madeleine and her parents had begun arguing in raised voices.

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