#slice of Tracy Island life

[gumnut-logic]

Sweetapple Slices - Slice 2

Sweetapple | Dear Mr Tracy | Along the way | Slice 1 | Slice 2

@idontknowreallywhy asked a question and I tried to answer it, but Alex and Virgil refused to behave, so we have a fic, but no answers. Also, fic is sugary sweet goop.

Oh, and it should be noted that all these Slices are standalone fics within the universe - consider them slices of life with these two :D

Many thanks to @onereyofstarlight for the read through. Again, I might need to offer her that dental plan. Also to @idontknowreallywhy for egging me on.

I hope you enjoy this romantic sugar fest.

-o-o-o-

“You know, isn’t all this stuff secret?” Alex gestured around him.

Virgil shrugged and tilted his head. “You looking to sell it to anyone?”

Alex’s eyes widened. “God, no! I wouldn’t-“

The rescue operative grabbed him by both arms. “Hey, I’m kidding. We know you wouldn’t do such a thing.”

Alex froze. “We?”

Those gorgeous biceps relaxed just a little. “You don’t think we let just anyone onto our Island, do you?” And he arched a lovely eyebrow.

“You have such beautiful eyebrows.”

Both suddenly shot up.

Oh, did he say that out loud?

Eh, blame it on the concussion…from a few days ago now. The Tracy family had shown no sign of needing to kick him, or his mum, off this amazing chunk of rock. Today Virgil was off rota and Thunderbird Two was set for regular maintenance, so he had been asked down here to ‘keep Virgil company’.

So far ‘maintenance’ had consisted of staring up at the great green Thunderbird, staring around her hanger, an extended session of smooching under her tail fin, and now he was sitting on the edge of Thunderbird Two’s co-pilot seat caught between stunned amazement and the percentage chance of another snoggy in the corner.

Any corner. There were at least four in the cockpit. Did that roof hatch open?

Honestly, he had never thought this would be his state of mind when he finally got to see all of this up close.

Of course, it wasn’t the first time he had been aboard Thunderbird Two. But last time had been sudden and unexpected and his brain had been fretting over so many things.

Now he was so happy he was likely to blow a blood vessel or something.

“Yours aren’t bad either.”

What? He scrolled the conversation back a little. Oh, eyebrows. Huh. “Never thought about them much. Yours, however, definitely require thorough consideration.” He reached up a hand, and hesitating for permission, brushed a finger the length of Virgil’s left eyebrow.

Chocolate eyes eyed him from beneath. “This is new.”

Be daring. “All of this is new.” He withdrew his hand.

“You have a point.” As if in revenge, Virgil reached up and brushed a tangle of Alex’s messy blond hair behind an ear. “I can definitely get used to it.”

He also had the most beautiful smile.

Okay, he had to stop this line of thought before he grabbed Virgil and really embarrassed himself.

“Um, yeah.” He gestured vaguely around the cockpit. “How long have you been flying Thunderbird Two?”

Virgil sat back a little and let go of Alex. “Nine years as her primary pilot. Took over from my Uncle in ‘55. Though there has been some downtime during that time.”

“And you keep her maintained?”

“Me and Brains.”

“Who’s Brains?”

Virgil’s lips twisted. “You haven’t met him yet.”

Oh.

“Don’t worry.” Virgil reached across the dash and flipped a few switches. “He tends to keep to himself. I’ll drag him out of his lab later.” His finger retreated to his jawline. “I think you’ll like him.”

“I will?”

“You’ll see.”

Okay, be mysterious.

“Would you like some coffee?”

Alex stared at him. “You’re really asking that question? Even after how many times I’ve managed to steal coffee off of you.”

Virgil smirked as he stood up. “It was really only once and you were very amusing.”

“Amusing!”

Virgil was laughing as he strode over to a corner of the cockpit, hit some buttons, and revealed the holy grail of all coffee.

Alex couldn’t help but stand up and be drawn to it. Virgil had given him the plans to this creation from heaven, but between Siliwrap and Virgil’s visits, he hadn’t managed to find time to finish putting it together yet.

Besides there was something about the coffee being handed to him by a visiting handsome rescue operative that was its own kind of addictive.

And Virgil always brought plenty.

His drug dealer of choice, apparently.

“Hey, you still with me?” A hand was on his arm and Alex realised he had been standing, staring at the holy grail like a stunned mullet just a little too long.

Virgil had that worried medical frown on his face again.

He had done that a lot over the last couple days.

The man had enough bruises on his arms and legs to pop Alex’s eyes out of their sockets - something about a roof almost falling on him during the Gisborne rescue. Yet Virgil brushed it off as a day-to-day thing.

He was ‘fine’, don’t you ‘worry’, happens ‘all the time’.

But the scattering of bruises Alex possessed, the headache that popped up every now and again, and any slight croakiness of his voice and Virgil was all over him with that yellow scanner thing.

Speaking of which…

Alex grabbed Virgil’s wrist gently as he attempted to wave a randomly appearing scanner over Alex’s head. “I’m okay, Virgil.”

The wrist in his hand relaxed and the yellow light switched off. A gentle tug and Alex let Virgil’s wrist go and the man turned away, stashing the gadget back into wherever it came from.

It was very obvious that Alex had scared him by being caught in the earthquake.

Alex took that extra step closer, slipped up behind, and slid his arms around the man’s chest, resting his chin on Virgil’s shoulder. “I’m okay.”

Heavy lifting arms wrapped around his. “I know.”

“You do realise you have brought me into the presence of the machine that makes your glorious coffee. I mean, I should be kneeling on the floor, bowing in reverence.” A smile. “Give me something to hold so I can drop it in amazement.”

Virgil chuckled. “I doubt you could pick me up.”

“Is that a challenge?”

Virgil twisted himself around in Alex’s arms until they were facing each other. “I could say that you already have, but that pun line is groan-worthy.”

Alex did groan, but then Virgil’s lips found his and he was suddenly very much distracted.

Yes, this corner would do nicely.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #alexander sweetapple #virgil tracy/alexander sweetapple #romance #nuttyfic

[kayothunderbirds142]

“I know it was you”

If there was one unspoken rule on the island, it was never to touch another's food, sure clothes and other items being stolen on Tracy island were normal, even if it annoyed certain residents. Although food was different, each member of the family had made their own at one point or another, being a secret stash of treats away from Grandma’s cookies or having a dinner already pre-made, thanking to their never ending unpredictable schedule. Each of the Boys had their own speciality when it came to food. Scott could make some spaghetti and meatballs, Virgil would make a mouthwatering grilled steak, John was very rarely down on earth, but when he was he would make something simple, such as mac and cheese or tacos. Gordon would always opt for his Hawaiian pizza with all the toppings to match his colorful personality, while Alan would stick to his classic pasta or his own spin on it. Jeff had his usual signature dish- his famous ‘Tracy pancakes’ he made for his family every Sunday morning to get them out of bed.

However, it had come as a surprise one afternoon, after a simple quarry rescue, when a slice of leftover Hawian pizza and a plate of spaghetti and meatballs had gone missing from the fridge. All the brothers had known never to touch each other's food at the risk of their wrath. Scott and Gordon had immediately thought it was Alan. Their littlest brother was often prone to wanting to eat their food, not having many cooking skills over the years, having been pampered by his older brothers for most of his life.

Alan was found in his room, having been given some down time after back, to back, to back rescues all week, ranging from space rescues of an out of control shuttle, to helping people escape a flood zone with Gordon and Virgil. Gordon had sat down on his bed behind him while Scott stood accusingly in the doorway, arms folded.

“Uhh, what’s going on?” Alan was confused by the way his brothers were acting, whenever the military bros were working together and acting accusingly, something was up.

“Well, we were hoping you could tell us Alan.” Scott stated bluntly, staring accusingly at the youngest Tracy however, Alan was bewildered. He had no idea what his older brothers were on about. It was clear to Scott and Gordon that it wasn’t Alan who had stolen their food. Alan had tell-tale signs of when he was lying or hiding something; Having basically been his primary caregiver for Alan for close to 8 years in their fathers absence.

Time was getting on though, Gordon had come up with the idea that he and Scott should hide in the kitchen, the villa has several hiding places, one of such in the kitchen, dug into the wall. Gordon had often used that spot to hide out before launching one of his infamous pranks on a member of his family. Nightfall came sooner than they had expected and they were waiting to see if the culprit would try again.

They had almost missed it. The movements of the person were

sharp; cat-like; a shadow as such. It was only when the fridge opened in the moonlight, they could see the outline of a figure; removing food from the fridge, a bit of Virgil's famed steak before dashing away as quickly as they appeared. Scott and Gordon looked at knowingly each other, they had finally solved their mystery; but they were tired. Scott had sent his fish brother to bed before silently creeping into his own.

Scott was up at 6 am, a little later than usual but that made no difference to him. He knew the resident he was after would be waking up in about 45 minutes in time for their morning routine that he knew well enough.

Scott knew that breakfast was normally around 8 to 8:30, with his father making breakfast today. The whiff of the pancake aroma was floating around the house. Scott knew he didn’t have much time to confront the suspect as he knew that after breakfast, they would not be easy to find until bed, and even then, they have no idea what the day would entail for them.

Scott walked down the hallway, gently knocking on the door before letting himself in. Kayo was sitting at her dressing table, putting the last hairpin in place in her tight high signature ponytail.

“You okay Scott?” Kayo didn’t need to even look at the door to know who it was.

“I know it was you, Kayo” he informed her “i know it was you who took the food” Kayo put on her innocent expression. She had lived with the family for practically her whole life, she knew how to fake innocence, it had worked quite a few times over the years when she knew she had done something wrong. She knew that she was their baby sister and knew that she had the ability to manipulate them into letting her off the hook just like they do for Alan.

“I don’t know what you're talking about, Scott,” she said, putting hairspray in. Scott leant on her dressing table to get her attention, it worked. “Kayo. Me and Gordon saw you in the kitchen last night”. Kayo set her things down and leant back. Assessing her options.

“Ok, yeah. You got me” Kayo admitted, folding her arms and leaning back against her chair.

Scott was about to say something to her when the com came to life

“Breakfast is ready, get your buts down here!” Jeff’s voice echoed throughout the villa. Scott and Kayo could hear the running of Alan and Gordon who always raced to be the first down.

“Well. I guess we better get down there before the terrible two get all the food” Scott joked, nudging his sister gently who had a tiny smile on her face before smugly walking out of her room in front of Scott.

#thunderbirds are go #alan tracy #kayo kyrano #scott tracy #gordon tracy #fabfivefeb #fabfivefeb2023

[whatgaviiformes]

Ficlet: Sleep, and a Rainy Morning

For @gumnut-logic, who wanted Virgil. I may be the newbie, but I am learning that is not too much of a surprise for anyone.

This might be boring - I don’t know are we cool with just following them around the villa for no reason? Hope so. Enjoy this quiet morning/slice of life with some H/C undertones. Also, coincidentally, this is exactly 700 words

_____________________

Virgil awoke to the sounds of rain tapping against the glass of the broad windowpanes that separated their island villa from the exposures of the tropics. It wasn’t the downpour they were anticipating last night when they closed all of the windows, at least not yet it wasn’t. So, he welcomed the soothing pitter-patter as his lashes fluttered his dreams away to make room for consciousness.

Sleep. Sleep was nice.

The organic progression to awareness was a welcome reprieve from the many days of aggressive transition from asleep to awake, prompted by too-cheerful-for-mornings brothers or by the shrieking of the IR klaxon. Into his pillow, he hummed a few notes of the melody dancing around in is head before he reluctantly rose, leaving the cloud soft comfort of the previous night behind to start his day.

The night’s sleep had quelled the soreness in his strained muscles, but it was hard to ignore the persistent ache that remained in his neck and shoulders from the tropical storm that decided to start an argument with Thunderbird 2 the day before. Hopefully, the incoming storm would be kinder to Tracy Island than she had been with Virgil and his girl.

Turbulence was a bitch.

Gently, carefully, he stretched, holding back the wince before he realized he was alone. Somehow, the groan seemed to help.

Once he cleaned up a bit and dressed, finding a white tee to accompany his pajama bottoms – the grey ones with the piano keys down the side - he made his way to the kitchen where the promise of caffeine lingered in the aroma of nutty coffee, freshly brewed. Scott would have made a full pot a few hours previous once back from his run - or rather, his date with the treadmill due to the rain.

The pot was only half full by the time Virgil greeted it, plenty for Virgil to fill his cup and come back for a second helping. He dug through the cabinet before finding his third favorite mug, which was a gift from John last Christmas. I’m sorry for what I said before coffee. The others must have been in the dishwasher with their dirty dishes.

The warmth of the coffee raced through ceramic to his fingertips, breathing gentle fire into his skin. He continued humming into the delightful, welcoming scent, letting the steam blend with the melody, as he walked into the lounge.

“…coming down on a sunny day,” sang a strained voice from the recliner.

“Huh?” The caffeine clearly hadn’t taken hold yet and the voice surprised him. The lounge had been so quiet he thought it was empty.

“The tune you’re humming.” Ah, so it was. “I don’t see any sun around here, Virg,” Gordon jested lightly. Tired Virgil was; oblivious he was not: the smile never reached his brother’s eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Virgil’s fingers twitched with the desire to assess and he knelt next to Gordon, running a hand through his hair to hide the fact that he was really checking his temperature. But Gordon was not oblivious either and he knew Virgil’s tricks, better than Virgil probably knew them himself.

“Oh, stop, Virgil. It’s just the pressure system.”

Virgil nodded in sympathy, but he did not fail to notice the heating pad peeking out from behind his brother’s lower back. The storm incoming would be wreaking havoc with Gordon’s sensitive back, probably already had been for a while.

“Do you want anything?”

“A new spine?” It was as close as Gordon would get to admitting the pain he was in and Virgil knew it. “No,” he sighed, “not at the moment. Just sit with me for a bit?”

“Sure thing, squid.” Sitting with Gordon was familiar. He knew the frustrated sighs of boredom, could pinpoint the exact tone of which sounds were signs of larger issues and which ones were exhaustion. Gordon would be ok. Eventually.

By the time Virgil’s cup was empty, Gordon’s occasional winces had eased into the steady breathing of slumber. Virgil checked the recliner’s positioning before nodding his approval, then retrieved a knit blanket from the couch to tuck around him.

Outside the storm had begun to rage. Time for that second cup.

#gaviiadastrafic #gaviiadastra #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #slice of Tracy Island life #is this even worth posting anywhere i am not sure #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds fanfiction #Gavii Scribit #ficlets and bits

[dragonoffantasyandreality]

Fanfic Writer Ask Meme A: Of the fanfic you’ve written, which is your favorite and why?

Thanks for the ask, @the-original-sineater Oooooohhh boy, this one's hard! XD

I think my favorite is the "Wonders of Tracy Island" fics.

Because it was based on my summer vacation trip on Kuril Islands last year, seeing all the beautiful scenery and the geology of the islands pitched an idea about what places could Tracy Island has in store. And its fun writing slice of life with the Tracys going around their home outside of their villa.😊

And all started with my very first dip in a hot springs.😁

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds 1965 #Wonders of Tracy Island #my asks #ask game #the original sineater #thunderfam

[willow-salix]

TAG MiniBang 2021

Because the combined bad influences of Flyboy and Sonata were at work here we also decided to bend the rules a little and post early...

I was privileged to work with one of my best friends on this project,  @misssquidtracy​ . We went a little rogue (seems to be a theme for us) and shared both parts of the challenge with both of us contributing to the art and the writing. Squiddy provided a beautifully done pallet knife piece as the background for my foreground art and we plotted the story together to ensure that it worked for both of us. We had been looking forward to sharing the writing but unfortunately, due to life constraints on her part she was only able to write a little of the fic but what she did add perfectly compliments the tone and style of my writing. 

Big thanks to @tagminibang ) @godsliltippy​ ) for organising this event.

So, here it is, our offering to the TAG Mini Bang. We hope you enjoy it. 

Ting ting ting

“Not again,” Virgil groaned, hauling himself up the stairs from the kitchen to the lounge. He regretted ever giving Gordon that bell, he really did. Yes his brother had gone through a tough time, yes he had scared the hell out of them when the Chaos Crew had left him at the bottom of the ocean in his mangled craft, yes they were incredibly grateful that he was alive and mostly whole, but if they had to hear that dinging one more time they might possibly murder him themselves. 

“Yes, Gordy, what do you need?” 

“I’m lonely, and I’m hungry, come and sit with me for a bit?”

“Sure-”

“But maybe make me a sandwich first?”

“A sandwich?” 

“Yeah, with extra cheese and a pickle on the side, not too large a pickle but not too small that it’s gone in one bite. I want to taste it, you know, but not be overwhelmed.”

“Sure-”

“And can you get me a drink too? One of my special milkyshakes, you know, with the ice cream and frozen banana in it?”

“Coming right up,” Virgil sighed, heading back down to the kitchen again.

“Gordon still demanding everything and anything?” Scott asked as he jogged in from the poolside. His T-shirt was sticking to his chest and his hair was damp with sweat but he still looked like he could do it all again. Not that they would have time, they were lucky if they got to do any planned exercise at all, usually they were forced to skip it and work out on the job when a call came in.

“Of course he is,” Virgil growled, slapping a slice of cheese on a piece of bread with far more force than necessary.

“What did the cheese do to you?”

“It’s guilty by association.”

“Ah,” Scott said, like that explained things perfectly. 

A few slices of chicken received the same treatment and Scott wondered if the meat had actually been dead when it arrived on the island or if Virgil had simply smacked it into submission so well that the chicken had flown clear into next week and arrived as sandwich filling.

“Can you fix his drink?” Virgil asked.

“Can’t gotta shower this off before Grandma accuses me of stinking up the place again.”

“Any excuse,” Virgil scowled. “It would only take you a second.”

“A second too long, bro, I’m escaping while I can and you’d be wise to do the same,” Scott said, heading for the stairs and freedom.

“How can I escape when Gordon needs help?”

“You’re forgetting one important thing,” Scott told him wisely. 

“I am? And that would be…”

“John’s home.”

Virgil snorted out a laugh. “He’s less likely to do it than you are.”

“No, you're misunderstanding me. If John’s home that means…” Scott let his sentence trail off into silence heavily filled with insinuation.

“Sel’s here,” Virgil finished triumphantly, catching on perfectly.

“Give that Tracy a prize,” Scott grinned, shooting triumphant finger guns his brother’s way as he headed up the stairs. 

And they said that John was the genius in the family, they hadn’t seen Scott at his most devious. Virgil wasted no time in yanking out his phone and texting the witch to come and take over.

“Here’s your sammich, Squidward,” Selene cooed, plonking the plate down on Gordon’s lap while smacking a kiss to his forehead. “Virgil started it but I finished it for you, Brains called him down to his lab with some kind of air filter emergency so I took over. I brought you some of those crisps you like from my private stash too.”

“The cheesy curl ones?” Gordon asked hopefully.

“Yep,” she grinned, waggling a family sized bag of Quavers in his general direction.

“Did you bring my drink?” Gordon asked around a mouthful of chickeny goodness. Say what you wanted about Virgil but he made a damn good sandwich, even if Gordon could taste that this was made with a little less love and a little more impatience than usual.

“No, sorry, did you want one? Virgil didn’t say that. I’ll go get you something, just wait right there.”

"Not like I can leave if the mood takes me," Gordon grumbled as he opened the chip bag. 

She was already gone, only to race back in a few moments later with a can of coke.

“What? What’s wrong, boo?” Selene asked when she saw the pouting look of disappointment on Gordon’s face.

“It was supposed to be one of my special milkyshakes,” he whined.

“Right, got it, my bad!”

She was gone again, taking off to the kitchen where, upon closer inspections, she did indeed find the beginnings of a milkshake. There were two scoops of ice cream already in the blender, melting in the warmth of the room. A half peeled banana sat abandoned on the counter next to a carton of milk. 

“Typical,” she groused as she set about breaking up the banana, pouring the milk and setting it to blend as she tidied the mess away. Once done she poured it into a tall glass, added a straw and a few slices of fresh banana to decorate the edges, just as he liked it, and delivered it to the waiting aquanaut.

