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c-rose2081 · 3 years

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Chiffon & Steel

(or how Jeff Tracy and Penelope Creighton-Ward first met)

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Summer was in full swing on Tracy Island, yet somehow in the midst of oil fires, asteroids and hurricanes, they still found time to be together for a monthly barbecue. With Alan home for the long haul, it was ruckus as usual, the boys splashing about in the pool trying to dunk one another. Tin-Tin (growing up nicely, one could note) had found a spot to take in a bit of sun, while Kyrano and Ohana worked the grill. The Island had visitors today in the form of Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward and Aloysius Parker. The lady’s chauffeur had found himself a nice lawn chair and was reading the paper, while Lady Penelope sat with Jeff Tracy, overlooking the scene before them.

“I don’t know how you do it, Jefferson. Truly, I don’t.” Penelope mused, staring at the chessboard which was spread between them, “so much boyish fuss.

“Ah, but that’s the best part.” Jeff mumbled, still caught between moves. Sliding a pawn across the board, he grunted slightly in displeasure, “you always were better at chess then me.”

“Fathers doing I’m afraid,” Penelope sighed, taking said pawn with her knight, “Such a stuffy game, chess.”

“I still don’t know why you put up with that empty old house of yours. You really shouldn’t box yourself up so much.”

Jeff moved another pawn to try and counter Penelope’s impending check, and succeeded as the woman chuckled and tipped her head.

“You know this life isn’t for me, Jeff. The excitement of it all. My father would throw a fit if he ever found out what I’d been up to before we met. And can you imagine what the tabloids would say? The scandal.”

Moving her rook, Jeff once again grumbled and held his chin.

“Yes, I suppose he would. But you were so young then, Penny. You’re still so young.”

“I found my first gateway wrinkle the other day Jeff,” Penelope mused, kicking over one of Jeff’s pawns, “check.”

But the man wasn’t focused on the game anymore, rather the caged woman sitting before him.

“Penny, I remember those days before International Rescue like they were yesterday.” He insisted, causing sapphire eyes to glance up in surprise as the man half rose from his seat, “We chased stolen weapons through the Venetian canals and hunted for smuggled gold in Peru,”

“Jeff…” Penelope breathed, a flush of red coming

to her cheeks as the man continued, his hands waving in the air as his tone grew wistful.

“We jumped trains to avoid traffickers in India, sunk the boat of marine poachers in Argentina, and crossed borders in Mexico for crime lords. Don’t you ever miss those times?”

“Not particularly, no,” Penelope insisted, gasping as Jeff hauled her up from the chair. Having an audience didn’t seem to matter as he spun her dramatically on the concrete, causing a giggle to leave her throat.

“Come on, Pen. We danced salsa by firelight in Cuba. You remember,”

“Yes I do.” Swinging into Jeff’s chest as he wrapped his arms around her, Penelope rolled her eyes dramatically, “you held me just like this while you were madly in love with another woman, and with a son already on the way.”

The man giving a hearty chuckle as Penny shook him off, she straightened out her dress and folded her arms defiantly, “I hardly recall any of those moments being remotely good. Running for my life to avoid getting captured, tortured, or shot at isn’t necessarily a dream vacation. You haven’t forgotten the day we met, have you?”

“Of course not,” Jeff insisted, puffing out his chest with pride, “the boys at poker love to see the scar.”

Before the banter could continue between the pair, a harsh cough caught their attention. All eyes were on them, even Parker, who was watching from behind his paper.

“Sorry to interrupt, lovebirds,” Gordon mocked, sitting on the end of the diving board, “but are you going to let the rest of us in on this little song and dance, or do we have to guess?”

“It’s nothing,” Penny insisted, placing her hands on her hips, “just a reminding your father why I stay in my stuffy old manor,”

“Hardly. That day was the beginning of the beginning,” Jeff insisted, “you wouldn’t believe it boys, but when I first met Penelope, she shot me.”

The ‘what’s!’ That chorused across the pool deck made the commander of International Rescue grin in victory as Penelope held a hand to her forehead, blushing madly with embarrassment.

“You shot our dad, Lady P?” Alan accused, “why?”

“I wish I could say it was simply a lucky break on my end,” She admitted, “but it was your father who walked right into the middle of a war zone.”