“Great, thanks, Sel,” he grinned, handing her his now empty plate and swapping it for the glass. She put the plate on the coffee table and sat on the couch opposite him.

“Anything else I can do for you?”

 “Sit with me and keep me company?” he begged, looking so miserable and pathetic that she couldn’t say no.

“Of course I will.” 

Gordon swung his injured leg up and she moved to sit next to him on the couch, placing a cushion on her lap for him to rest his cast covered foot on.

Gordon settled down with a contented sigh, sucking happily on his straw, the milkshake level in the glass steadily dropping.

“I’m bored,” Gordon bitched five minutes later.

“That peace lasted a long time,” Selene laughed, putting her phone down on the side table to give him her full attention. “What can I do to help? Do you want to watch something or play a game?”

Gordon made a face. “You’re crap at games, Sel.”

One eyebrow rose in disbelief. “I wouldn’t exactly say crap…”

“You tried to play with Alan and died three times in two minutes, lost all your lives and were forced to float along behind him as a ghost for the rest of his turn.”

“Anything is crap when you say it like that,” Selene huffed. 

“Only when it’s true.”

“Tell me then, oh great games master, what do you want to do?”

“Nothing.”

“Then don’t moan you’re bored,” she pointed out.

“I mean there’s nothing to do. No one is around.”

Selene gestured to her chest. “Am I suddenly invisible?”

“No, of course not,” he scoffed. “That would be far too cool, why don’t you have witch powers like that?”

“Because I live in the real world, not a movie?”

“Lame,” he declared, dismissing it.

“Back to the original point that I am, in fact, right here. Therefore your comment that no one is around is redundant.”

“I meant no one I can do anything with.”

“Thin ice, bub, thin ice.”

“I meant like my brothers or someone. Alan is busy revising for his final exams, Virgil’s with Brains and I’ve no idea where Scott is but I think he’s avoiding me, which is just mean if you ask me. I’m a delight.”

“Yeah, you sure are,” she drawled, not sounding too convinced. “You’re also forgetting a brother.”

“Who?”

“John? You know, gorgeous ginger love of my life that’s chilling in his room right this minute? That brother?”

“John? No way.”

“What’s wrong with John?” she squawked indignantly. Her man was the most perfect of people, amazing and fabulous, just all round awesome. Although she might be a tad biased.

Gordon shrugged, scrunching his nose up in a ‘meh’ kinda way that said everything and nothing.

“No, come on, tell me what you meant,” she demanded.

“No offence, Sel, but John’s a bit…”

“A bit what?” she asked, her tone warning him that he was in very dangerous territory.

Gordon, with the grace of an elephant and confidence of a man that knew he was injured and therefore wouldn’t get slapped, plowed on.

“A bit boring.”

“Boring?!” she hollered, her voice travelling to the four corners of the island so effectively that Alan lifted his head, wondering if some distant God was echoing his thoughts as he slogged through his history homework.

“How very dare you!” Selene continued, working up a good glare that Gordon was completely immune to. He simply sipped the last of his milkshake, smacked his lips and raised an eyebrow, daring her to do something about it.

“He is not boring.”

“Matter of opinion,” Gordon shrugged, handing her the glass to put down on the table. 

“Right, that’s it, you can besmirch my fun factor but I will not allow you to do so to my man. That’s a step too far.” She gently, for which he was thankful, shoved his leg off her lap and dragged his hover chair over from its spot beside Virgil’s piano.

“Get the hell in, hoppy, we’re going for a ride.”

-x-

"You deal with him, he's driving me nuts and pissing me off at the same time."

"Me? I'm the very picture of perfection, I could never drive anyone nuts."

John declined to comment on that one for fear of never stopping, he had twenty-four years worth of stories after all. 

“The pissing you off is subjective too,” Gordon finished triumphantly. 

"He's your problem now," Selene announced, shoving Gordon's hover chair further into the room before making her escape, slamming the door shut behind her. 

John closed his eyes, praying for patience. His fiancée was well known for her legendary patience when it came to pampering and mothering his family whenever any of them were sick or injured. She'd spent almost every day with Gordon since his run in with the Chaos Crew and had done so with relentless cheer, for her to have given up now was not a good sign. 

"What did you do?" 

"Nothing!" Gordon protested hotly.

"Are you sure?" 

Gordon averted his gaze, suddenly taking great interest in a dust particle dancing across the shaft of sunlight filtering in through the window, "Yes, I'm sure. I wasn't doing anything. That was part of the problem."

"Ah," there it was. "Is there anything I can do to help?" 

"I'm so bored," Gordon wailed. "And your girlfriend is being mean to me."

"Fiancée," John corrected him, not looking up from his work. 

"It's not my fault I hate sitting around doing nothing all day. I’ve gone from a physically and mentally intensive, fifty plus hour a week job, to sitting on my ass from dawn until dusk. Can you blame a guy for getting twitchy?"

"Unfortunately, you don't have much of a choice at the moment," John reminded him, quite needlessly he thought. 

"Gee, thanks for the reminder," Gordon huffed, trying to cross his arms although the cast and sling he was sporting prevented it. That just seemed to annoy him even more. 

"I can't do anything right now! How do you do it?" 

"Do what?" John asked, squinting through his magnifier at the small window frame he was carving from a piece of polymer clay. 

"Just sit around all day."

John raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "I don't sit around all day."

"OK, float around then. It's not like you're actively running around like the rest of us are."

"I'll pretend I never heard you say that," John scowled, wishing Selene had dumped his brother into the sea instead of into his quiet, peaceful room. 

"You're sitting around right now," Gordon pointed out, gesturing to the desk John was  sitting at, which was currently doing double duty as a work table for his latest project. 

"One day you'll learn to appreciate the benefits of a quiet, occupied mind and a still body," John told him. 

Gordon sighed, propping his good elbow on the desktop, his chin resting in his upturned palm as he watched his brother fiddling with tiny things that seemed utterly useless to him. 

"What are you even doing?" 

"Working on a series of book nooks for Sel's side of the bookcase," John answered, sounding slightly distracted as he measured the finished window against its place in an intricately carved brick wall. 

"Why?" 

"Because she likes them."

"I mean why are you making it? Can't you just buy her one? It's not like you can't afford it."

"Where's the challenge in that? Besides, things are always more special when you make them yourself."

Gordon yawned and leant forward to rest his head on the tabletop. 

"Do you want to help?" John offered, although honestly Gordon's version of helping was always patchy at best. 

Gordon scooted closer to look over John's shoulder, eyes darting over the rectangular box that he was building the nook inside. About the size of two thick books sandwiched together, the nook already had a little cobbled street and two shop fronts in place. The tabletop was scattered with a selection of impossibly tiny screwdrivers, picks, scalpels and other instruments of possible torture that he couldn't hope to name. 

"Pass," he announced decisively, flicking the control of his hoverchair so he spun in a wide circle, pointing to the door. "I'm out."

"Peace at last," John sighed, flicking his magnifier back into place over his right eye as he set aside the window to be baked later and reached for a fresh blob of clay. 

-x-

"What ya dooooooing?" Gordon yodelled, slamming the bedroom door open so hard that it smacked into the wall and shook several picture frames. He scooted his way into the room without even waiting for an invite. 

"Gordon!" John huffed, clutching his heart where it was trying to leap out of his chest from the shock of his brother’s sudden, and very noisy, entrance. 

"Hi, I got bored, thought I'd drop in on my favourite big brother," Gordon grinned as he glided his hoverchair closer. 

"Are Scott and Virgil busy?" John asked, that would be the only reason Gordon would have promoted him to his favourite. 

"Yes," Gordon admitted, "but that's not the reason why I'm here."

John turned his head to shoot him a raised eyebrow of doom, clearly communicating without words that he didn't believe him in the slightest. 

"So, what are you doing?" 

"Working on this book nook," John replied patiently, holding up the small cauldron he was crafting. 

"The same one?" 

"Yes."

Gordon’s eyes nearly fell out of his head, "Still? It’s been four days!"

"Yes," John hissed out, starting to get frustrated by the constant questions. 

"Why?" 

"Because it takes a long time. If you're going to do a project you should do it right."

"At the speed you're going it's gonna take forever," Gordon snorted, casting an assessing eye over the work John had already done. 

"That doesn't matter," John assured him. "It's not really about the time it takes or the end result, it's about the process, the journey to get there."

"Sounds lame to me," Gordon yawned. 

"Obviously," John drawled, rolling his eyes. 

"What do you mean by that?" Gordon demanded to know, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. 

"Because it's you."

"Hey! Rude."

"Accurate," John said, placing the little cauldron down and selecting another piece of clay which he placed on a ceramic tile. 

"Why?"

"Because it requires a calm mind. It's good to slow down sometimes and just be still."

"Says the console jockey." 

Console Jockey? He did not just say that!

"So you don't think my job is stressful? Or as tiring and important as yours?" John snapped, wondering if it was bad form to smack your injured brother around the head with a partially constructed book nook. He glanced at the nook, he had put a lot of work into it… It would be a shame to waste it. That thought alone saved Gordon. 

“Well, yeah I get that it might be a bit stressful, but it’s not like you have to do much that puts you in danger, not like us,” Gordon continued, digging his hole even deeper, a hole that John was looking forward to shoving him into.

“We all have our specialities, you couldn’t do your job without me doing mine,” John retorted, trying very hard not to let Gordon’s comments get to him. Gordon would never understand what it was like for him to be stuck so far away from the action, away from his brothers when things were going wrong. 

Gordon, thankfully for him, had been unconscious from the moment he had activated his emergency code. He hadn’t heard the frantic calls going out over the comms as the family mobilized to help him.  He hadn’t heard the desperate scramble as Thunderbirds took off, racing to the scene. But John had heard it all. 

John had been the one to stay on the line with Gordon, talking to him the entire time, knowing that he probably wouldn’t hear it but feeling that he needed to say it all the same. He wanted to know that if his little brother regained consciousness for even a second he would hear a familiar voice, that he would know that they were coming, that they would rescue him. He would know that he wasn’t alone.

 He knew what it was like for people that were in danger, knew the comfort they got from someone talking to them, listening to their stories, being there for them verbally if not physically. John was often the one that spent the most amount of time with those they rescued, keeping their spirits up as much as possible until his brothers got there. 

His brothers were seen by their rescuees as the real heroes, the ones that leapt in and plucked them out of danger, but John was the one that got them that help, the one that made sure the rescue played out as best it could, liaising and coordinating until the job was done. But Virgil, Scott, Gordon and Alan were the ones that got the thanks , the ones that got the hugs after they dropped their charges off, not John. 

Not that he minded too much, he knew that his job was just as important as theirs, maybe even more so because, when someone put out that call for help, when they sent their desperate plea out into the world, they deserved to know that someone would always be listening out for it, that someone would hear and that help would come.

He knew all of this, and he knew that Gordon did too, it was just the frustration of inactivity that was making him say the things that he was. John just wished that that knowledge made it easier to listen to. 

“I might not be doing the physical rescuing,” John continued, feeling the need to push his point home. “But I work just as hard, when you’re home you’re off duty until a call comes in, you can relax, swim, watch movies and laze around until you’re needed. When I’m up there I’m on duty 24/7 and even when I do manage to catch some sleep it’s not deep or particularly restful. Any little noise, any call that triggers the system's keyword algorithm gets transferred automatically, I have to go from asleep to awake in seconds to take it.”

Gordon was quiet for once, watching him closely. John didn’t like it, it made him feel like an exhibit in a zoo. And here we have the little seen Tracy, see how he stays inside his hide and hardly ever ventures out… he knew how they saw him, why they likely thought he had the easy job. 

“These help, they give me something else to focus on. I need to keep my mind active and challenged while still trying to relax.” John paused, trying to think of a way to explain his thinking that Gordon might understand. 

“These are almost like a meditation,” he started. Gordon understood meditation and finding your zone. “Creating something out of almost nothing. It keeps my mind focused, helps with finger dexterity and hand eye coordination with the added bonus of it relaxing me. It’s good to slow down and take some time to do something creative, you should try it some time.” 

Gordon listened to his brother and he tried to take in all his words, he tried to understand the meaning behind them, he really did, but it just didn’t make any sense to him. He understood about wanting to be lazy, to sit around and do nothing sometimes. He loved to laze on the couch with his snackies and an Into the Unknown marathon playing out on the holoscreen, but that was watching something exciting, interesting, to him that was relaxing. This...whatever it was that John was actually doing, made no sense whatsoever to him. The idea of trying to relax by actually thinking...that was the most alien concept of all. 

Gordon knew, probably better than his family gave him credit for, what it was like to be mislabelled. Within every sibling pool, there were the mandatory roles: the serious one, the caring one, the smart one, the funny one, the calm one, the angry one, the one who sang in the shower, et cetera. He’d proudly embraced the role of ‘the funny one’, and had diligently flown the flag for the humour camp for as long as he could remember. If a brother came home from a rescue in a slump and needed a cheery pick-me-up, it was Gordon who stepped up to the task, irrespective of his own mood. His smile and laugh were infectious, and he had yet to encounter a frown he couldn’t (eventually) turn upside down.

But with every ‘role’ came misconceptions. Scott was serious, therefore people were quick to automatically assume that he was a killjoy.  Similarly, John’s intellect and preference for solitude often went hand in hand with him being branded antisocial, since there was apparently no possible way someone could enjoy their own company so much, yet still pursue and maintain meaningful relationships with actual people.

Gordon was no stranger to this treatment. He liked to laugh and be spontaneous, and consequently, was often regarded as the Tracy who didn’t take his work seriously, the Tracy who had the attention span of a gnat (albeit a very handsome one), and the Tracy who couldn’t be trusted with anything that required delicacy, be it physical or emotional. His affinity for making people laugh, though an exceptional quality, frequently acted as a double-edged sword. On the one hand, his relentless optimism made him the most effective of the bunch when it came to emergencies involving children and young adults. On the other hand, it sentenced him to a fate where the bad jokes he cracked would always be two steps ahead of the secret deep thinker that lay within.

“Let me see it again,” Gordon sighed, trying his best to be a supportive and understanding brother, since he did feel a little bad about the things he had just said. He hadn’t meant to say them, they had just come out. That was the trouble with being laid up from an injury, not only were you out of action but you were in pain, and pain made you grumpy and less likely to monitor the things that came out of your mouth the way you should.

He knew that John worked hard, hell he knew that what his brother had said was right, John was never truly off duty. They were all aware that he didn’t get enough sleep, enough down time, enough time to relax and just be. They knew that if John was on Five he would consider himself on duty, at work, and therefore he’d never allow himself to take time out. Things had changed since Selene had blundered her way into his life, now he spent a lot more time on the Island, which meant that he was finally taking some time out for himself. If one of the ways he chose to do that was by crafting ridiculously tiny things out of clay to stick in a hollowed out box that was his business. Gordon wasn’t there to judge, he was there to spend time with his brother.

John moved aside a little so Gordon could get a closer look, trying to resist the urge to smack his hand away every time Gordon reached for a tiny piece that had taken him hours to perfect. 

“These are really small,” Gordon mused, poking at a window that John had just finished painting, leaving behind a smudged fingerprint. “Woops, sorry, Bro.”

“Maybe you should try making something of your own,“ John suggested, carefully removing the window from his brother's possession and picking up a brush in order to attempt a fix.

Gordon nodded and John passed him a ceramic tile and a miniature rolling pin. 

“How about you try cutting me out a few shop sign bases?” John suggested.

“Do I get one of those scalpel things?” Gordon asked, a little too eagerly for John’s liking.

“Maybe we can work up to that,” John hedged, subtly moving the scalpel out of his brother’s reach and passing him a square cookie cutter. “Use this cutter for now.”

Gordon shrugged and spent a few minutes rolling and squishing the clay trying to get the thickness to the exact measurement that John insisted on. It wasn’t easy or fun.

“Nope!” Gordon announced, giving up and pushing the tile away. “It’s still boring. Pass.”

He swung his hoverchair around and headed in the direction of the door. “Later, Bro.”

“Oh...OK...later, I guess,” John stuttered, wondering just what he had done to deserve such a chaotic family as his.

“Oh, hey, boo, where are you go- WAHH!”

John’s head shot up as Selene’s yelp rang out from the hallway.

“Sorry!” 

“So you should be, you little shit,” she grumbled to his retreating back as she thumped into the room.

“What happened, love?”

“Let’s just say that if his chair had wheels I’d have lost a few toes,” she said, wincing in imagined pain. 

John scooted his desk chair back and patted his lap in offer, one that she happily accepted.

“So, why was Gordy doing his boy racer bit? What did you say to him?”

“Me? What makes you think I said anything to him?”

“Because I know you two?” 

“Fair,” he sighed, sliding his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. “I don’t know what to do to help him.”

Selene turned her head to look at him, not liking the helpless look on his face.

“Babe, you are helping him, you’re there to keep him company or talk to him if he needs it, that’s more important than anything. What happened to make you think that you weren’t helping?”

“He was asking me about these again,” John nodded towards his work area on the desktop. “But he didn’t seem to understand, that or he just didn’t want to.”

“He’s Gordon,” she sighed. “You know what he’s like, he’s full on, he’s in your face and he’s not at all subtle. Taking his time with things just doesn’t compute with him.”

“It would do him good though, if he doesn’t learn to embrace it he’ll be exactly the same as he was last time.”

“Was he really that bad?” she asked, concern lacing her voice. 

John nodded. “He doesn’t do inactivity well. When he had his hydrofoil accident his therapist talked him into signing up for a virtual college degree in Environmental Management of Rivers and Wetlands. It was supposed to take him at least a year as a part time course with ANU in Canberra, but he blew through it in the first semester and earned himself a distinction for his insights on the impact of Anthropogenic Noise on Wetland Habitats. His professor was so impressed he offered him a fully funded PhD, citing his time with WASP and the time he spent in the bathyscaphe as practical experience that would make up for his lack of degree. Obviously he turned it down, but he still likes to rub our faces in it now and then.”

“Wow,” Selene breathed. “Forget his professor being impressed, I’m impressed.”

“He has a phenomenal brain,” John said, a small but very proud smile on his face. “When he actually decides to use it to its full potential, that is. There is nothing he can't do when he chooses to focus on something, he’s all in. It really helped him to feel like he was gaining something and moving forward even though he was sitting still.”

Selene nodded, understanding completely. She knew that all of her boys were wicked smart, but Gordon always presented himself as the least academic. He was more of a doer, wanting to be out in the field, learning as he went, diving in head first to every situation. 

But as Selene and John both knew, appearances could be deceiving.

“If that’s what helped him last time, then we need to find a way to convince him to try something new,” Selene insisted. 

“I tried, he’s not interested.”

“That was with your things, babe. We need to find something that’s a little more him, and I think I know just the thing.”

-x-

“I have arrived!” Gordon yodelled, announcing his entrance in his own unique way. He slid his hover chair in through the open door like the boss that he was, bringing his shining presence in to brighten up his middle brother's obviously dull existence. “Didja miss me?”

“Like a hole in the head,” John grumbled, turning to look at the grinning face of his brother. His eyes immediately began to water as they were assaulted by the far too bright colours of the shirt Gordon was wearing, a tie dyed monstrosity that Selene had made for him for his birthday. 

“A little more gratitude, if you please," Gordon huffed. 

“Grandma finally released you?”

“Yep,” Gordon stretched out his injured leg and patted the air cast on his now slingless arm. “Got time off for good behaviour.”

“I find that hard to believe,” John teased, then nodded to Gordon’s arm. “How’s it feeling?”

“Not too bad, my grip still isn't great but Grandma promised me that once the bone has finished knitting I’ll just need to exercise it and build the muscle strength up, then it’ll be as good as new.”

“That’s great, it won't be long before you're able to go back out with Virgil and stop, how did Sel put it, 'haunting the house like the ghost of Christmas future'?"

"Can't come soon enough," Gordon sighed, butting his chair right up close to John's, knocking his arm in the process. "What you do- you're still doing that? Still? It's been a week!" 

"It's not like I get a huge amount of down time," John pointed out. "I'm only here now because Sel said she'd dump me if I didn't make an effort to come down earlier in the evenings so I could actually eat a meal with you all."

"You actually believed that threat?" Gordon laughed. 

"Of course not, she'd never dump me, but I thought I had better humour her and let her feel like she at least had a little sway," John shrugged, pushing aside the little piece of doorstep he had been painting. "Honestly, it's nice to come down for a meal and family time, I hadn't realised how much I'd missed it until it was happening again."

"I guess we all got a bit too caught up in International Rescue after we lost Dad," Gordon admitted. 

"Like we had nothing else in our lives," John nodded, completely understanding. 

"Yep."

Gordon fell silent and John let him, concentrating on mixing the perfect colour acrylic to add a few highlights to his stones. 

"Can I have a go at making something? I bet I could do it quicker than you," Gordon asked, reaching towards what Selene called the sharps tub. John smacked the lid down on it just in time. 

"Actually, we got you a present."

"You did?" Instantly distracted, Gordon sat up straighter, excited by the prospect of a gift. "What did you get me?" 

This," John answered, opening his desk drawer and extracting an interestingly shaped bottle, upright with a thicker, rounded bottom and a thinner neck, ending a cork stopper. 

"Wow, is that an original?" Gordon asked, taking the bottle carefully and turning it to  study it from all angles. He knew exactly what this shaped bottle was, there had been a collection of them in Commander Shore’s office that he would stare at every time he got called in for some reprimand or another.

"19th century," John nodded. "Sel found it in a little shop in Mayfair. They assured her it was a genuine, used on a ship, captain's decanter from around the time of the civil war. They hadn’t fully traced it when Sel bought it but they think it came from one of the ships that fought in one of the smaller skirmishes around 1861.”

“This is really cool, thanks,” Gordon smiled, still turning the bottle over and over.

“It’s to hold this,” John continued, drawing Gordon’s attention back to him.

Grinning, John delved back into his desk drawer and pulled out a rather faded and quite dusty box. He brushed the dirt off the top and slid it over to Gordon. 

"A ship?" Gordon frowned. 

"Yep, Selene and I thought that you needed a little project of your own, so she had the idea to get you a ship in a bottle. You don’t see them a lot these days, but apparently her Grandfather had a couple and they always fascinated her.”

“So you put the ship in the bottle?”

“Yep, instructions are inside, go nuts.”

“Pfft, instructions,” Gordon snorted. “No one needs instructions, they’re a waste of time.”

-x-

“Ouch,” John hissed, hopping in place on one foot as he bent down to pick up what looked to be a tiny piece of mast that had attacked the sole of his foot. “Gordon, why are there bits of ship all over my floor?”

“Because I dropped them,” Gordon replied, his voice muffled due to the tongue of concentration that was peeking out from between his teeth.

Huffing, John gathered all the pieces off the floor, both pieces of ship and bits that they had been cut out of, and deposited them on the desk next to Gordon.

“How’s it coming along?” John asked, settling in his own chair. He’d only been gone a day but Gordon had managed to take over the entire bedroom, spreading his belongings, bottles, snack wrappers, his phone and a discarded hoodie, all over the place, as well as half the contents of the vintage ship box.

“It’s ridiculous. I think it’s missing pieces or something, it’s broken.”

“Well it was an old kit, but we were assured that it was complete,” John frowned, sliding the tray over that Gordon was supposed to be storing all the pieces in. “Have you checked the contents list and matched each piece to make sure they’re all there?”

Gordon looked at him blankly, like he was talking a foreign language.

“Did you check that everything was there before you started?" John elaborated.

“Of course I did,” Gordon promised, crossing his fingers and hoping his brother didn’t see. 

“Against the list?” John clarified.

“I eyeballed it, OK?”

“Not good enough,” John insisted. “That’s not how you go about doing things like this, you can’t just slap them together and hope for the best.”

“Why not?” Gordon whined. It worked for him in almost everything else he did in life. 

“Because this happens," John gestured to the mess surrounding them.

“Fine, I’ll read the damn instructions.”

Leaving Gordon to it John slid his almost completed book nook over and picked up his paintbrush to start adding some finishing touches before he started on the wiring for the lights. He’d barely done more than five minutes when Gordon started huffing.

John waited a little longer, trying his hardest to ignore the ever increasing sounds of frustration and impatience from his brother. In the end he couldn't stand it a moment longer, he had to ask the most loaded question ever.

“What’s the problem?” John asked, pushing his own work aside.

“These instructions don’t make sense,” Gordon bitched, flapping the paper in John’s face. “Look at the little picture here, you have to stick this little pole into that hole in the deck but the deck doesn’t want to stay together and that piece there keeps sliding and the pictures make no sense.”

“That’s because you missed around eight steps in between,” John told him, praying for patience. 

“No I didn't, I followed the pictures exactly,” Gordon insisted. 

“The steps aren’t in the pictures,” John explained. “See right there?” he pointed to the words above the pictures. “The pictures are a diagram of each finished stage, not how to get there. They are for reference only, not instructions.”

“Urghhh, this is going to take forever,” Gordon pouted, crossing his arms. “What’s the point?”

“The point is that by the end of it you’ll have something unique that no one else does, something you can be proud of and know that you built with your own two hands.”

“I’m not sure it’s worth the effort,” Gordon muttered.

“It is,” John promised. “I’ll help. How about I read out the instructions and you follow along? We’ll get through it quicker that way.”

Gordon wasn’t convinced, but John looked so hopeful that he didn’t have the heart to refuse him, especially since he and Selene had gone to so much trouble to get the things for him in the first place. He might be a miserable little sod, but he wasn’t that ungrateful. He knew that they had gone out of their way to get something they thought he’d like, the least he could do was make the thing, even if he knew he wouldn’t enjoy it. Maybe John was right, working together they could get through it quicker, and that could only be a good thing.

“Alright,” Gordon agreed, “let’s give it a go.”

Slowly, methodically, John read out each piece that was needed and Gordon located them, storing them neatly in a wooden box that Selene provided when she popped in to bring them drinks an hour or so later. She stayed just long enough to steal a kiss from John and drop one on the top of Gordon’s head before she beat a hasty retreat, not wanting to get roped into helping. She wasn’t the best at following instructions and didn’t want to get grumped at.

By the time they had all the pieces checked and catalogued they had discovered there were indeed two pieces missing, but thankfully they were easy fixes, just a small , round piece of wood to represent a porthole, which they could easily make a replacement for and a piece of mast. One snipped toothpick later and that was sorted too.

John started with the first set of instructions, reading them out patiently as Gordon found and fitted them together. 

“So, how’s work been?” Gordon asked, like a chatty hairstylist, as he carefully dipped the end of a thin dowel into a small pot of wood glue. 

“Same as ever,” John deadpanned, “a bunch of idiots that got themselves into trouble and needed help, and only half of them related to us.”

Gordon sniggered, glancing at John, seeing the sly smile on his brother’s face. He’d forgotten just how amusing John could be when he delivered something sarcastically witty with such a serious tone. Gordon hadn’t realised how much he’d missed it, wondering just what his more serious brother would come out with next. John was always like that, he seemed so quiet and reserved but, when he was relaxed and in company he was comfortable with he’d take you by surprise by letting loose a zinger that you couldn’t help but laugh at.

“Let’s not talk about work,” Gordon suggested, “we haven’t hung out properly in ages, you’re either up in Five or there are other people around.”

“Is that your way of saying you’ve missed me?” John teased.

“Maybe,” Gordon allowed, “but if you ever tell anyone I said that I’ll deny it and tell Grandma you want her to make your birthday cake this year.”

John held his hands up in surrender, although he couldn’t hold in the laugh that bubbled up as he reached for the instructions again.

“OK, let’s get this done before we stop enjoying each other’s company.”

They worked slowly but steadily over the next few hours, putting together the structure for the first mast. Once it was done they called it quits and abandoned it for another day, the smell of something tasty coming from the kitchen proving to be too much to ignore.

-x-

 “Gordon, that’s my finger.”

“Oh, sorry, can you just like… I don’t know, yank it off?”

“If I wish to leave half my identifying fingerprints behind, yes.”

“Do you really need them?”

John didn’t dignify that with an answer, the look he threw at his brother communicated his thoughts perfectly. 

“OK, OK, I’ll get some dissolver from Virgil’s studio, wait right there,” Gordon instructed him, grabbing his crutches and hobbling his way out of the room. 

John sighed, keeping his hand perfectly still, the hull of the boat dangling from his fingertip. He was still there five minutes later when Gordon clumped his way back in, Selene hot on his heels. She had the glue dissolver under one arm, a large bag of chips under the other and a plate of sandwiches in each hand. 

She dumped the plates on the desk, then the chips, before turning to see the state her fiancé was in.

“Do I even want to know?” 

“Probably not,” Gordon winced, dropping down into his abandoned desk chair and reaching for a plate.

“Can you at least help me before you start stuffing your face?” John asked, waggling his hand, which made the boat sway violently from side to side.

“Can’t, eating,” Gordon mumbled around the massive mouthful he had just taken.

“What did I say?” she demanded to know. “No hurting the hands, you know how I feel about that.” 

John wiggled his fingers again, drawing her attention to his plight. He looked so pathetic with the half built little ship swinging from his hand that Selene took pity on him, intervening when he looked like he was about to grab the thing and yank it off himself, fingerprints be damned.

“Oh for the love of the Gods, let me do it!” Taking his hand she used a paintbrush to smear glue dissolver around the area of skin it was stuck to. She took her time, rewetting and using the brush bristles to push the dissolver under the boat, trying to  ease it free from his skin with minimal pulling.

“Thank you,” he sighed, sitting patiently while she worked. Thankfully it didn’t take her too long, although it took a lot of cursing under her breath and the odd ouch from him to get there. 

“One boat,” she announced, placing it triumphantly on the desk. 

“Fanks,” Gordon said, spraying chip crumbs as he did so.

“Welcome,” she said, brushing at her leg which had unfortunately been in splatter range. Still holding John’s hand she bestowed a kiss to each of his abused digits before releasing him. 

“Right, I’m out of here. Play nicely, you two, I don’t want to have to send Grandma in to babysit you both.”

“It won’t come to that,” John assured her, reaching for his own sandwich. “We’ve not got much left to do now. We just have to attach the rigging to the masts, check that they fold properly then insert th-”

“I’m out, I don’t need to hear anything about insertion, not after you just glued a boat to your hand,” Selene declared, her exit swift and to the point, the door shutting firmly behind her.

“She has a point,” Gordon admitted, swallowing his last bite. He pushed the chip bag in John’s direction, although there was barely more than a handful and a few crumbs left in it. 

“But we’ll never admit it to her face,” John insisted, steadily munching through the large sub she had brought for him. 

“Never,” Gordon agreed. 

-x- 

Gordon sighed dramatically as he crutched his way down the hall from his bedroom. John’s bedroom door was open but his brother wasn’t inside. The ship, now fully rigged, sat beside the bottle on the desk, just waiting to be placed inside once some sand had been poured in as a base. Gordon had chosen all different shades of blue to represent the sea and had even watched a few videos on how to do sand pouring art, something he’d never expected to find even remotely interesting, yet he couldn’t bring himself to go in and make a start on it.

John had barely been home the past week and when he had it had only been for food and enforced sleep. Even then he had been known to sneak out of bed the second Selene was asleep, being discovered on numerous occasions sitting at their father’s desk until the small hours working on this, that or the other. 

Emergencies, and therefore the need for their services, had seemed to increase three fold, something Selene was blaming on the moon phase and mercury going retrograde and, for want of a better explanation, they were all inclined to agree. There was no rhyme or reason for the surge in idiots that were calling in at all hours of the day and night with trucks caught under a too low bridge causing a pile up, hands stuck down toilets, drunks climbing to the top of electricity pylons and repair men getting trapped inside ATM machines they had been fixing.

His brothers had been on the go near constantly, whether it was from rescue call outs or working on their plan to find their father,  but none more so than John. While Selene had always been good at what she liked to call Tracy Wrangling, none more so that when she was dealing with a stressed out Scott, even she had admitted defeat and left them to their own devices. Self preservation was key after all. 

John had been dealing with not only rescue calls and Chaos Crew sightings, but signal tracking, GDF liaising and general hoop jumping, all of which had kept him far too busy.

It had been over a week since they had done anything to their project and Gordon was feeling the loss. Not so much of the project, although that really had helped with his frustrations at his lack of physical ability, not that he would ever admit that to John, but in spending time with his brother.

Much to his surprise he’d found that he was reluctant to work on it alone, it had become their thing to do together. It was a time where they would hang out, shoot the shit, reminisce about childhood memories, times that they had spent together talking about their hope for the future where they would find their father alive and bring him home.

Both of them knew that it wouldn’t be easy, that if they did manage to find him there would be no telling what physical or mental state he would be in. Gordon knew from experience just how tough physical injury, limitations, and recovery could be on the mind and the body,  especially in someone who had been as active and viril as Jeff Tracy. 

They all knew, although no one seemed to want to talk about it, that as hard as it was going to be to actually locate him and hopefully bring him home, that would only be the beginning of what could potentially be an incredibly long and difficult journey of rehabilitation and reintegration into the family and the world as a whole. 

John had been right, taking some time to be quiet, to slow down and think while keeping your mind and hands busy really was a productive way to spend your rest hours and, stupid as it sounded, Gordon didn’t really want that to end. 

He was only a week or two away from potential cast removal and a return to physical activities like his beloved swimming and strength training in their home gym and, while he couldn’t wait to get back to it, he knew he’d feel the loss of his enforced quiet time. 

He glanced again at the abandoned ship on the desk and turned away, clumping down the hall towards the stairs. So it would take them a little longer to get it finished, Gordon was fine with that because for once he wasn’t feeling the need to rush.

-x-

“Remember to pour it slowly,” Gordon instructed as he held the funnel in place, its long pipe reaching right down into the bottom of the jar. “Start with the darkest one, that’s going to be our base colour.”

“I’ve got it,” John assured him, selecting the tub of midnight blue sand and scooping some out into a smaller pot to make things easier. At Gordon’s nod he began to slowly and steadily pour the sand into the open neck of the funnel. As he watched Gordon expertly directed the tube, allowing the sand to pour out to pool in the bottom of the bottle.

At Gordon’s signal John stopped pouring and waited while Gordon carefully removed the tube and used a long metal skewer to poke and prod the sand into something that looked vaguely like waves.

“The next colour up,” Gordon requested and John did as he was asked. They repeated the process four more times with different shades of blue, John pouring in a little at a time, Gordon directing the tube to deposit  more in one place than others, mimicking the movement of sea waves as best they could. In between each layer Gordon used the skewer to poke and mix the colours here and there, blending the layers into a smoother transition.

“That’ll do,” Gordon said confidently, twisting the bottle so John could see the full effect. 

John had to admit that he had been pleasantly surprised when Gordon had announced that he had ordered some coloured sand and looked up how to do sand art on the internet. He hadn’t really known what to expect, although he would admit, if only to himself, that he had thought that Gordon would be a little heavy handed and impatient, but once again he had proved him wrong. He really had done his research and the result was a beautiful mix of colours that really did give a perfect impression of a gently moving sea.

“That’s looking great.”

“I know,” Gordon grinned, modest as always. “Where’s that resin gone?”

“Here,” John answered, pushing it across the desk towards his brother. “Make sure you read the instructions and measure the amounts accurately or it won’t set and you’ll ruin the sand and the bottle.”

“Yeah, yeah I got this,” Gordon assured him as he did indeed read the instructions through properly. Once he had familiarised himself with the ratio of resin to hardener, he measured carefully and poured them into a mixing jug. Once it was fully mixed he slowly, gently, poured the mixture a little at a time into the bottle on top of the sand. With each little pour he waited for the resin to trickle down between the grains, slowly adding to it until all the sand was covered. 

“And now we wait,” John said, carefully placing the bottle in the patch of bright sunlight coming in through the window. 

“Wanna watch a movie?” Gordon offered casually, not really expecting his brother to agree. John hardly ever watched anything with just him, they had vastly different tastes in movies and John usually made some polite excuse to escape.

“Sure, sounds good.”

“Really?” Gordon goggled, his eyes almost falling out of his head. “You don’t have anything more important to do?”

“More important than watching a movie with my little brother? I don’t think so,” John grinned, retrieving Gordon’s crutches from where they were leaning against his bookshelf and tossing them to him one by one. “Come on, last one to the lounge picks the movie.”

“Hey, no fair!” Gordon yelled, scrambling to his feet as he fumbled with his crutches. “You’ve got legs like a giraffe and neither of them are broken!”

“Sucks to be you,” John tossed over his shoulder as he took off down the hall to victory.

-x-

“Careful,” John warned.

“I am being careful,” Gordon snapped. “I got this.”

“Your hand’s shaking.”

“Thanks for that, Captain Obvious.” He steadied his, only slightly shaky, hand by propping his elbow on the desk for stability. “OK, let’s do this.”

They both held their breath as Gordon maneuvered the body of the boat through the opening in the bottle, making sure each sail stayed carefully folded down and the strings remained untangled before he fed it down the neck and into the bottle.

“Phase one, complete,” John intoned in such a serious voice that Gordon couldn’t help the laugh that he snorted out.

“Pass me those long nosed tweezers?” Gordon asked, holding out a hand.

John slapped the requested instrument into his brother's hand like a nurse in an operating theater, provoking another burst of laughter.

“Thanks.” 

“Welcome.”

Making sure the strings of the sails were still dangling outside of the bottle, Gordon carefully moved the body of the boat further down into the bottle with the metal skewer until the stern touched the top of the resin and sand layer. 

“Now the sails,” Gordon whispered, hardly daring to breathe as John moved in to help, taking over the holding of the strings while Gordon reached in with the tweezers.

Gently, working together, they started the delicate process of tugging gently on each string, unfolding the paper sails and locking them in place.

“String one.”

“Got it. Watch number four sail.”

“Yep, thanks...OK… can you just give string five a little pull? Perfect.”

“Sail three is flopping!”

“Gah, hang on, just got to tighten that...yep that’s got it.”

“Maybe if I gather…”

“Yep, that’s good, do that again.”

“This next bit is going to require a delicate touch, maybe I should-”

“Hey! I can be delicate!”

“It’s not coming up...back sail two is stuck, release it...careful!”

“There, saved it.”

John gently pulled the strings a little more and there it was, their ship, sails proudly upright and everything. He kept hold of the strings, while Gordon held on to the boat with the tweezers as they carefully lifted the bottle from its side to its proper upright position.

Using the skewer John maneuvered around Gordon’s hand and nudged the boat into a better position before he carefully released the strings. They both held their breath, hoping and praying that the sails wouldn't collapse the second the strings fell. 

The boat, with its sails, stayed strong.

“Yes!” Gordon cheered, holding up his free hand for a high five, grinning when his brother’s palm smacked against his own.

“Scalpel,” Gordon joked as John handed it to him so they could lop off a little of the trailing strings. Then, using the skewer, they arranged the strings around the edges of the boat. 

With the boat finally upright and in place, they added another layer of light blue coloured sand with a sprinkling of white to mimic the tips of the waves. They finished it off by pouring in a little more resin, both to set the sand and hold the boat in place, using the tweezers to make sure it was correctly positioned.

“Phew,” Gordon breathed, leaning back in his chair and stretching out his cast covered leg. “We did it. Go team.”

“We did,” John smiled. “And it looks damn good.”

“It really does,” Gordon agreed, shifting his head to look at the bottle from all angles. 

“Nothing left to do but let it dry and put the stopper in,” John said. “How do you feel now it’s done? Was it worth the time?”

“I still think we could have done it a lot faster if you’d just let me skip a few steps in the instructions and do it my way, but it wasn’t that bad,” Gordon admitted. “I’m oddly proud of it.”

“You should be, you did good,” John leant back in his chair, crossing his arms as he relaxed. “Are you going to stop teasing me about my book nooks now?”

“Pssh, no,” Gordon snorted. “Ships are cool, yours will always be boring.”