“I didn’t walk into anything. I was in front of my hotel.” Jeff complained, “you were the one holding the rifle.”

“It was a .47 Phantom Striker. Top of the line back then.” Penelope insisted, waving a finger in Jeff’s face before jabbing him in the chest with a manicured nail, “and I still have it in the boot of FAB 1 if you want another something to show to your poker friends.”

“Alright, that’s enough. Break it up you two, this isn’t the place for a lovers tiff.”

It was Virgil who came between them, forcing the two adults into their separate chairs as Penelope steamed and Jeff continued to chuckle, “since you’ve made a scene already, you,” pointing at Penelope, “need to tell us how you managed to shoot dad.”

“It wasn’t on purpose,” the woman complained, “I was 18 years old, I’d only just learned how to shoot.”

“That's a bluff and you know it,” Jeff insisted, still grinning as Penelope sat back into the wicker seat with a nose huff of indignance, “I don’t know what they taught you at that finishing school, Pen, but it wasn’t how to hold a tea cup. Kyrano!”

Leaning over his shoulder to summon the man from the grill, he came over with a smile, spatula still in hand.

“Yes, Mr. Tracy?”

“Could you fetch a photograph from inside my office? The one inside the bottom drawer.”

“Yes of course, right away.”

“You didn’t keep that blasted thing did you, Jeff?” Penelope whined, “Oh please tell me you didn’t keep it!”

“Of course I kept it, Pen. It’s one of my fondest memories of you.” Jeff chuckled, taking the paper which Kyrano handed to him only a few moments later, “take a look boys.”

Crowding around the table still in their swimsuits, the photo itself was old and had worn edges and corners. The two figures in the photo sat in the back of a military jeep, surrounded by a landscape yellowed with dust. A younger looking Jeff Tracy sat on one side of the bed, his arm in a cloth sling and a youthful smile hidden under a dirty fedora. Penelope — still on the brink of adulthood in the picture — sat on the other side, leaning her weight on a long muzzled rifle. She too was smiling, but smaller, like the sun and sand had been physically beat into her.

“I’d been sleeping on the ground for a week when this was taken,” Penelope mused, shaking her head slightly as the image was passed from person to person, “it was my first solo assignment. It was supposed to be intelligence only, cut and dry. But a move had been made which my...hem, supervisors, weren’t expecting. So the plan changed unexpectedly.”

“If that’s the word you want to use for it, Penny.” Jeff chided, causing the woman to roll her eyes as the boys looked between one another.

“Well now you have to tell us the whole story,” Scott complained, “right guys?”

The group made noises of agreement as Penelope once again found herself blushing, watching the group gather around the base of the table like a primary school reading circle. Even Tin-Tin had caught ear of the conversation, and dragged her lawn chair across the pool deck as to be closer.

“Come on Penny, it’s a great story,” Jeff insisted, “and I know you tell it better then I do.”

“Oh...very well. I do love a captive audience.” Penelope insisted wistfully, “The year was 2047 I believe, and I had been in the small county of Asafar just North of Iran for almost two weeks…”

—

For those of you who saw the gif and thought I was stealing, that was 100% NOT my intention. So I took it off and am adding some stills instead. Thanks to the one who reached out and let me know so I could make the adjustment.

A/N: Thunderbirds 2004 has a very special place in my heart. I love Sophia Myles as Penelope, and I adore the flirty combo of Penny and Jeff portrayed in the film. This was written with that dynamic in mind ❤️

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #thunderbirds 2004 #lady penelpe creighton ward #jeff tracy #FanFiction #oneshot #film

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c-rose2081 · 4 years

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Fight for You [TAG Vintage AU]

[Pen & Ink]

Short companion piece to the last artwork on my profile. Gordon gets into a fight and Penelope is not happy about it.

——

“Gordon.”

Glancing up from his place against the wall outside Brackman Academy, Penelope’s blonde hair drifted in the gentle California breeze. Her pink skirt and five inch heels did little to slow her purposefully brisk pace, blue eyes focused sharply on him.

“Lady Penelope.” He greeted, standing up a bit straighter as she stood before him, scowling from under find blonde brows, “what’re you doing here?”