He didn’t see the bottle of water coming until it was too late.

-x-

Gordon walked straight to John’s room from the infirmary,  feeling oddly free without his crutches and casts. Six weeks was a long time, after all.

The bottle with its little ship sat exactly where they had left it in the center of John’s desk next to the abandoned book nook that was still not finished. It took him very little time to insert the cork stopper and pour a little of Selene’s spell bottle sealing wax around the top, a bright, cheery yellow wax that matched his beloved Thunderbird Four.

He smiled as he thought of his little craft, waiting down in her dock for him, ready to be taken out when the next call came in. It had been a long and frustrating time but finally, blessedly, that time was over.

He poked an experimental finger into the wax seal, checking that it had set properly. It had, and he couldn’t help feeling a little sad about it. It had been a project that at first he’d had very little interest in, but slowly it had turned into so much more. Not just something to wile away a few hours but a chance for him to reconnect with the brother he spent the least amount of time with. 

Years ago, back when he had been small, John had been his everything. When Alan had been too tiny to be of any use and Scott and Virgil had been too old to be bothered with him hanging around, it had been John that had been there for him. It was John that had patiently listened as he read aloud from his sealife books, who had watched movies with him, played with him, and spent the most amount of time with him. Back then, their three year age difference had seemed like so little but so much at the same time, an older brother that made him feel wanted and included when the other two saw him as an annoyance.

Gordon couldn’t quite put his finger on when things had changed, when they had slowly drifted apart. John had seemed to grow up so much faster than he had, Alan had welded himself to his side, looking up to Gordon as he had to John  and things had never been the same again. 

It had been too long since they had been able to just hang out, to laugh, to tease each other without things going too far and one of them getting annoyed. It had been nice and Gordon had realised that he didn’t want to go back to nothing but hollocalls to Five when an emergency came in or the odd family dinner and movie night where he had to share with the rest of the family. John was the only brother that Gordon didn’t spend one on one time with as standard and he realised that, no matter how much he might blame it on John being so far away, in reality it was as much his fault as John’s.

Gordon picked up the bottle, leaving a box in its place. The model kit of the Mercury Project space capsule and its launch pad had been hard to find even with his junker contacts. In fact, he had almost given up and  admitted defeat before he'd thought to look at the label on his ship box and sent the shop owner an email.

Smiling to himself, knowing that there was no way John would be able to resist that challenge, he took the finished bottle, with its little ship, to his room where it would take pride of place on his bookshelf, a constant reminder that even in the worst of times, positivity could still be found.

“Thanks, Bro.”

#tag mini bang 2021 #tagminibang2021 #Gordon Tracy #John Tracy #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirdsarego #thunderbirds fandom #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds fanart #TAG Mini Bang 2021 #TAGMiniBang2021

[thunderbirds-are-fab]

7, 8 and 17 😊

7. What's an episode you tend to skip?

I don’t really hate any episodes of TAG, but the one episode that comes close is Impact, for reasons that I’ve had lengthy discussions about. Basically, they bungled Ridley O’Bannon’s second appearance into a plot that frustrated me and made me hate her for acting in a way I thought was out of character for her job description for the sake of plot, and everybody got mad at EOS for no reason when she was just trying to help. I don’t like seeing the code baby being sidelined, especially knowing that they criminally underused her in Season 3.

8. Would you want to live in the 2060 portrayed by TAG?

ABSOLUTELY. It’s so nice to see a future version of our world that has HOPE in it, but realistically done. I didn’t expect a kid’s action adventure show to give that angle, but it does it really well. I’m sure I’ve said this before in a post that of course I can’t find now that I need it god dammit, but TAG makes an effort to point out the things that were wrong in the past, our present, and why they do things the way they do now in their 2060.

We destroyed the great barrier reef, and Helen Shelby restored it. We had another World War (or “global conflict”), and now military organisations work together to protect people again instead of fighting each other. We polluted the world, and oil rigs and heavy metals in the sea and trash in the ground are being cleaned up by technology we made to solve those problems that we caused.

The original 1960s series was great, but it was very much a world of it’s time. Same setup as the real world, just with commercial rockets and nuclear powered ovens in our kitchens. TAG took into account the less than perfect world we have today and gave us a version where everything turned out for the better because we worked hard to make it better. That’s an amazingly honest and motivational message for them to give their young target audience, and they really didn’t have to include it but they worked it into the whole universe of the show seamlessly.

17. Was there anything you'd have liked to see in the show that they didn't?

I literally have a meter long post sat in my drafts that’s been half written for months just about things I wish TAG had shown us and questions that got left unanswered. I really need to post that some time.

In particular, I wish they’d shown us more of what happened before and after the events that we saw in the show. I know that a lot of fans got insanely hyped for the tiny mention we got of Lucille/Mom, and any time Jeff’s past achievements were brought up. Whole fanfics have been written based on the tiniest nugget of canon history lore. Establishing a history for the characters that you’re watching right now makes them feel bigger, more grounded, deeper, more 3D... however you want to put it. It would also really have helped with incomplete characters like Kyrano, The Mechanic and the Chaos crew especially. Where the heck did those guys come and go from?

As for after, I really mean what happened after Jeff came home beyond he hugged his sons and they gave Alan a graduation ceremony on the spot. Did Captain Taylor and Colonel Casey come to see him? How did the world react? How did he react to the world after being totally isolated in space all that time??? I would really have loved it if ITV at least did some ‘slice of life’ at home on Tracy island 30 second webisodes to answer stuff like that, but it probably wouldn’t have been a good enough use of their budget. Oh well.

#thank you so much! #i've wanted to talk about these things for ages

[melmac78]

Of leather tooling and love

(Tag mini bang 2021)

Here’s my story for @tagminibang. I want to thank @tracybirds for their amazing art and working with me. Also, I thank them being extremely patient with learning about leather tooling and for adapting to the time zone difference to get this put together.

(I added my own art piece - “John’s” astronomy cuff… mark I, and will link directly to tracybirds’s art when I can fully figure this out).

•••••••

John Tracy was mad... so mad he was making an indelible mark that would take forever for someone to wipe away or cover up.

Fortunately it was leather, and he was tooling a design so no one would really want to cover it up, but he still was at points surprised he wasn't punching holes in the design… or the table.

A chirp however made him question the latter.

“John, please do not hit the table so hard. You are making my processors overload,” gently scolded EOS as the man was swinging the rawhide mallet.

While fortunately her interruption didn’t make him miss, allowing him to add to the octopus design, John set the leather tools down and sighed. “I’m sorry EOS,” he said gently.

“I accept your apology, but I do not understand why stamping cowhide will help your anger,” said the AI.

“As I said, it’s leather tooling, and it’s better to use my anger for something creative,” John said quietly.

“Even this … item?”

He looked at the cuff he was working on again and gave a half smile. “Even this wallet,” the astronaut chuckled.

After giving EOS a task to do, reminding her not to adjust the gravity back to zero to avoid any spills from his work, John looked at the project again.

He sighed, understanding his curious “data child’s” curiosity. Leather tooling, while a bit outdated in some people's eyes, was one of the few learned talents and gifts he still had from his Grandfather as well as his Dad.

And - it reminded him of Gordon, in good and bad times.

Gordon… his brother with the wacky sense of dress.

The aquanaut preferred to wear on average two leather bands and then a woven smaller band with the first two oyster pearls he found.

That's why he stopped - at the moment, it felt as though if he took out more anger on the mallet and metal stamping tool, he was hurting Gordon. Triple if he managed to hit it so hard it tore through the damp leather.

Who knew Gordon’s penchant for being the only one to wear leather wrist bands would save his life?

A week and a half prior... he chose to wear two broader bands on one arm and his usual one on his other.

They were nearly the width of a cuff, with designs that took forever to explain to EOS. It was an unusual decision, but one that the brothers were thankful Gordon made.

They had been called out to a rescue - a skyscraper fire in Houston, and all land based brothers had been called as it required high rise rescue.

Gordon had been on level 70 of the building, rescuing an unconscious woman. He had secured the victim in with his harness and started to use the pulley to get them to the top of the building for Thunderbird to lift them to safety.

An explosion had knocked them for a loop, smashing Gordon into the building.

Gordon took the brunt of the hit, slamming into the frame.

In spite of the helmet, he too was knocked out. Worse, the grapple slipped, and glass shards, still stuck in their mounts, sliced down his forearms.

It cut the neoprene... and through part of his thick leather cuffs.

When they recovered both victims, Virgil and John immediately triaged the two. She had a minor concussion and smoke inhalation.

Gordon however not only too had the bump on the head - thanks to the helmet taking the brunt, he also a dislocated shoulder, and a few cracked and broken ribs.

But what was the immediate concern at the time of the rescue was his arms, particularly the wrists. They took the brunt of the damage.

The leather bands however, saved his life. They made what would've been life threatening - if not fatal, slashes on his wrist to mostly superficial cuts.

The bands though were completely destroyed as far as wearability. Virgil would have to apologize for cutting them completely off - but not why - later.

Gordon was taken to a hospital in Houston's esteemed Medical Center, where he went through multiple surgeries, a few pints of blood, and lots of rest.

That was a week ago, as Gordon had a healing rib rebreak, nicking his lung. It was repaired, the bleeder stopped, but Gordon had to be put under sedation for a couple of days to ensure the site healed.

Though they had lifted the sedation the day prior and were waiting for Gordon to come out of it, the family would have to wait couple of days before he could return to Tracy Island.

That lead to where he was today.

John sighed, and looked around Thunderbird Five.

He had been practicing some leather tooling at University of Houston's art department.

That was before a space rescue needed both him and Alan, and afterword, he stayed on Five to keep apprised of a possible hurricane.

Well that and have an excuse to decline another lecture invite from NASA.

John was thankful that U of H understood his need for privacy, and that having a PhD in Aeronautics and Space allowed him some special favors.

The positive it included the use of one of the art studios to leather tool...

The negative? The trade off was as long as he also donated one of his famous astronomy tooled leather cuffs for a fundraiser.

He had already finished the band for the auction two days prior, complete with the antique leather dye, golden paint accents in the star constellations, and steampunk like swing hinge cuff. Not the easiest to make, especially setting the rivets for the cuff.

Worth it to John - small price to pay, but would reap rewards for U of H’s generosity. He’d bring it to them when he visited Gordon again.

The astronaut then looked at the octopus carved and stamped on the wallet. "It was too damn close," he said out loud, but at the same time, he was thankful. This was for Gordon later on.

John then smiled at the thought. It was indeed for his aquanaut brother, one they could’ve lost in that fire.

He was about to stamp the leather again... when a beep startled him.

The astronaut asked EOS to answer it, and the image of Virgil came out of the monitor.

"Gordon's come to," said Virgil.

"Fully?"

The older brother shrugged. "Mostly, but he should be fully alert by the time you get to the hospital," he said, then frowned. "He's asking about the leather bands... especially the one that was 'Mom's belt'."

John furrowed his brow.

Yes, that belt bracelet.

Fortunately the one bracelet Gordon hadn't worn that day.

Unfortunately, the one Gordon duplicated - with varying degrees of success, he did wear nearly daily.

John could imagine Gordon’s initial reaction… he’d feel the same way.

"Virgil, Gordon didn't wear that cuff that day," he said. "He intentionally put a small Thunderbird stamp on his so he didn't confuse the two."

Virgil nodded. "I know, but you know him and anesthetics... gives him the wrong memory if he's not goofy from it," he said, then chuckled. “Last time he was trying to feed Parker poster pancakes on the USS Lexington.”

John scoffed at the memory. "That one still has Parker perplexed," he said, then stood, stretching. "Try to talk him down from his confusion. I'll be there in a few minutes. I need to get something."

Virgil noticed John’s labors on the table and quirked an eyebrow. "What about the wallet you're working on?"

"It'll be fine. The leather can be dampened again to finish it up. I expected it to be a longer project over the bracelets I made at U of H,” he said, putting the stamping tool and mallet down.

The artist noticed John’s attempt to deflect, and his eyes twinkled in mischief. "So… how many projects did the University ‘con’ you out of for the auction this time?" said the artist with a teasing smirk.

He wasn't going to give his younger brother too much grief - he still owed the University at least one hand blown glass vase.

"Just the one - the astronomy cuff."

Virgil gave a soft whistle. "That one? You won't even make that one for me."

"Then bid on the one they're selling," snarked John as he cleaned up the rest of the leather tooling supplies.

Virgil merely laughed - yeah, he was going to bid if anything to help a department who helped his brother cope through this.

John then picked up a box wrapped in sea turtle wrapping paper. "I'll be there shortly,” he said walking to the space elevator.

“FAB.”

********

Gordon Tracy looked out the windows of his hospital room from his hovering hospital bed and signed.

He was thankful he wasn't stuck with a view of the generators. The hospital still hadn't gotten over teasing him - gently - about calling them "Donald Duck" in a post-anesthesia comment the other time he was there for an injury.

Here, it was a view of one of the garden parks the area had.

What he wasn't thankful for was the fact he lost the leather band that was made from his mother's belt.

He looked at the long bandages wrapped on his wrists and lower arms and sighed.

Sure, Virgil kept insisting it was not the band, but he knew his bracelets.

Yes, he had to admit they had to be fully cut off too keep him from bleeding out through his wrists - he knew one cut was still too close.

Still though... he had to concede if it was gone, it was his mother protecting him.

Even Scott had told him point blank it was the only time he was thankful Gordon had forgotten to take the bands off.

Rumor had it Scott was even considering consulting with Brains to create leather arm bracers.

His theory was if it worked for the cowboys in the 1800s and 1900s, why not the technological cowboys of today?

Gordon looked at the sky and smiled. "Thanks Mom for watching over both that woman and me," he said, then looked at the bands.

There were blood stains on them, which were not going to come out.

Sure, they could be dyed dark before being stored, most likely black, and he could have John help him there. That said, it was not going to matter when they had been made unwearable when Virgil cut them off.

There were the button and hole fixtures sure... but the aquanaut understood Virgil was going to slice first, apologize for saving Gordon's life later.

Blood loss didn’t wait for bracelets.

A knock at the door shook him out of his thoughts. "Come in," he said, adjusting the bed to where it floated back to connect with the main vitals scanner.

John entered and smiled at seeing his alert brother, the first time he'd been fully awake since before the accident.

"Hi Gordon, how are you feeling," he said, wincing slightly at the cliche.

His fish loving brother just smiled, but the astronaut didn't miss the sadness in the cinnamon colored eyes. "I'm having a whale of a time... too bad the lake below probably only has ducks," he said, chuckling slightly.

“Must be going ‘quackers’ then,” joked John, only to watch as Gordon fiddled with the remains of the bracelets. John coughed. "Gordon..."

"I know. They had to be cut off in order to save my life," the aquanaut said, sighing. "It's just... this was mom's - look at the paisley here..."

John put his hand over both his younger brother's and smiled. "It isn't the one made with Mom's belt, trust me,” he said, smiling, then pointing to a detail. "See? Here's the thunderbird stamp you used for yours."

Gordon took a closer look, and his eyes widened slightly.

John was right... it was indeed there, just had been cut in half by the cutting tools. Well he hoped so and not the glass, but that was a story left unsaid at the time.

"It's not mom's," the aquanaut whispered instead, tears of happiness flooding his eyes.

The astronaut smiled and gave his brother a gentle hug. "No it isn't. I made sure the one with Mom's was in the fire safe - just in case, on the Island before Alan brought me to the hospital," he said gently.

The two hugged gently for a while, the mix of hospital bluster and soothing sounds from the Muzak in the hallways mingling between the brother's hushed tones.

After a few minutes, Gordon sat up, and noticed the sea turtle box his brother was holding. "Funny looking NASA paper," the aquanaut teased, chuckling softly when John rolled his eyes.

He knew John tried to avoid the facility if possible.

Not because he didn't enjoy it, but because the last time he visited the center, Mission Control crowded him the point he fainted from the social claustrophobia.

Alan found it amusing.

EOS found it amusing to force Alan to eat freeze dried brussel sprouts and liver with onions meals every day his last rotation on Thunderbird Five for his "rude behavior."

Both men chuckled in the memory, and John handed his brother the box. "Nope, this is for you, a get well soon present," said he said.

Gordon carefully opened up the box, which John had purposely wrapped the two parts separately due to the shoulder being strapped, and gasped.

Inside were two bracelets.

One was similar to his mother's belt, but the paisley and flower design that was in his mom's band was adjusted slightly to include southwestern printed sea turtles and a squid stamp John had custom made. Like his mother's, it was dyed a medium brown.

The other... took Gordon's breath away.

The edges were done in a simple border - scalloped with the occasional octopus and sea turtle stamp in between the scallops. It was dyed mahogany.

It was mostly just border stamped... because the concho fastened in the center was the showstopper.

It was a golden sea turtle, swimming in the middle of a pewter center. “How?…”

Seeing Gordon's eyes water, John chuckled. "Yes, I remembered that concho. Had trouble finding it, but fortunately the store on the Sam Houston Tollway found one and put it aside for me," he said as he put a hand on his brother's uninjured shoulder.

Gordon put the box down and wiped away the tears with his good hand. "Got a bit of hand sanitizer in my eyes. Strong stuff," he said, and John scoffed.

"Yeah, sure... you want me to help put it on your … good wrist?" John said, and coughed when Gordon shot the arm out. "Whew... you weren't kidding on the hand sanitizer,” he laughed, waving the fumes away.

"Yeah... apparently it's 'essense of moonshine' I think. It probably kills germs 10 years before they’re born," Gordon smirked.

The bands fit perfectly, and had a simple button and hole fastener so the doctors or even Gordon could take it off with a push if needed.

John watched his brother admire the bracelet, even taking a few photos of the laughs and chuckles his brother made as he showed it off.

Gordon then paused and looked at John. "You made these right?" he inquired, looking at the antiqued looking band.

The astronaut nodded, and Gordon continued, grinning slightly in memory. "How many bands did the University get you to make in exchange for the use of the studio this time?"

"One - and before you ask, the astronomy one,” John said, touching a button on his baldric to ensure EOS didn’t talk about the wallet. She still had a proclivity to ruin surprises - especially if it was one of John’s younger siblings.

Gordon, knowing how much money usually got raised to but one of these bands, looked at the bands and then John. "Worth every cent," he said, smiling warmly as the nurse came in to check Gordon's vitals and bring dinner.

John took this as a note to head out, but before he left, he looked at his brother, who was bragging about the bracelet his older brother made.

And making it very clear how to take it on and off so this one was not cut off.

The astronaut gave a gentle wave to his brother. "I'll be back later," he said, and headed out.

Hearing the chuckles Gordon made again, John's smile broadened. "Yes, it was worth every single minute and cent to hear that laughter," John murmured, but it was priceless to have his brother saved by those other bands.

Now... how he was going to steal the remnants of the old bands to repurpose into a hippie cuff for Gordon was another story

#tag mini bang 2021 #tracybirds #john tracy #gordon tracy #virgil tracy #tag fanfic #tag fanfiction

[glowcrizzle]

Today is the 1 year AO3 anniversary of Slow Show by @mia-ugly. I am beyond grateful that this experience (and it is an experience) has existed in my life for a year and felt it needed commemorating. 🎂  

I’m not a creator but I made this playlist for me, so I could take the fic with me, have it with my eyes closed, while driving -- you get it. Today seems like an appropriate day to share it. 

It’s a. It’s a lot. Excessive you might even say. Tumblr will only give you the first 100 songs in this, so, Spotify will fulfill you (or overwhelm you). If you hit my username on the playlist, there are separate playlists for each chapter. 

This is also on Apple Music, if that’s your jam, just hit me up and I’ll send you the link. 

🎉 Happy Slow Show Day!! 🎉 

13 pages of track-lists and excerpts below the cut. Godspeed! 💙

Key:

Songs from Mia’s soundtrack

Songs from the Fic

.

--Title--

Slow Show – The National 

_

--Prequel--

Loverman – Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds 

Devils – Say Hi 

_

--Chapter 1--

Here I Go Again – Whitesnake 

_

bad guy – Billie Eilish 

-trash a set and shag your husband

_

Something About You (ODESZA Remix) – Hayden James 

-what it would take for Avery Fell to let his guard down

_

A Little Wicked – Valerie Broussard 

-The handkerchief in his hand is now stained purple

_

You Light Me Up In the Dark – The Hounds Below

-His hair catches the light like a halo, making him look more of an angel than ever.

_

Lazarus – David Bowie 

-This could be a problem

_

--Chapter 2--

Unsteady – X Ambassadors

-much easier than talking about the way his heartbeat is still racing

_

Heart of a Dog – The Kills

-Call me darling again.

_

The Twilight Hour - Still Corners

-Looked across the set and thought, Ah fuck me. I’m in love with him.

_

God’s Mistake – Tears for Fears 

-Avery: He’s closed his eyes again, mouth going flat and still.

_

Lounge Act – Nirvana

-Tell her all the terrible things I want to do to her husband

_

Transatlanticism – Death Cab for Cutie

-There’s a strange urgency tonight, though, and Crowley can guess why.

_

Do I Wanna Know? – Arctic Monkeys

-What could it hurt?

_

Clueless – The Marias 

-“Better - yeah. ‘S late.”

_

Motel – Meg Myers

-The hotel room is another disaster

_

--Chapter 3--

Alone in a Room – Asking Alexandria 

-“I’m having a moment here!”

_

Since You’ve Been Around – Rosie Thomas 

-makes Crowley feel like he can breathe again

_

Home Again – The Disco Biscuits 

-It’s starting to feel like home again

_

Every Other Freckle – alt-J

-Perfect. Ridiculous and impossible and perfect.

_

Something For the Longing – The Orchids 

_

As Far As I Can See – Phantogram 

-it’s been a really, really long time

_

Sinister Kid – The Black Keys 

-“Mothering buggering shit-”

_

All These Things That I’ve Done – The Killers

-Crowley fists one of his hands against his forehead, shuts his eyes tightly.

_

--Chapter 4--

I Like Me Better – Lauv

-I liked the outline of your face under the stagelights

_

I Do This for You (ft. Marlene) – Giorgio Moroder

-“Let me see what I can do. About your precious Hamlet.”

_

The Longing – Imelda May 

-Avery POV: “Look at him like - like - you can’t let him see the way you look at him.”

_

Just a Man – Los Lobos

-Avery POV: like he’s being led into battle and not onto a set to do the job he loves

_

World In My Eyes – Depeche Mode 

-wants to make that bastard purr

_

Tired (ft. Gavin James) – Alan Walker

-Let me be a magpie for you

_

Blow My Mind – The Benjamin Gate 

-Avery: “I know you now.”

_

Breathe You in My Dreams – Trixie Whitley

-Crowley’s seen that expression on Avery’s face in his dreams

_

Love Me Like That (ft. Carly Rae Jepsen) – The Knocks

-What have I done to - oh. Oh. Right.

_

Like Real People Do - Hozier

-“Sure, angel, what- whatever.”

_

Clearly – Grace VanderWaal 

-Crowley waits for the rest of the night.

_

Gwendel – PeelsDeen 

-Az sits in the back seat, away from Crowley. Alone.

_

Now I’m In It – HAIM

-Avery POV: It’s a look like an open grave, a look like desire tempered with grief…

_

Flesh for Fantasy – Billy Idol

-Crowley isn’t lonely for the rest of the night

_

--Chapter 5 (Avery POV)--

Smalltown Boy – Rosborough 

-1978, Hartlepool

_

Bright Horses – Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

-1986, Newcastle Upon Tyne

_

The Runner – Foals

-1991, Bristol

_

Shock To Your System – Tegan and Sara

-Tracy: “Why d’you let them?”

_

Cracking Codes – Andrew Bird

-“Forever, of course. I’ll never -”

_

Colour me In – Damien Rice

-Their fingers - just touch. Slightly.

_

I’m Not in Love – 10cc

-Less to regret by not ever speaking of it.

_

--Chapter 6--

Electric Current – Lower Dens 

-“I’ll let you know when you find it.”

_

Guess I Miss(ed) You – The Daylights

-Keep talking, keep him here a little while longer.

_

Reflecting Light – Sam Phillips 

-“don’t meet his eyes like that, it looks like it’s a lead-in to a kiss”

_

King of Pain – The Police

-a good reminder of the kind of life he’s got to live

_

I Wanna Get Better – The Bleachers

-and Avery’s gaze is so gentle it hurts a bit

_

Feather – X Ambassadors 

-Avery: “Someone has to”

_

Darker Side - Jonny Lang

-Avery: “Oh - good Lord.”

_

Firestone (Acoustic) – Conrad Sewell 

-“Will you show me?”

_

Velvet Gloves and Spit - Timber Timbre 

-“Anthony - ”

_

Wrong – Depeche Mode

-Avery: “I have to go.”

_

F**k it I love you – Lana Del Rey 

-“Not your fault, angel”

_

--Chapter 7--

Somebody to Love – Queen 

_

Heavenly – Cigarettes After Sex 

-“I fucking still.”

_

Will Do - TV on the Radio

-“You too. I’ll see you there.”

_

Monster – Colours

-No wonder Avery ran off like a thief after a heist

_

Swallow My Pride – Ramones 

-“I feel fucking ill about it.”

_

I Was Wrong - The Oh Hellos

-Avery: “I’m the one who has to apologize, not you.”

_

The Lost Art of Keeping a Secret – Queens of the Stone Age

-Avery: “Please don’t tell anyone”

_

Wait for Me – Kings of Leon

-Avery: “Right now, I’m just - a bit in pieces.”

_

Don’t Stay – X Ambassadors 

-“You can - stay or leave or - whatever you like.”

_

The Moth - Aimee Mann

-Avery’s eyes meet his, and then it’s like a car accident

_

Red Door – Julien Baker 

-“I can - I can wait longer.”

_

Can’t Pretend - Tom Odell

-“I wasn’t apologizing for that. This morning. I won’t.”

_

Come Down to Me – Saving Jane

-Avery: “You were wonderful”

_

Secret Smile – Semisonic

-And if sometimes he catches Az watching him between takes

_

I Want More - KALEO

-Az laces both of their hands together, stares at them.

_

I’m Gonna Do My Thing – Royal Deluxe 

-“So don’t tell me what will hurt me. I know what hurts.”

_

--Chapter 8--

Perfect Day – Lou Reed 

_

Remember to Breathe – Sturgil Simpson

-“You can’t sit in the car all night you absolute nightmare”

_

Wild Love (Acoustic) – James Bay

-The two of them stare at each other and then both look away awkwardly.

_

Seasons – Future Islands

-finally, fucking finally, he’s exactly where he wants to be

_

Closer – Tegan and Sara

-Avery: “if you like”

_

I Want All of You – The Verve Pipe 

-“If you think I can survive this without looking at you -”

_

Use Me – Miguel

-whatever he sees in Crowley’s face makes him come to some sort of decision

_

So Much Love – Depeche Mode

-Love, he said love

_

Don’t Be Scared, I Love You – Bill Ryder-Jones

-I know you, Crowley wants to say, but doesn’t.

_

Become My Dream – Silya & The Sailors 

-“Even if - anything, angel.”

_

I Belong In Your Arms – Chairlift

-For nearly two weeks it goes like this.

_

Faster - Matt Nathanson

-“You’re going to fucking kill me, angel -”

_

Come Together (feat. Sivu) – LAUREL

-In case you think they don’t wake up together

_

The High – Kelela

-Az has pulled a stool over to the edge of the tub

_

Just in Time – Valerie June

-Then Az’s hand is on his shoulder, turning him around.

_

I Can’t Take It – Tegan and Sara

-Avery: “Don’t rush, just - like this.”

_

Like This – Jake Scott

-Avery murmurs and it takes Crowley back to their first kiss

_

Terrible Love – The National

-Flinches away from him.

_

Help You Out - Emarosa

-And he nods.

_

--Chapter 9--

I Remember You – Ramones

-The first person Crowley loved was a liar.

_

Brighter Skies - Race Banyon

-As if they were cut with a jigsaw, as if they were meant to fit.

_

Not Tonight – Tegan and Sara

-When they reach the edge of the city, his hand slides out of Crowley’s.

_

As Sure as I Am – Crowded House

-So Crowley kisses him.

_

A Promise – Miriam Makeba

-And for awhile, he believed her.

_

Mistaken for Strangers – The National

-They’re only two small words, but they still make Crowley’s teeth ache.

_

Hey, That’s No Way To Say Goodbye – Leonard Cohen

-“Good-“ Swallow, speak, leave.

_

The Fear – Pulp

-Crowley should have been smarter this time. He really should have been.

_

Take Me – Leela James 

-“I’d like you to close your blinds.”

_

Whenever You Want It – Clare Maguire 

-“What do we do now?”

_

At My Weakest – James Arthur 

-“It will be.”

_

Komm zurück - Fotos

-For years and years and years, nothing did.

_

Come on Get Higher – Matt Nathanson

-their feet sliding in the tub

_

Lay Down – Sarah Proctor

-I want to wake up with you.

_

Sort Of - Ingrid Michaelson

-Why is my heart breaking?

_

Fairytale of New York – The Pogues 

-Just pump that shit straight into his veins.

_

What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve? – Ella Fitzgerald

-Avery: “What do you think?”

_

We’re Gonna Have A Real Good Time Together – The Velvet Underground

-“You want to grab dinner somewhere?” 

_

Hiding – IAN SWEET

-Crowley stops walking. Looks at Az in the darkness.

_

Romance Dawn – Radkey

-A slice of light cuts through the darkness.

_

Crown of Love – Arcade Fire

-Crowley feels like the world has never been darker, and his heart will never stop beating

_

Devil’s Backbone – The Civil Wars

-He thought he was ready for this conversation, but at the sight of Az’s face, his throat has gotten too tight to speak.

_

Sinners – Lauren Aquilina 

-“If this all goes down in flames, if it all falls apart - we can go off together.”

_

Please Forgive Me (Song of the Crow) – William Fitzsimmons 

-Avery: “It’s over. I’m - I’m so sorry.”

_

Start a War – The National

-He twitches and trips and yet somehow manages to walk away without falling over.

_

Broken – Daley

-And this soft heartache was somehow the sharpest of them all.

_

--Chapter 10 (Avery POV)--

Daily Battles - Thom Yorke & Flea

-He tries to remember these things - but the background is still a chorus of beeping machines. There’s nowhere he can be but here. 

_

Everybody Wants You - Red Hearse

-Go out and surround himself with people much more interesting and available than Avery. Better people, certainly.

_

A Thin Line – Blackchords

-But still - roads not taken, and other fun middle-aged spirals.

_

My Own Soul’s Warning - The Killers

-When was the last time someone asked Avery that? When was the last time he asked himself?

_

Who Am I - NEEDTOBREATHE

-I miss you.  There. It didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would. 

_

Wait for Me - Jack Curley 

-What he wants to say is ‘don’t find someone else. Not yet. You and your black leather and your cut-glass profile: you’re gorgeous and God knows other people want you.’ 

_

Coming & Going – Amaal 

-“Two ships passing in the night,” he says quietly.  Then he takes a swallow of wine, lets it roll down his throat. “If you were here -” 

_

Iron - Woodkid

-Crowley leaves him there, pressed against the wet brick wall.  Crowley leaves him there.  Crowley steps between Avery and a camera, and then leaves him.

_

The Greatest Bastard - Damien Rice

-He can’t be the person that kicks Crowley into the ashes again. He can’t hurt him like this, and Avery’s going to hurt him - he already has. 

_

No Right to Love You – Rhys Lewis

-He deserves someone like - like Daniel. Deserves to be loved in the daylight.

_

If It’s Hurting You - Robbie Williams

-Time is a tricky business when you’re dying slowly; it skips like a flat stone on a quiet lake.

_

Happy For You – Gayle 

-But surely - surely he’s allowed just this much. Just one message, just so Crowley knows that - that he’s happy for him. That Avery is so happy.

_

I See You (ICU) - Phoebe Bridgers

-When Avery sees Crowley on the red carpet, it feels like the sudden remembrance of a lovely dream.

_

Once In My Life - The Decemberists

-Crowley: “I know there’ve been some - hard times. That’s - that is what it is. But for me - it’s been a privilege. A dream. So.” He nods and nods and nods again. “Thank you.”

_

Coming Down - Dum Dum Girls

-Tracy: “But I wasn’t. I was hurting you. This whole time, Az.”  She shakes her head, wiping frantically at tears that won’t stop falling. “He loves you.”

_

I Don’t Know Anything – Little Voice Cast

-He’s afraid of finding out that all this time - he was doing the wrong thing anyway. He’s afraid that Anthony Crowley will never talk to him again.

_

Sweet Sour - Band of Skulls

-"And you're fired"

_

Heart Attack - Devarrow

-The sun is still rising when Avery gets out of the car, closes the door behind him. Though some of the roads have changed, his feet still know the way down to the docks of his youth. He was never a sailor, but the shoreline is familiar as a childhood sweetheart, as a long lost love. 

_

Landslide - Robyn Sherwell

-He’s alone, and he’s nearly fifty years old. He could get on a ship, he could throw himself into the sea. There’s no one holding him back anymore. 

_

All I Can - Sharon van Etten

-And he knows. He knows.

_

--Chapter 11-- 

Salvation - The Strumbellas

- there’s a moment where he swears he sees a young idiot in black standing in the crowd. Red hair gelled up into spikes, black t-shirt full of holes and safety pins. A young man who has no idea how much he’s about to lose.

_

Soldier - Fleurie

-And he’s still fucking here.

_

Easier – Mansionair

-Then he gets the fuck above ground and he calls Beez (oh great, they’re his emotional-support-asshole now. That’s healthy).

_

Deep End – Holly Humberstone  

-“I brought you cheese,” Beez says, and Crowley starts crying.

_

Falling Short – Lapsley

-For the next few days, he lets his stupid body do what it needs to do to keep himself upright.

_

Chariot (Stripped Version) - Gavin DeGraw

-Shit, this was a bad bad idea. 

_

Quiet Light - The National

-There’s a text from Az later that night, and his name on Crowley’s phone makes him feel like jumping off a cliff.

_

All That We Had is Lost - Postiljonen

-He’s not allowed to be in love with that man anymore. Wasn’t ever, really.

_

Heal - Tom Odell

-It makes a rather hysterical laugh well out of his throat. Anthony fucking Crowley. You are still alive. 

_

Let Me Go - HAIM 

-Crowley tries to ignore the soft, injured expression on the other man’s face as he turns away.

_

A Beginning Song - The Decemberists

-“What’s more frightening than having a choice?”

_

The Spark - William Prince

-And he likes to think he would have just burned the world to ashes with the power of his love, would have said fuck everyone, I choose you – but who knows. 

_

Sharp Scratch - The Slow Show

-So stupid, I know, and I’m - sorry, I still love you and I’m tryin’ to stop and I will I just - needed to tell you that. I’ll be fine. You’ll be fine. Just miss you.

_

Beautiful & Brutal – Plested

-Crowley moves without thinking. Falls like a stagelight, glass everywhere. He walks forward and is kissing Az before the door has even been pulled shut.

_

Bad Chemistry - Fake Shark

-“I’ve been - thinking about this -” Az says between darts of his tongue against Crowley’s overheated skin.

_

All We Do – Oh Wonder

-“But I - I love you. And I can’t -  hide. It hurts too much.”

_

Broken Strings - James Morrison (ft Nelly Furtado)

-“I wouldn’t survive it. That way it was. I wouldn’t.”

_

Stole the Show – Parson James

-But even on their distant shores, Crowley and Az don’t stop looking at each other. It feels like an ending. Maybe it is one. Not a happy ending, but not a bad one either.

_

Level Up - Vienna Teng

-excerpt from Anthony Crowley: Out of the shadows, under the spotlight

_

The Wire (Alternate Version) – Patrick Droney 

-Avery: “I’m rather in - in love with you.”

_

Sweet Thing - Van Morrison

-“You can stay at my place. If you like.”

_

Falling in Love - Cigarettes After Sex

-“I love you. I’ve missed you, and I love you, and I want you -”

_

Stay - Cat Power

-He watches the slow flicker of awareness in Avery’s blue eyes. The curve of his mouth into a shade of smile that Crowley’s never seen before.

_

Freedom - George Michael

-“To the world.”

_

--Chapter 12--

Banks - NEEDTOBREATHE

-What he wasn’t used to was bringing someone else down with him, and jail would be a bloody blessing compared to seeing Az grey-faced and staring out windows, or that one time Crowley’s pretty sure the man was crying in the bathroom, trying to swallow down the sound so that Crowley didn’t notice (he clenches his hands into fists just thinking about it).

_

Black Mambo - Glass Animals

-“It’ll have to be.” Crowley drops to his knees. “There’s a lot of ground to cover.” 

_

Florets - Grace VanderWaal

-Crowley can let his fingers curl against Az’s palm, can watch him open as a flame, not caring who notices.

_

Sight of the Sun - fun.

-That this longing won’t destroy him, and won’t destroy Az either. It’s not a shovel for burying Crowley alive - it’s a spade for planting things.

_

Pale Blue Eyes - The Velvet Underground

-Az drops his hand onto Crowley’s knee (“What is this song? I rather like it.”).

_

Only Everything (Acoustic) – Quinn Lewis

-“It’s nice to have someone make it for you, right? Sometimes,” Crowley says softly, too much love in his throat and in his hands. It’s hard to breathe around it, especially when Avery is looking at him.

_

The Book of Love - The Magnetic Fields

-“You bought a cottage for us.” Crowley is an animal being taught to speak through scraps of meat and electric shocks. “This cottage.”

_

Say You’ll Be Mine – Christopher Cross

-Avery: “But if you wanted -” Fuck, there are tears in Avery’s eyes. “If you want. I’d like to call you my husband. I’d like to say ‘let me ask my husband,’ or ‘I brought my husband with me’ or ‘my husband won a BAFTA’.”

_

Anthem - Leonard Cohen

-Their broken edges match. And somehow, the light still shines through.

_

Precious Love – James Morrison

-When the light catches them both, they shine. And so do you. So do we.

_

Good Man (acoustic) - Josh Ritter

_

_

If you made it this far...wow, hi hello. So, this is ours and my musical exposure is limited, if you’ve got a better song for an excerpt, feel free to shoot it over, more than happy for this to be a living changeable thing. 🤡 

#slow show #slow show playlist #tumblr html code after read more is some bullshit #it's fic for your ears

[tracybirds]

Bad Things Happen Bingo #3 Virgil + Damaged Wings

Prompted by @gumnut-logic who incidentally was also the one I badgered for a few more details about the Marks and Wings ‘verse to comply :D I had fun playing in this world for even a snapshot.

Virgil watching John trying out his new wings. Set post-John and honestly, I just wanted to play with the concept of artificial wings some :D

Notes: If you haven’t read any Marks and Wings AU, I direct you first to here. Some Virgil/Kayo in this one too :D also I changed tenses like fifty times before settling so if I missed a couple in the final read through, that’s all on me :P

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

Tracy Island wasn’t known for rolling hills or soft landings. The cliffs stood tall and proud, the rocks sharp and biting at their base. The capricious wind never ceased, shifting from breeze to gale with no thought to the inhabitants below. It was a far cry from the flat lands of Kansas, where they’d learnt to fly high and free in the long stretches of summer days. The inland forest and bush of their new home had sheltered Alan as a fledgeling with his first full plumage, but the dense wooded area was no place to rediscover flight.

The weeks that followed John’s brutal attack had been long and painful, full of hopeless nights and angry mornings. The artificial wings had consumed Virgil’s waking moments and he hadn’t been able to do more than collapse when they were done.

John spent many hours, bringing them forth and learning how to manipulate them anew, and it had been a joyous evening when Scott had smiled and pronounced him ready for the elements outside of the ex-magma chamber that stored their ‘birds.

The family trudged up the worn path to the take-off point, spirits high and chatter sailing right over Virgil’s head.