“I heard from Chrissy, who heard from Teresa, who was told by Harold Peterson that you’d gotten into a fight.” Penelope rattled off mindlessly, reaching up a gloved hand to push his head back and forth in observation, “look at the mess you’re in. I mean really, Gordon.”

Penelope elegantly removed a handkerchief from her pocket and snapped it like a fresh linen, dabbing at the cut which had opened on his left cheek. Abacus Cauldrrbad was a bastard and everyone at Brackman knew it. It felt good to finally have a shot at clocking him in the jaw, only to receive an equally impressive right hook in return. They brawled a little — more then a little, honestly, and Gordon had been the overall victor.

But it didn’t feel much like a victory, what with the way Penelope was still scowling at him.

“The guys a brat.” He said finally, shoving both hands into his pockets as Penelope made a small huff of an unclear emotion, “he deserved it.”

“Maybe so, but there will be consequences for actions like yours.”

Penelope wasn’t wrong. Gordon knew his father would be called (not like that was uncommon), followed by some sort of punishment — expulsion maybe, until his father pulled out the checkbook. There were enough witnesses to certify that Abacus would be punished too but his father was a foreign diplomat, so a slap on the wrist at most.

“I stand by my decision,” Gordon insisted after a moment of thought, wincing as Penelope hit a tender spot with her handkerchief, “guys an ass.”

“You’re normally so good at keeping yourself together,” the blonde answered swiftly, running a thumb across the black eye which was no doubt beginning to form from Abacus’ Family ring, “why would you do such a foolish thing in the first place? You know better, darling.”

“The guy can insult anyone and I wouldn’t care,” clenching his ratty, bruised firsts, Gordon let out a frustrated huff, “he can say all he wants about me and my family. But not about you.”

Watching as Penelope’s hand stilled from her work, Gordon wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting. A lot of girls would get worried about what was said, maybe be upset that they had been insulted in such a way. But Penny wasn’t like other girls. Her face went steely, and her eyes brightened in defiance as she finally stopped cleaning to place her hands on her hips.

“Gordon Tracy. Are you meaning to tell me you did something so utterly stupid in order to defend my honor?”

“You should have heard the things he said about you —“

“I don’t particularly care what was said, Gordon.” The girl insisted harshly, “words are harmless in the end. They don’t matter; certainly not enough for you to get into a fight over it.”

“But I wanted to.”

Reaching out his arms, Gordon took Penelope by the shoulders and shook her gently, “god, Pen, don’t you get it? I’d fight every day for you. He doesn’t get to say things like that.”

“You do know me.” Feeling a delicate hand on his chest, Penelope gave a single hard shove, sending Gordon back on his heels, “which is why you should know that I’m not a prize that needs to be fought for. I can fight for myself.”

“But Pen...”

“Listen to me,” Throwing up a gloved finger in warning, the Tracy boy shut his jaw and shoved his hands into his pockets again, “I am not a trinket that can be pawned, traded and fought over. I make my own choices, and I don’t give a damn what other people care to say about that.”

Watching the girl — woman — release a long exhale, her face softened up as she stepped into his chest, fiddling with the loose collar of his shirt, “I’ve chosen to be with you. And though you mean well defending my name as you did, this,” caressing his sore cheek with a palm, Penelope shook her head, “isn’t worth it. As such an incident like this will not happen again. Am I clear?”

“Yeah.” Wrapping Penelope into his arms, she returned the gesture with a smile as Gordon pouted, resting his chin on her head, “what do I do though? I can’t just let them tell lies about you.”

“Oh, darling you needn’t worry. I have Parker for these types of matters.” Hearing that mischievous chuckle leave her throat, Gordon felt love replace the anger and frustration he had been feeling since the fight, “give him the names, and he’ll handle the rest.”

“You know I love you, right?” Gordon asked, rocking them both back and forth as Penelope made a haughty noise, turning herself around so she was leaning into him back first.

“Of course I do, darling.” Glancing up at him, she winked and smirked, “being lovable is my job.”

#thunderbirds are go fanfiction #thunderbirds are go #cartoon #animated #fanfiction #lady penelpe creighton ward #gordon tracy #pen & ink #drabble #au

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