Alan and Scott leapt into flight, wings beating against the wind as they flew into position. John’s mark shone clear and bright in the sunlight, still scarred and jagged. The nerves trilled under his skin, itching at Virgil and he shuddered with a sudden restless energy as John walked to the edge.

Gordon lay a steady hand on his shoulder.

“He’s got this,” he murmured, eyes never leaving their brother as he paced the clifftop.

“I just wish I could be there for him. Not stuck on the ground.”

“You and me both.”

John shot an annoyed look at them and Virgil felt his muted nerves morph into a reproach.

“You are there for him,” said Kayo. Her voice was calm and sure, soothing against the inflamed anxiety, against the feeling – the knowledge – that he should have done more.

“Okay John, we’re ready for you,” called Scott.

Virgil was hit by an wave of calm and John lifted in open air for the first time.

His new wings less unfurled than unsheathed. There was no soft ruffling of feathers, no tug of the wind calling him to the skies. John would need to fight for his place in the air. The sunlight reflected from his wings with a harsh metallic glint, unforgiving and cold as the steel in his eyes.

It didn’t suit his kind brother.

But it was what Virgil had made him.

A twinge of pain between his shoulder blades echoed through their bond as the feathers sliced through the skin of the otherspace. Weeks later and Virgil wondered if it would ever fade entirely. The sacrifice was just one more small price he would gladly pay for the rest of his life.

John’s flight feathers twitched as he stepped forward, the wind buffeting against his skin.

Two deep breaths and his wings began to beat. He ran, just like they all used to before their muscles had developed enough to pull them into the air from nothing. The dizzy excitement pounded in Virgil’s ears and John leapt high.

He doesn’t come down.

He hung in the air, aloft and smiling. Nobody moved, nobody breathed, except for the instinctive shift of feathers and the slow beat of John’s wings.

John whooped, loud and free, Gordon jumped and cheered beside him, running to the edge of the cliff, and Virgil felt the joy spreading and singing in his heart. John turned in his feathers and dived to meet Scott and Alan in an unspoken choreography as they fly together.

A slim arm wrapped around his and he looked down with a soft smile at Kayo.

“He looks good, doesn’t he?”

“It’s all thanks to you.” Her eyes flickered up at the sky, watching the darting movements as his brothers’ test John’s range of motion. She looked back at him, tracking down his neck, his shoulders, to land on his own abused mark.

“Was it worth it?”

“To see him like this? It’s worth every feather.”

The old guilt crept up as he watched his brother soaring above, tucked away again while John and Gordon were distracted. He knew the logic behind their arguments, his head was well aware of who should take the blame. But his heart had revolted at the image of John without wings, the horror and the overwhelming revulsion at the act were too much for him.

Kayo watched him, eyes crinkling with concern.

Virgil shifted, well aware he could never hope to hide his discomfort under her unrelenting gaze.

“You can’t hold onto this forever.” She laid a hand on his cheek, gently pulling away so that he followed her lead and drew into her embrace. “You’ve sacrificed enough, you’ve already atoned for a crime you bear no responsibility for.”

“I just wish…”

“We all wish,” she interrupted. “It doesn’t do any of us any good.”

Always matter-of-fact. Always gentle. Always right.

“No more leads then?”

“None.” She pulled away, gesturing sharp and angry. “He’s gone to ground. The GDF doesn’t want to waste their precious resources.”

“You know you’re not to blame either.”

“I want him to face justice,” Her voice was low and fierce. “He’s not going to hurt my family anymore, I want justice for what he did to John, for what he did to you.”

“He didn’t hurt me, love,” he whispered, pulling her close again. He didn’t want this, he’d give anything for life to be as it was. But if he couldn’t turn back the clock, than at least he would be grateful for the woman who stood by his side.

Kayo melted in his arms, burying her face in his chest. Virgil can feel her lips moving against his skin.

“He did.”

His eyes closed and he’s not watching, only feeling. He couldn’t see the way Kayo’s shoulders relaxed, how the tension drained from her. He couldn’t see the way John’s left wing locked, the sudden friction sending a shuddering force through to the tips of his pinions.

Instead, he felt the breath catch in his brother’s throat, felt the disbelief slam into him like a man without a parachute.

And then he was yelling, they were all yelling and John was falling.

Falling like Virgil promised he never would again.

Scott dived, Alan following a split second later, only this time it’s not a dream hovering at the edge between imagination and reality.

There was nothing, and it couldn’t be happening again. Nothing but the wind whistling in John’s ears and Virgil can’t think, can’t see, nothing but a vision of a broken body lying at the bottom of the cliff on a bed of artificial wings.

He groaned and pitched forwards as his mark heaves under his skin.

“No, Virgil,” said Kayo, her voice desperate and far away. “You can’t.”

He was deaf to her pain and blind to his own, his body acting on pure instinct to aid a brother in need.

He wouldn’t let John fall. He promised.

The lift called forth broken wings, scarred and pin feathers half grown. He can’t extend his wing, can’t reach out to John and he’s mindless of the way his primaries drag in the dust as he stumbled to the edge of the cliff.

He didn’t want to look down but he’d do it for John.

They caught him. One wing was limp and the other fluttering, and Scott would have a bruised rib for his thanks, but they caught him.

John’s face was white as his wings ought to be and his knees were shaking. He fell to the ground, his face skyward. Virgil reached for him, sweat dripping to the ground below as the lift finally failed, his wings sinking back into his skin.

“They caught you,” he mumbled, still in a state of shock.

“They always do.”

His breath came short and sharp, wheezing from the panic and adrenaline that had flooded his system. His head lolled sideways and he stared at Virgil.

“Gravity sucks.”

#thunderbirds are go #virgil tracy #john tracy #kayo kyrano #virgil x kayo #sometimes i fic #bthb card

[tagsecretsanta]

From @Psychoseal

to @avengedbiologist

Secret Santa does not own this work, full credit to the author above! The sun is blazing overhead. Even by tropical island standards it is hot. 

“It is too hot to move” Gordon complains from his spot by the pool where he is lying on one of the loungers, wearing nothing but his tiniest speedos. Showing off his perfectly sculpted abs, there is a scar on his chest. A streak of white on his otherwise evenly tanned torso. Virgil has slathered him in sunscreen from head to toe to avoid him getting burned. Partly because he cares about him and mainly because he is cranky and irritable when he is in pain! 

“Why don’t you go for a swim?” Kayo asks. She is on the lounger next to him, having just pulled herself up out of the water. 

There is a jug of lemonade on the table in between the two loungers and Kayo pours herself a glass before choking on its bitter taste. “Ugh, that is disgusting. Who made it?” she asks.

“Alan” Gordon replies with a shrug. 

“What did he put in it?” 

“No idea, I wasn’t silly enough to try it” Gordon replies, poking his tongue out at her. 

Kayo grins back at him and in one swift movement dumps the left-over lemonade on him before racing back into the house. 

Gordon squeaks with indignity, but rather than chasing after her he dives back into the pool. Revenge is the last thing on his mind as he lets his anger wash over him in his happy place, and besides, it is Christmas Eve and he is in too good a mood to let anyone ruin it now. 

He stays in the pool until his father comes out to get him. “Come on Squid there is food on the table and you need to have an early night. You know Father Christmas won’t come if you’re still awake!” 

“Dad, I am not five years old!” Gordon reminds him. 

“Do you want presents?” Jeff threatens with a smile. 

Gordon doesn’t respond, instead he jumps up from the pool before grabbing his father and pulling him close for a hug. 

“Gordon! You’re soaking” Jeff reminds him. 

Gordon shakes the water from his head all over Jeff’s shirt. 

“Never change Gords” Jeff says, as he struggles to free himself from his son’s vice like grip. 

“Ooh pizza” Gordon announces, when he enters the kitchen ten minutes later, now fully dressed in a pair of light blue pyjamas and no shoes. 

On the table are several pizzas neatly cut into slices. Steam rising up from the cheese and Gordon’s mouth is watering in anticipation. Reaching across Virgil, he grabs hold of the nearest pie and pulls it towards him. Taking two slices and mashing them together before shovelling it in whole, bits of stringy cheese are dripping down his chin. “H-h-hot!” he gasps. 

“Do you regret that?” Scott asks.

Gordon glares at him, while he gulps down a glass of water. “Nope! Never!” he finally spits out. 

Between the boys, Jeff, Grandma, Kayo and Brains the pizza doesn’t last long. 

Jeff has no idea what traditions the boys have kept or made anew. “What are we doing now?” he asks Scott. Jeff is so proud of the way Scott stepped up to help raise his brothers after his disappearance and is more than happy to sit back and let him take the lead. 

But it is Alan who replies. “Well we are going to have an early night. Eos is looking out for any hints of an emergency so we are going to make sure we are well rested.” 

Scott and Virgil burst into laughter. 

“Yeah right Al” John says, banging his fist on the table while he chokes on his coffee. 

“I am an adult now. A real grown up!” Alan insists, he knows that he can’t reveal his true plans yet. If this works he will finally get the respect he deserves. 

Grandma and Jeff break open a bottle of wine, which they take out onto the balcony to watch the sunset. “Do you ever miss Christmas in Kansas?” he asks. His mom gave up her own life to raise her grandchildren and he will never be able to repay her.

Grandma shakes her head. “Miss the sub-zero temperatures and the snow and the ice? No thank you!”

Even in the darkening evening the heat is oppressive and muggy. “I don’t know about you Jeff but it is nicer inside with the air conditioning. You have wrapped the boys presents?” 

Jeff nods. “Of course. This is the first time in nine years that I have been able to do this and I am going to make tomorrow special. The whole family is home under one roof. It is a shame Lady Penelope couldn’t make it; I know Gordon is missing her” 

“Her family plans couldn’t be rearranged, but I know they are going to meet up for New Year instead.” 

The house is silent when they go back in, all five boys having agreed to an early night, so that Father Christmas can deliver their presents in peace. The living room has the look of a tinsel explosion and the main tree is covered in lights and baubles. The morning after the tree had been decorated, they arrived downstairs to find Gordon had replaced the baubles with hundreds of them shaped like his own head. Which even now gives Alan nightmares of a parallel universe where he is haunted by a thousand Gordon’s! 

“I am off to bed myself Jeff dear. I will see you in the morning.” 

“Night mom” Jeff replies watching her go up the stairs past Virgil’s latest art project and into the comfort of her own suite. 

Jeff gets to work as soon as he is alone. Removing a box from the safe and pulling out the bright red suit and long white beard and getting changed into his old outfit. There is a large sack of presents waiting to go under the tree, which are hidden in his room.

Alan waits until he is sure that his father has gone to bed, before he sneaks out of his room and back down the stairs into the living room. Creeping as quietly as a mouse Alan sets up his great plan to catch Father Christmas and prove to Gordon once and for all that he does exist! 

“What are you doing?” 

Alan turns round to find Gordon staring at him in confusion. 

“Catching Father Christmas!” Alan insists. “What are you doing out of bed?” 

“Getting a glass of water. Do you need any help?” 

Alan shakes his head. “No, I have everything I need here. Can you remember the time you trapped Scott in that net and forced him to watch five hours of Into the Unknown?” 

Gordons eyes crinkle with the laughter of the memory. “Yeah, fun times!” 

“Well that. I am going to use that to catch him.” Alan reveals his plan. 

“Good luck. I am going back to bed” Gordon says yawning. “You want a drink?” 

“I’m good” Alan replies. Turning his attention back to the trap. He doesn’t go up onto the roof to trap the reindeer, the last thing he would want to do is accidentally cause Rudolph to fall and hurt himself! 

Once the net is set up Alan realises that he needs a place to hide, and he knows the perfect spot. The boy’s old fort. To help them adjust to the move, Jeff helped them build a fort in the living room behind his desk. The entrance is hidden by a pair of curtains which used to hang in their mom and dad’s room in Kansas. Inside there are five squashy mismatched armchairs which Grandma helped them decorate. Alan’s is bright red and adorned with pictures of rockets. Here he has the perfect view of the room, as he gets settled in his chosen hiding spot. 

He has not been in here for ages and he starts to think about the times he spent in here. 

That first night on the Island when he was too frightened to sleep and ended up in here joined by his brothers they all slept in here, snuggled in a bro pile on the soft carpeted floor. 

Their first Christmas where they strung fairy lights across the entrance and all stayed in here to open their presents and eat the cold dry turkey Grandma cremated for their dinner. 

The night their father disappeared. Alan sought refuge in here, curling up on the floor on his own while he cried himself to sleep. Alan hasn’t slept in his own bed since, preferring the floor. No one else has vanished while he sleeps on the floor.

There is a box next to his chair. A box full of memories. Smiling now, Alan starts to look through the box. there are ticket stubs from movies they went too, old school reports, John’s science fair trophy and Gordon’s Olympic gold medal. Family photos from Kansas and the Island. At the bottom of the box, Alan finds their old flag. Designed and painted by Virgil “Fort Tracy” and tomorrow he is going to put the flag back where it belongs. 

Alan sits down on the floor, and before he knows it he is fast asleep.

*TB*

“ARRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!” A scream wakes him up nearly an hour later. Alan jumps in shock, and momentarily confused before he realises where he is. He scrambles to his feet and races out the Fort where he finds exactly what he is waiting for. 

“YES I CAUGHT YOU!”  Alan cries. 

“Get me down!” The figure dressed in his red suit calls from above his head. 

Realisation that it is his father and not Father Christmas dawns on him, and he releases the net. “DAD?” 

“What the hell Alan?” he asks.

“I just wanted to catch Father Christmas” Alan says, there is a deep look of disappointment on his face and tears are threatening. 

“Oh Allie” Jeff melts. “You know that Father Christmas doesn’t exist. Come on, help me pop the presents under the tree and then I will make us hot chocolate.” 

The disappointment isn’t fading as he helps Jeff place the gifts until he finds ones with his name on. “Hey, look this one is for me!” 

“Of course it is. Do you think we would leave you out?” Jeff asks.

“Gordon said…” Alan starts.

“Say no more! Never listen to Gordon” Jeff reminds him with a grin. 

Jeff makes the hot chocolate, and the two go back to the Fort. “I haven’t seen you use this for ages” he says while he sits on Scott’s customised chair.

“I think we outgrew it” Alan says, there is a hint of sadness in his voice now. 

“Nothing lasts forever Alan, you must know that by now” Jeff says, placing his mug on the floor and giving his youngest son a hug.

“Everything changed when you disappeared dad” Alan admits. “And none of it for the better, I missed you so much” and he finally realises that he knew all along that his father was playing Father Christmas. Since he got back, there has been hope in his life again.

“I missed you too. I missed you all so much but I am back now, and I am never going anywhere like that again” Jeff reassures his youngest son. 

“Please don’t” Alan replies resting his head on his father’s shoulder, he can feel himself falling asleep here and he has never felt so safe before. 

Jeff is starting to snore when there is a loud thud outside. 

“Dad? What was that?” Alan asks, shaking him awake. 

“Whaaaa?” Jeff replies sleepily. 

“There is something outside” Alan tells him. 

“No there isn’t. Go back to sleep” Jeff replies. 

“Come on!” Alan says, trying to drag him to his feet. 

Jeff knows when he is defeated and allows Alan to lead him from their sanctuary to find out what is going on. 

Out by the pool, there is a sleigh parked which is housing eight reindeer. “DAD!” Alan shouts, “LOOK!” 

“Hello Alan, you are meant to be in bed!” 

“FATHER CHRISTMAS!” Alan exclaims in shock. “How? My brothers said you didn’t exist. But I knew you did, I just knew it!” 

“And that Alan Is why your brothers are getting a lump of coal each and your getting a plush model of your thunderbird” Father Christmas replies. “But you have to keep my secret, okay?” 

Alan nods. “Anything for you. I promise that I will always keep your secret” 

“Good, now go to bed and get some sleep” 

Alan is sitting up in his room when Father Christmas leaves, watching the sleigh fly up and away into the night sky with a “Ho ho ho” which he knows he is the only one who can hear. 

“Merry Christmas” Alan says to the retreating reindeer before he lies down on his bed, and for the first time in nine years Alan sleeps soundly in his own bed. 

*TB*

Christmas morning is a blur of laughter and present opening. Until there is only one gift left. 

“Dear Kayo,

Have a lovely Christmas 😉

Love from Gordon” 

“Gordon, you are the only person I know who can make have a lovely Christmas sound like a threat!” She tells him as she pulls the ribbon and lifts the lid from the box.

Lemonade explodes all over her. 

“GORDON!” She yells running her hand through her sticky hair.

“Gotcha!” Gordon replies with a grin.

“Oh you are lucky it is Christmas!” Kayo tells him laughing. “Truce?” 

“Yeah truce” Gordon agrees. 

“Excellent, I am going to check on the turkey” Grandma says.

Identical looks of horror flash upon everyone’s faces. 

“Merry Christmas boys” Jeff says with a grin. Glad that it doesn’t matter how many years have passed, somethings just never change! 

#thunderbirds are go #Thunderbirds 2015 #tag team secret santa #secret santa 2020 #Gordon Tracy #kayo kyrano #alan tracy #jeff tracy #Scott Tracy #John Tracy #Virgil Tracy

[gumnut-logic]

“You know, kid, I’ve been doing some research on you.”

Virgil froze in the door to his bathroom. He knew that voice. Oh god.

A glance over towards his sofa and yes, it was confirmed.

Kip Harris was in his living room.

He blinked.

What was Kip Harris doing in his living room?

Virgil became suddenly very aware that moments before he had wandered zombie-like out of his bedroom wearing little but a pair of pyjama pants and attended to his morning necessaries in the bathroom with his idol sitting on his couch in full view.

Thank god, he had shut the bathroom door this morning.

“Mr Harris? Uh, what are you doing here?”

“Gordon let me in. Said you’d be happy to see me.” Yes, that was a smirk on the older man’s face.

Gordon was so dead.

Kip snorted. “Don’t kill him, son. I was fully aware of what I was doing. Sally said you were having a bit of a low run. I thought we could take this opportunity for a little one-on-one.” He held up his left leg. It was wrapped in a cast. “Had a bit of a low one of my own. Thought we could share the boredom.”

“Really?” Okay, so it was higher pitched than normal.

“Why, sure. As I said, I’ve been doing a bit of research and I find myself admiring your work. Wouldn’t mind swapping a few stories with you, myself.”

Virgil was staring.            

“Of course, that’s if we can talk.” The man was grinning at him.

Virgil flushed scarlet.

More so than normal since he wasn’t wearing a shirt. “Um, I’ll just go get some clothes on first.”

“No, hurry. Though Sally’s laid on a breakfast down there. Something about O’Malley’s speciality?”

Virgil was staring again.

A blink and he was moving.

Red flannel was thrown on in a hurry. O’Malleys was not something to be toyed with. The family owned business was to steak what the Tracys were to rescues. Their breakfast menu was to die for.

Scott must have hauled it in on TB1 to get it here fast enough.

He offered Kip a hand up and the man deployed a pair of crutches. “I’d be very interested if you’d fill me in on how you and your brothers managed to get a panda off a plane midair.”

Virgil held the door. “How do you know about that?”

Kip grinned at him. “Oh, a little brother may have mentioned it. Something about you slicing off the entire rear end of a plane?”

“Really?”

“Well, it might be presumptive of me, but I believe your brothers are quite proud of you.”

Virgil froze halfway down the corridor. “Exactly how long have you been on Tracy Island?”

“Oh, long enough to be told several heroic stories starring you.”

Virgil didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or alarmed. He blushed either way while holding the elevator doors.

“Don’t you be worrying about it, son. It never hurts to have a proud family.” Something flickered across the man’s face for just a moment before the grin returned. “Though I have to say, young Gordon, was particularly enthusiastic. Did you really do that with a barbecue?”

Shit.

And Kip burst out laughing. “Oh, I can see why he does it. With a face like that, son, you’re just asking for it.”

Somebody was asking for it.

“Heh. I had one of those, rapscallion little brat. Drive you to the edge, but then risk his life to save yours.” He smiled down at Virgil. “Cherish him while you can.”

A frown and he relented. “Yes, sir. I do, sir.”

“And drop the ‘sir’. The name’s Kip.”

“Yes, sir.”

A flat stare.

“Yes, Kip.”

A small smile. “Much better.”

-o-o-o-

Virgil and the Last Straw

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds #Virgil Tracy #kip harris #nuttyfic reblog #came across this last night #thought it was vaguely funny #it needed to be after the mess I put Virg through before this scene #Kip Harris always reminds me of Em Harris

[renxamamiya]

Twin Stars

Late birthday present for @lenle-g! It’s been ages since I’ve properly written Thunderbirds fanfic and god it feels good.

A03 | 4.2k

“-and Gordon managed to catch it! You should have been there, John!”

Alan’s excited face as he recounted his recent mission shone brightly through the holovid. Earlier that day International Rescue had received a distress call in one of the National Parks in Thailand, where a couple accidentally collapsed into a previously unknown cave network unearthed by soft mud left from the recent monsoon rain.

John always liked to hear about Alan’s recent escapades down on Earth, the youngest Tracy’s enthusiasm infectious and delightful to hear that John couldn’t help but smile. He knew that for Alan, being part of a mission taking place on the blue, glowing planet below John’s feet was a rarity for Alan, the young boy having to always sit out just in case someone needed help within the reaches of their solar system - something that occurred more commonly as space travel continued to evolve rapidly. The young Tracy, unlike the majority of his brothers, had little opportunity to experience the different places around the World outside their Island home; and John pitied him.

“Well, that’s amazing, Alan,” John said, returning Alan's enthusiastic smile, while reaching for his coffee, taking a sip from his mug, thankful that artificial gravity was even a possibility on Thunderbird Five. Though he was in the rescuing ‘business’ alongside his brothers, he preferred to be out of the action, to be their watchful eye, their guardian angel.

“I mean, it’s better than having to perform system diagnostics on Thunderbird Five,” Alan said smugly, crossing his arms as he looked at John with some sort of smug superiority, “I know you gotta do it but it seems really boring, you sure you can’t let Brains take care of it?”

“I’m fine,” John assured Alan, taking another sip from his mug, “I’ve done this numerous times, and I don’t need to tear Brains from his work. Besides, I have EOS right here with me.”

“You mean your code baby?” Alan laughed, and John rolled his eyes, “I know you hate being around people but I mean, do you really hate people that much that you’d rather be around some computers?”

“I am not just a ‘computer’,” EOS piqued up, her childish voice sounding clear offence to Alan’s little nickname, “And John and I are progressing through the system diagnostic quite well, thank you very much. Ever since I became a member of International Rescue, there have been practically no flaws in the system’s code. Thunderbird Five is impenetrable.”

“For now,” John corrected the AI, “Remember, Havoc managed to install a virus in your software-”

“-Through an illegal and extremely painful form of brute-forcing my code!-”

“- and we need to ensure that our systems have as little vulnerabilities as possible. We can’t take that change. Ever.”

“Which is why I’m glad that I’m not doing any of that.” Alan laughed, trying to introduce humour to the rapidly tense atmosphere between creation and creator. It seemed to work, as John sighed, rubbing the back of his neck before remembering that Alan was still on the call.

“Sorry about that, Alan.” John apologised to the younger Tracy, “I didn’t mean for any interruptions during our call.”

“Aww it’s okay, John, I should be the one sorry. After all, I did anger the code baby,” Alan said, causing EOS to blow a raspberry (or play a sound clip of a raspberry) directed towards Alan.

“So, when are you coming down to Earth again?” Alan asks John, his eyes now staring at him with eagerness, “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“It has, but it’s normally busy for us this time of year, isn’t it?” John said, knowing that the change of weather and the encroaching holiday season meant more people being tired as most of the World is shrouded in dark and cold, meaning more opportunity for disaster. Alan’s face fell, disappointed that he would likely be seeing his elder space-loving brother way later than he wanted, and that John was right.

He groaned, crossing his arms on the table before nestling his head on top of them. He hated winter rescue missions, and silently begged for any divine being for there to be no disasters as the winter season encroached across the world. John cringed, suddenly realising what he had done.

“Sorry...” he mumbled.

“I’m okay, I’m okay.” Alan reassured his brother, swinging his head up from the table, and gave John a smile, “Just make sure you buy me a super cool gift, okay? I won’t accept anything less than a new hoverboard if you’re missing Christmas again.”

“Alan, I’m sure that Brains can build something much better than what you can get on the market.” John pointed out, and Alan groaned.

“Yeah but he’s busy,” he whined, and John rolled his eyes; yet he knew that it was Alan’s excuse to see John again back on Earth, even if it meant that the ginger astronaut was tripping on his own two feet for the entire duration he was there.

“Okay, Alan,” John relented, sighing as he put his coffee down, quickly turning his attention to multiple screens towards the side as to check the progress of his temporarily forgotten system diagnostics, “I’ll look over the possible models. Maybe, if everything quiets down this year, we can take a trip somewhere?”

“Where exactly?” Alan asks, and John smiles at how suddenly excited he looks.

“I don’t know. Other than Ohio to meet up with some friends, I’m leaving the rest up to you.”

“Oh hell yeah!” Alan practically jumps out from his seat, now restless at the prospect of travelling to somewhere different with John. Before he could say anything, John could hear the distinct call announcing dinner from Grandma. He turned to look at John.

“I’ll be back, John,” he informs his brother, “It’s dinner time, and damn I’m suddenly hungry.”

“Well, good luck with Grandma’s cooking,” John said, now feeling pitiful towards Alan as he smiled at his brother.

“Nah, it’s Virge’s turn, thankfully,” Alan said, “He’s making some really nice curry tonight that he found somewhere in Dad’s old cookbooks! Oh god it smells delicious! I gotta dash, John, talk later, bye!”

“Bye, Alan,” John waved just as Alan disconnected the coms. Getting up quickly to pour away the remains of his now cold cup of coffee, he sat back at his workstation, pulling up a message window, and typed requested some time off with Alan from Scott.

***

There was fire everywhere. Heat rumbled in his ears as metal cracked and splintered below his feet, flakes of wiring and globs of plastic dripped ahead of him as he carried his injured brother out from the rapidly collapsing space station, his arm around his neck.

John struggled for breath in his helmet as he helped Alan navigate the flaming remains of the wreckage, the oxygen that the failing life support provided was already being eaten up by greedy flames that continued to roar for more. The two Tracy’s were familiar with the danger around them and practised many times over the course of their careers to make miracle escapes, yet despite their almost divine-like lucky streak, the disappearance of their father for many years have properly ingrained in them that they too could not escape the threat of death.

“John?” Alan murmured as he quietly exited from unconsciousness, the wound from the heavy steel that struck the young astronaut from earlier in the rescue oozed blood, the crimson streaking visibly down his pale face alongside streams of sweat under his helmet.

“Yes, Alan?” John said, trying hard to give his brother a comforting expression as they shuffled through the deteriorating space station, “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

“-m fine,” Alan grunted as he looked at his brother through half-lidded eyes. Alan was not fine, John having the displeasure of witnessing a beam fall on his brother as they made their escape alongside the other members of the space station. Sharp, steel shrapnel sliced Alan’s skin as the station suddenly exploded, sending the youngest of the two brothers whizzing back, and John considered it a miracle that his baby brother wasn’t now blind in both eyes. “-at happened?”

John’s soft smile faltered as he heard Alan’s speech slur, Alan delirious from his sudden, violent impact onto the floor and the smog that choked his lungs. John had the displeasure to witness Alan’s slip out of consciousness, minutes before he struggled to get Alan’s helmet on as he breathed heavily within his own.

“You got caught in a blast,” he replied shortly, turning his attention to the path before him, “Some metal shrapnel scraped your skin pretty bad. It’s a miracle you only got away with that scratch.”

“Oof,” Alan commented, and John struggled to swallow the urge to scold him right there and then. What Alan did there was reckless, staying seconds longer at that malfunctioning console then John had advised him to, he didn’t need to be the one who had to man the console, he…

John shook the intrusive thoughts as he grunted audibly, mustering the extra energy he needed to push forward, his muscles screaming from the previous aches of having to pry open functionless doors and pushing away obstructing debris. He turned to check on Alan again, his eyes still half-open, unfocused as he kept his gaze looking at the floor before them.

“How far are we to Thunderbird Three?”

“Not far,” John answered, just able to see the airlock they used to board the space station past another set of doors, relieved that the glass has been damaged to the point of shattering thanks to the surrounding heat. He breathed in a deep breath, the air in his helmet stale and hot while the muscles in his legs ached. When he had managed to reach the sanctuary of Thunderbird Five, he had to revise his own exercise routine to work more on his leg muscles, he thought to himself.

“We’re close now, Alan, just hold on tight, okay?” John said. Alan's only response was a grunt of acknowledgement, and John wondered if his words were meant to console his younger brother or himself. They both continued to trudge towards and through the broken glass of the last door dividing them between certain death and salvation, John helping Alan through the jaded glass, anxiety choked him at the idea of even a small bit of glass scratching through the fragile material of Alan’s spacesuit.

“-Mmm we there yet?” Alan said, and John uttered a quick ‘yes’ as he again draped Alan’s arm around him. They were so close. So so close.

“There you are!” one of the astronauts said, and John ignored their impatient glare as he quickly typed Thunderbird Three’s access code, exhaling the tense breath he unconsciously held as the access hatch opened up invitingly. John gestured with a quick nod of his head, an invitation for the scientists to follow him into the rocket before quickly shuffling inside with his brother, heading towards the cockpit.

“Easy does it now,” he muttered, lowering Alan gently into his seat, taking off Alan’s helmet to allow him some semblance of fresh air. Alan gasped deeply, and then coughed as John quickly checked his wound. The gash was noticeable, yes, and he feared that it was too deep to be properly taken care of while in space.

“-m gonna be okay, John,” Alan huffed, and he lightly swatted John’s hand away in annoyance, “You’re as bad as Scott,”

“It’s a good thing that the other astronauts don’t have any injuries,” John thought to himself, annoyed that Alan was acting so childish despite being injured. He reached for the First Aid Kit that was located in a compartment that was snugly under the dashboard, quickly taking out a padded gauze and antiseptic, before disinfecting Alan’s wound, the youngest hissing in response.

“John, we don’t have time for this,” Alan said as he again swatted John’s hand away from him, “We need to go, the station is about to blow,”

“Alan, please I need to take care of it now,” John warned, pouring a small amount of antiseptic onto the gauze before pressing it onto Alan’s head, earning a loud hiss from the boy, reaching for tape in order to hold it in place, “You’re bleeding, and I cannot take the risk of it getting infected,”

Alan replied with nothing, too tired to put up anything other than weak grumbles and hisses as the antiseptic made contact with exposed flesh. John quickly patted the tape down on skin before dashing into his own chair, settling down and making sure he was secure before reaching over the controls, undocking Thunderbird Three from the faltering space station before departing, engines blasting in full throttle to ensure they didn’t blow up alongside the inevitable bomb beside them.

They were a few minutes in their flight back to Earth when Alan’s vision as someone cleared up, his eyes picking up the low rumble of Thunderbird Three’s rockets and the astronauts quietly muttering amongst themselves. He closed his eyes. Over the course of his rescuing career, he learned to appreciate moments of stillness and rest; though the rush of adrenaline of brushing against death was an addictive, thrill-seeking activity he couldn’t get enough of, the aftermath was less pleasant, and he still remembers the numerous injuries he had gotten as consequence for not allowing his body to rest.

He turned to John, his older brother’s expression focused and serious, arms tense as his hands gripped the navigation controls tightly. Alan swore he could hear the fabric strain by how tight John’s grip was, and could see his jaw clench tightly - something he did during high moments of stress and anxiety.

“John, you okay?”

“I’m fine.” John suddenly snapped, looking at with sad, angry eyes. Alan flinched, not used to John’s anger, the middle brother always being calm and detached emotionally to the point of numbness, almost like a machine, always listening and level-headed.

John noticed Alan’s flinching, and suddenly he shrunk with a guilty look on his face.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Alan,” he said, and Alan replied with a nod, “I just… I just thought you’d...”

“Hey, but I’m okay, I just got a bump, that’s all.”

“But it could have been worse.” John emphasised, looking away from his brother’s eyes and onto the scenery of space in front of him, “Even a tear in your suit could have been...”

“John, I’m fine, really.” Alan reassured his brother, and felt less tense as he saw John’s arms relax, “Honestly there’s no point in worrying about what if’s anymore. The mission is pretty much done and we can relax.”

“I know Alan, but I can’t help it.” John admits, swallowing nervously, “It’s a habit. You know how anxious I get, and just seeing you there unconscious… I know you’re more than capable of participating and even leading missions, Alan but… but no matter how many times you’ve been on missions I can’t help but worry.”

“I’m not a baby, John.” Alan fake pouts, and John laughs weakly.

“I know, but you’re my baby brother. That’ll never change.” John said, “and because you’re my baby brother, I don’t think I, or any of our family would stop worrying about you.”

“Yeah yeah, I get it.” Alan mumbles. The two brothers sat there while John continued to navigate them home.

“Hey, John?” Alan piqued up.

“Yes, Alan?”

“Thank you for rescuing me back there.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Please, don’t tell Scott.”

“I don’t think that’s non-negotiable.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” John laughed, “If he saw you getting injured in the report before I had the chance to tell him, it’ll be my life on the line next. Unless you can save me, of course.”

“I don’t think even International Rescue can save you from the wrath of Scott going all Mom-Mode.” Alan joked, and John couldn’t resist the urge to let out a humorous, warm chuckle.

***

“John, can you tell me what mom was like?”

John looked up from the tablet he was reading to see Alan’s blue eyes peer into his own, his face half-obscured by shadows cast from the setting tropical sun, blue skies turning a gradient of rich red and orange. He tapped the power button of the tablet off before he put it down on the coffee table in front of him, allowing the spaceman to turn to his youngest brother.

The topic of their mother came up numerous times over the course of Alan growing up. She passed on too early in his life for Alan to remember her, only able to build an image of her in his head through pictures and old recordings that the family had kept safely throughout the years, still only able to daydream holidays with her, memories too young to properly remember the real, organic sound of her delighted laughs echoing in the small rooms of the ranch house they used to live in. John could only pass sympathy to Alan, him feeling as though he took for granted the moments he spent with his mother watching the stars twinkle at night from high, dusty hills, her shared enthusiasm for the stars and space and the beyond now echoed only by the telescope and old fashioned textbooks she silently left behind.

“Sure, Alan,” John replied to his brother’s inquiry, not brave enough to ask him why their mother had again sprung among the forefront of his mind. Alan predictably had a detached relationship with their mother, asking why his brother and father cried with such fervour around the time of her birthday and had looked at them with curiosity when a whiff of perfume from some passing stranger was sometimes all it took to make their eldest brother violently tear up. He felt sad with his mother’s passing, yes, but to him, it was more akin to losing out on something the other brothers shared so strongly. John understood empathised somewhat with this feeling; being the middle child meant that the time spent with his mother was not as fleeting like with Gordon and Alan, yet he was not so close with her as to feel the sizeable hole she left within her passing as she did with Scott and Virgil. A sweet spot he was awarded from the timing of his birth: one that allowed closeness with his mother, but also the distance in grieving when she passed.

“Well, she liked orchids and space, and enjoyed the smell of baked bread and the grass after he had rained-.” he started with practised cadence, the list of what their mom was like rehearsed through the many, many times Alan had repeated the question to him.

“Yeah, I know all of that.” Alan huffed, impatience getting to him from having listened to the same words over and over again, “I wanted to know what she was like when she had me.”

“Why the sudden curiosity?” John asked. Alan shifted in his stance.

“Well...” he said, now looking away at John in embarrassment as he reflexively rubbed the back of his neck, “My friend from my online class, Billy; his mom’s having another child, and that got me thinking...”

“About mom.” John finished, Alan sighed.

“Yeah.”

John grinned, amused at Alan’s sheepish behaviour. He nodded in reply and waited for Alan patiently as the younger brother made his way down the small steps into the circular lounge, sitting on the space next to the seasoned astronaut and waited for John to start with a patient gaze.

“When mom had you...” John started, closing his eyes momentarily to cast himself back into two decades ago, “I remembered there being the four of us at the time, of course. Gordon was always running around causing trouble in the house, mom trying to catch him while she was six months pregnant with you. I remember days where we helped her around the house whenever we could, mom too tired from having to take care of four sons while you were on the way. I uh, also remember some weird foods she had us pick up whenever we went into town with Dad.”

“Like what?”

“Pickled eggs, sometimes Hot Cheetos dipped in ice cream. I remember distinctly mom wanting nothing but imported durian for an entire month.”

Alan almost gagged at the list, John laughing gently at his reaction.

“That’s how I felt as well. Even the mention of durian still makes me a bit sick.”

“Yeah, yikes. Sorry, you had to endure that bro.”

“Unless you had direct control of mom’s cravings, you have nothing to be sorry for, Alan.”

“Well, not that I remember,” Alan said, and John raised an eyebrow, curious as to where this conversation was heading, “Unless of course, my alien baby instincts were controlling her the entire time!”

He positioned his index fingers around his canines, moving them around if they were mandibles as he made absurd sounds that John could do nothing but laugh at how ridiculous Alan was acting. Alan soon joined in, the two of them laughing in amusement before calming down to soft giggles.

“Haha, very funny, Alan,” John said, gathering his composure yet again, Alan grinning proudly at his joke. Silence drifted between them, John looking at his brother carefully as Alan thought of another question to ask him.

“John?”

“Yes, Alan?”

“How did mom react when she was told that she had me?” Alan asked, “I mean, having five boys does sound quite a handful.”

“Actually, mom wanted another son,” John recalled, and Alan looked at him with bewilderment, “You should have seen Dad’s reaction, however. Though he loves you dearly, I remember him hoping that we would have a sister instead. Gordon was especially pleased, as your arrival meant he would have someone to play with when Scott and Virgil were especially busy; Scott was just happy he’d soon have an excuse to get Gordon out of his hair.”

“What about you, John?” Alan asked him, and John shrugged.

“I don’t really remember what I thought,” he admitted, reflexively looking away at Alan for a bit as he tried to recall that particular memory, “I think I was just… indifferent.”

“Indifferent?”

“I think during that time, space was all I cared about, honestly.” he sighed, “I knew mom and dad wanted another child. It wasn’t exactly my place to protest, so I mostly kept quiet during mom’s pregnancy. Gordon was practically bragging to his friends about you, though, and I think both Scott and Virgil were happily anticipating your arrival as well.”

“Yeah…” Alan trailed off, John noticing Alan’s saddened expression.

“Alan.” John cautiously said, “What’s the matter?”

“I dunno.” Alan mumbled, giving John a half-hearted shrug, “I just...”

“What?”

“Dunno… disappointed that you didn’t really react much, I guess?”

“Oh.”

Silence again fell between the two brothers, tense emotions occupied the void left from the previous conversation. John looked away from Alan in embarrassment and shame, and Alan looked away in turn, the idea of staring at his b.

John suddenly chuckled to himself, Alan looked at him curiously.

“Why are you smiling, John?”

“I’ve just remembered something,” John said, looking up from the floor to meet Alan’s stare, “Something you used to do when mom and dad weren’t around.”

“What was it?” Alan asked, and John’s grin grew wider.

“Whenever I had a book out, about the stars, you’d always crawl up to me. Even when you were six or seven months old and Scott was too busy trying to get Gordon out of trouble you’d just sit next to me while I was reading. I think back then you thought I would read you a story there and then.”

“Did you read your science textbook to me when I was a baby?” Alan half-joked.

“Eventually.” John smiled, “You’d never leave me alone otherwise.”

“Haha wow,” Alan said, “Doubt I would have understood anything though.”

“That is true, but you were a diligent student when you weren’t drooling on the pages,” John said, fondly remembering helping an infant Alan trace the constellations in his book with his finger, a memory in which he still remembers fondly.

The two brothers continued to talk about tales from Alan’s infant years as the sun fully set and the moon rose in full, John recounting fond memories of messy dinners and sunny days out, and Alan listened intently, imagining them as his own.

“Hey, you two,” Scott’s said casually towards John and Alan, both of them interrupted by their vacation into nostalgia as they both turned to spot the eldest holding a cup of coffee and looking tired, no doubt still intending to get some work done before heading off into bed, “What are you guys doing?”

“Nothing much, Scott.” John answered before Alan did, “Just talking about some old memories with mom.”

“Well, don’t stay up too late, okay? Alan you need to get up to take that test tomorrow, and John-”

“Yes, Scott. No late-night projects. I understand.”

Scott gave the two of them a satisfied smile before he turned to walk off into the villa, the two brothers watching him until he left.

“You know, with Scotty around, it’s almost like mom never really left,” Alan said smugly, and John couldn’t help but laugh.

#dan's log #txt #thunderbirds #john tracy #alan tracy #thunderbirds are go #fanfic #mywriting #myfanfic

[olliepig]

Waiting in the Wings Ch 2

The next chapter is finally written! Massive thanks again to @willow-salix for reading through it last night and making sure it actually made any kind of sense.

It can also be read in full on AO3 here.

***********************************

Two weeks after Penny’s party, Cat sat in the chair in her dressing room, getting her hair and makeup done for the show. Usually, it was time she used for quiet reflection on the work that had led up to that moment as well as time to focus on the upcoming performance but the events of the past 14 days seemed determined to seep into her head and take up residence. As promised, she had heard from Scott the day after the party and she smiled to herself as she remembered the sudden jolt of excitement that had gone through her when she’d seen his name flash up on her phone. Their messages had started out as a means of simply catching up on what they’d missed from each other’s lives but they had slowly shifted focus and increased in quantity to become an ever-present discussion about their daily lives.

The first time she was aware that he had been called out on a rescue had thrown her and a frown crossed her face as she remembered the doubts that had crept in about their continued friendship at that point. Her concentration in rehearsals had taken a nosedive while she knew that he was risking his life somewhere. That distraction was a threat to her laser focus on everything she did with her dancing and made her seriously weigh up whether it was prudent to continue their budding friendship or not. The irony of that, given his reasoning for breaking up with her in the first place, was not lost on her. However, something in the back of her head kept niggling away, telling her not to make any decisions too rashly, so despite the unpleasant experience of fretting until a message lit up her phone several hours after he had got home, she had carried on. A ground rule had been established though - if they were to be friends, he had to let her know as soon as he was back from a rescue.

Continuing to automatically move through her usual routine, her mind wandered back to the party and she could suddenly feel the sensation of Scott’s arms around her waist and see the smoulder in his eyes as he had held her right before she had left. It wasn’t the first time that memory had popped up unbidden at the most inopportune moment and she took a deep breath to try and ground herself before she got lost in a daydream. She didn’t need or want a relationship right now, and certainly not one with someone on the other side of the planet. She shook her head to clear it, trying to ignore the dawning realisation that he had become both the first and last person she thought about each day. Without those piercing sapphire eyes and rakish grin in front of her to draw her in, she was almost able to convince herself that they were going to be able to maintain just a friendship. Almost.  

Hair and make-up complete, Cat gathered up her shoes for the night and headed up to one of the big studios to begin warming up for the performance. Walking through the hubbub of a big company starting the preparations for a show brought her back to the occasion of the night.  Being asked to dance on the night that one of the patrons of the company was to be in the audience for was something that might have made others nervous but the fact that the patron in question was also her best friend meant that it didn’t faze her in the slightest. However, she did have to admit to herself that having not one but two members of arguably the most powerful family in the world there that night too was definitely something that would be hard to ignore. She shook her head in annoyance. This daydreaming was not the sort of behaviour that had gotten her to where she was today as a principal dancer with one of the best ballet companies in the world. She had always prided herself on being able to compartmentalise everything else that was happening in her life while she was dancing and she wasn’t going to let a certain Tracy derail that. Squaring her shoulders, she determined not to think of him again until after and stepped into the studio where Mark, her partner for the night, was also warming up and shot him a smile. Putting everything else to the back of her mind, she concentrated on making sure her body was completely ready for what was to come before heading back to her dressing room to change into her costume and complete the transformation into the young peasant girl Giselle.

****

“Honestly, you’re just as bad as each other! Contrary to popular belief I do know how to behave in public you know” the young man replied huffily to his big brother as their car pulled up outside the Royal Opera House.

Seemingly oblivious to the stares of passers-by and audience members alike, Gordon Tracy jumped out and ran around to open the door for Lady Penelope Creighton Ward, who was followed closely by the heir to the Tracy empire. The white columned building seemed to tower above them and Scott took a moment to take in the scene before hurrying after his brother and Penny, making their way together through the opulent front of house areas towards the private box that was to be theirs for the night. The year he’d spent with Cat had been filled with her telling him repeatedly how beautiful and special this theatre was but none of that had prepared him for the reality of walking into the auditorium for the first time. He’d been to plenty of theatres over the years and, while the older ones tended to have their charms, he had to admit that he generally saw them as just a place in which he had to sit and watch something he wasn’t particularly interested in for a few hours. There was something about this one that definitely felt different although he struggled to put his finger on the reason for that. The sheer opulence of the twin red velvet curtains embroidered with royal crests in their centre corners, the ornate gold of the proscenium arch and the four tiers curving around in an elegant horseshoe combined to take his breath away and for once he found himself speechless. It was a far cry from the ultra-modern and somewhat soulless theatre he’d watched Cat perform in before and he could finally understand why she had always dreamed of performing there.

Penny smiled to herself as she watched the two men’s reactions to the place. Like Cat, she had once harboured dreams of dancing on the Opera House stage and the place still held a special place in her heart. Being a patron of the Royal Ballet was her way of staying connected to that world and she always delighted in introducing newcomers to it whenever she could.

“What do you think then? Will this do for a night out at the ballet?”

“It’s beautiful” replied Gordon immediately, still taking in the sight of countless red seats in front of them. “I’ve never been anywhere that looks quite like this before.”

“How about you Scott?”

Scott could only manage to nod in agreement, still trying to imprint the scene in front of him in his mind and only vaguely aware of a ruby red programme being pressed into his hand by an usher as he took his seat. Coming back to himself, he realised that the conversation in the box had moved on without him so he let his mind wander and was not surprised to find that it returned to the events of the previous weeks that had brought him to this point. Despite his carefully cultivated image as a carefree bachelor, he’d found that he enjoyed having someone to share his daily life with more than he cared to admit. It wasn’t news to him that he didn’t actually have any close friends left, having prioritised his duty to his family over all of them a long time ago so being able to talk regularly with someone had definitely helped to assuage some of the loneliness he occasionally felt. He hadn’t felt able to share any of the unedited realities of his work with Cat yet but it had definitely felt good to be able to just talk normally to someone outside of his family. Just having a slice of what he remembered ordinary life had been like in amongst the endless rescues and paperwork reminded him of what he’d missed out on over the years.

He had to admit that he’d been surprised at Cat’s reaction the first time he told her that he wouldn’t be in touch for a while because he was going out on a rescue. Having not really had to deal with an outsider’s perspective on International Rescue before, he hadn’t even considered that there might be anything for her to be worried about as nobody on Tracy Island batted an eyelid when a call came in. It was only afterwards that he realised how unnerving it must be to know that someone you care for is going into a dangerous situation that you know nothing about. Reflecting on it later though, he had no idea why he’d ever thought that she might not be affected by it as she cared deeply about everything and everyone. It was one of the things he had loved about her before so he was happy to agree to her condition of letting her know as soon as he was back safely. Really, he thought as the lights began to dim, it was the least he could do.

****

“Wasn’t that wonderful? How did you gentlemen find that?” Penny asked, turning to her guests as the lights came up again at the start of the interval.

“Why were there so many villagers? I didn’t see the point in them and I didn’t really understand all the mime either. But I think I’m enjoying it” answered Gordon with a small frown.

“Well that’s good to hear. And how about you Scott?”

“It’s how I remember ballets being when I saw them before to be honest. There’s been a lot of faffing around so far but not really much dancing…” Scott tailed off, surprised to find that his voice felt rather thicker than he expected.

“Well personally I think it’s being beautifully danced, especially by Cat and Mark. They’re both wonderful and have such a lovely partnership. You could really feel and see their relationship developing as the act went on and the betrayal at the end was just wonderful.”

“I’ll grant you that actually. That definitely packed a bit of a punch that I wasn’t expecting” Scott conceded. His throat was still oddly tight and he found he was strangely unwilling to admit that the first act had affected him, especially the end with Giselle’s discovery of her lover’s deception leading to her sudden madness and death.

Further discussion was interrupted by the arrival of an usher with 3 glasses of champagne that Scott gratefully received and handed out to his companions.

“Wait, is that it? Are we not getting ice creams?” asked Gordon, eyeing up the tray suspiciously, as if it were hiding something.

“Why would you think we were?” asked Penny with a raised eyebrow and a small smile.

“We did when Scott took Alan and I to the pantomime.”

“When on earth was that?” Penny had certainly never imagined that any of the Tracy boys would have even heard of a pantomime, let alone been to one.

“Don’t you remember Scott?” asked Gordon looking at his big brother for confirmation that he wasn’t making the whole thing up. “It was when you were at Oxford and we came over that Christmas because dad was too busy. You took us to the panto and Alan spent the whole time pretending he wasn’t enjoying it when he really was. We got ice cream at the interval and I thought that was just what you do at the theatre…”

“I think that’s more for kids but if you really want one, I think I saw a kiosk in the foyer. You could always go and ask.” Scott smiled, his heart swelling with the realisation that his little brother had remembered that trip to the pantomime many years before. Gordon bounded out of the box grinning like the Cheshire cat, leaving the other occupants of the box in his wake.

“You really can’t take him anywhere” Scott commented to no one in particular.

“On the contrary. I think it’s rather sweet.” Penny picked up her programme, effectively ending further conversation and Scott followed suit, conscious that the conversation was perhaps straying into an area that was not yet comfortable for his friend. Their peace was soon shattered however, as Gordon burst back in, flushed with the success of procuring not one but three cornettos.

“I got you both one too. It’s our new tradition” he exclaimed, handing them around. The three of them spent what was left of the interval in companionable silence eating their ice creams and sipping champagne, each lost in their own thoughts as the theatre filled back up and the lights dimmed for the start of the second act.

****

As soon as the curtain calls were over, Cat and Mark breathed a sigh of relief and chatted on the stage enjoying the typical post show exhilaration of a job well done. Around them, the stage started to fill with a mix of invited guests, company management and stage technicians, all with different priorities and jobs to do. In amongst them all, Cat could feel herself getting restless and couldn’t help but keep looking into the wings for the arrival of her friends, wondering what was taking them so long to arrive.

The arrival of their coach was a welcome distraction and Cat quickly ended up deeply embroiled in conversation with him and Mark looking at improvements they could make for their next performance. It was something that never took more than a few moments, with the bulk of the work being done in the studios in the days to follow but it was reassuring to Cat to feel in control of her work. Like most dancers, she was a perfectionist through and through and had never felt comfortable about not addressing corrections straight away when they were fresh in her mind. Catch up finished, Cat glanced up from her conversation just in time to spot the group she was looking for.

“Penny! I was wondering when you’d get here” Cat exclaimed running over. “Gordon, Scott it’s so lovely to see you both again” she added, feeling slightly more flustered than she’d have liked by the intensity of Scott’s gaze when she caught his eyes and suddenly feeling very unsure of herself.

“You were wonderful tonight darlings. Congratulations.” Penny gave both Cat and Mark big hugs in appreciation, knowing just how much work went into preparing for the show.

“Thank you. We were pretty happy with it, all things considered. What did you both think?” Cat asked the two men present, suddenly feeling a lot more nervous than she had before.

“It was amazing!” Scott enthused. “I’ve never seen you dance like that before. The first act was good but the second half really went up a notch. The way you were lifted up like you weighed nothing was incredible. You could almost believe that you really were a ghost.”

Scott had been surprised at how much he had actually enjoyed it as ballet in general really wasn’t the sort of thing he’d watch, especially one that told a love story that involved an entire act full of vengeful spirits. It definitely wouldn’t have been his first choice of how to spend an evening but he found himself thinking that he was perhaps wrong to have written it off before. While it wasn’t something he would want to go to every day, he could definitely be persuaded to go to more, especially if a certain ballerina was dancing.

With a start he realised that his introspection had taken him away from the conversation and he realised with horror that he hadn’t heard a word of Cat or Penny’s replies. He tuned back in just in time to hear the tail end of Gordon’s verdict.

“… was much more what I was expecting.”

“No offence Gords,” he cut in before anyone else could speak “but how did you know what to expect? You’ve never seen a ballet before!”

“No,” Gordon admitted, straightening slightly and with a look of defiance about him which didn’t go unnoticed by anyone. “But I did look some up because I knew we were coming and I didn’t want to be going in blind. I couldn’t remember which one we were coming to though so I think I ended up watching some of Swan Lake instead.” he added, turning to Cat apologetically.

“Gordon you never fail to surprise me” Penny laughed as Scott simply stared at Gordon, his mouth slightly agape.

“Well, I’m very glad you liked it.” Cat smiled. “We’re actually doing Swan Lake later in the season. I can see about arranging tickets so you can come and see it if you’d like?”

“Yes, that would be lovely” Gordon replied, with a big grin that was at least partly directed smugly at Scott. That would teach his brother to assume that he knew nothing about culture.

Looking around, the group realised that the stage had all but emptied and they headed back to the dressing rooms for Cat to get out of her costume and ready for the night ahead. Walking ahead of the rest, Mark and Cat slipped arms around each other’s waists as they chatted amicably. This cosy looking walk was a post-show ritual that they’d had for years and Cat had always loved the way it defined the boundary between the intensity of their on-stage relationship and the close friendship that they’d shared since she’d joined the company and they started regularly dancing together.  

To Scott however, it seemed anything but friendly and innocent. Confusion reigned in his mind as he was certain that there had been plenty of opportunities for a boyfriend to have been mentioned over the past 2 weeks. While no hint of one had been given, that certainly wasn’t the impression he was getting from the dancers in front of him and he suddenly felt very foolish for any hopes he may have harboured of a romantic reunion. Feeling surprisingly alone at that revelation, he glanced behind him to speak to the others, just catching sight of Penny slipping her hand into Gordon’s to a look of total adoration from his younger brother. He looked away quickly, embarrassed at having caught a private moment that had certainly not been intended for his eyes.

He still didn’t officially know what was going on between them although both he and the rest of the family had their suspicions. Gordon had been unusually tight-lipped about anything to do with their London agent, and the only time Scott had tried to ask the answer he was given was so vague that he thought that he was actually more confused afterwards than he had been before. Whatever it was, he felt very much like a third wheel and even if the circumstances weren’t quite what he had hoped for, he was very much looking forward to adding another member to their group for the remainder of the night.

****

Following a quick shower, Cat felt that it was most definitely time to get out of the theatre and start the more relaxing part of her evening. First though, was the small matter of making it through the throng of autograph hunters at stage door. The rest of the party hung back while Cat made her way through the groups which filled the public area inside at the stage door and spilled right out into the street. In between signing autographs and talking to fans, Cat couldn’t help but keep stealing glances at her friends, and at one member of the group in particular if she was honest with herself. Penny and Gordon were engrossed in conversation but somehow every time she looked up Scott seemed to be watching her. She couldn’t help herself and kept holding his gaze for just a fraction of a second longer than she should before looking away, finding the flutter of excitement that stirred in her stomach each time addicting.

Scott, meanwhile, was finding it very difficult to reconcile the girl he had known back in Richmond, Virginia all those years ago with the one in front of him now. Back then, there had been barely anybody waiting for the dancers after a show and he remembered clearly standing alone at the stage door with a single red rose for her on more than one occasion. Earlier in the week when he’d pictured how this evening would go he’d never considered that she might have fans waiting to speak with her and he couldn’t take his eyes off her as she made her way through the crowd, chatting to everyone, taking photos and signing programmes as she went.   Endearingly, as she moved between people she would glance up as if to check that they were still waiting for her, catching his gaze each time for what felt like just fractionally longer than it should be. He was finding it very difficult to tell and the uncertainty of whether it was purely a look of friendship or whether her glances were a sign of something more was driving him mad. Not being a man who did well unless he knew everything about a situation, these looks combined with his uncertainty about her relationship with Mark was like torture for him.

After what felt to Scott like hours, the last autographs were signed and the group assembled outside. Knowing that Parker was waiting outside the front of the theatre to take them back to Creighton Ward Manor, they made their way round to him in high spirits for what the rest of the night would bring.

#Scott Tracy #Gordon Tracy #Penelope Creighton Ward #Vague pen and ink #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds 2015

[bonsaiiiiiii]

Fic where Jeff invites a mysterious woman on the island? There you go.

🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭

Jeff had just come home. He managed to hug his children again without the fear of them disappearing into his arms striking, like in his recent dreams. He was getting used to his mother offering him a taste of her kitchen as soon as she could, although he knew perfectly well that that was just a way for her to reconnect with him. He was getting used again to the rays of the sun, to the wind that struck his face, to the clouds in the sky, to the noise of the ocean. He was getting used to the smell of his house, a scent he was sure he couldn’t feel anymore in his life. He was getting used to Tiger, that loving cat that was always running around and stumbling on his feet. He was getting used to being able to enjoy a decent meal, to drink fresh water or even a simple fruit juice, enjoying the flavor he had not felt for so long now. He was getting used to dressing in clothes that were currently comfortable, abandoning for a long time the suit he had worn for 8 endless years, he was getting used to the bed that seemed a cloud made especially for him to sleep on.

Even though he was getting used to it all, he still felt something was missing. Something he hadn’t seen, and felt for a long time, even before he disappeared. Now Jeff was sitting at his iconic desk, something he’d missed a lot, admittedly, and was thinking about what he might possibly miss. Her mother appeared from the kitchen with a cake that currently looked good in her hand.

"What is that great mind of yours thinking about, son?"

How much he missed his mother. He couldn’t even imagine how much he missed her. "Nothing, Mom." He was happy to say it, to be able to talk to his mom again. "I was just thinking about someone I haven’t seen in a long time.. and I wondered how he was."

"I understand...and do I know him?" Sally said, putting the cake on the desk, right under Jeff’s eyes.

He smiled, looking at the wonderful chocolate tart that his mother had just brought him. "I think so, Mom. I just want to ask if I can call her here on the island."

"Call her?" She raised a confused eyebrow.

"I mean, the person. I would call her here if possible."

"Oh well...of course you can. This is your...territory, after all. Anyway, do you want to try the cake I made you? I tried to do it the best I could; tell me if it lacks sugar, or it’s too dry, or maybe if-"

He interrupted her, laughing. "I’ll let you know, don’t worry." he said, taking a slice that she had cut him a little while ago and biting a piece of it.

"Uhm..." he considered the words precisely as he chewed. "... it’s good, but maybe you put too much cinnamon."

"Oh my gosh! I’ll make you another one!" she said, trying to get the cake back, but Jeff stopped her, reassuring her with a big smile.

"I like it the way it is."

That’s when Alan came down from his room, yawning slightly. His eyes lit up as soon as he saw the steaming tart on his father’s desk.

"Cake!" he exclaimed cheerfully, trotting to the desk.

He was about to take a piece, but Sally stopped him immediately. "No, this cake is for your father!"

"Ugh! But he shares..."

"Of course I share, son. Help yourself." Jeff was getting used to these family squabbles, too, and found them the most beautiful thing about his return to Earth.

Alan smiled softly, immediately taking a slice of the cake, probably ignoring the look of his grandmother. He gave a small moan of pleasure right after tasting the tart. "It’s very good! You know, Dad, Grandma’s cooking got a lot better now that you’re here!"

"You mean it wasn’t good what I used to do before??" Sally pretended to be offended, even though all three in that room knew perfectly well that Alan was right. Maybe it was the fact that her son has just returned and that the family is now a little more full, but now Grandma Tracy was cooking much better than before. It was as if to reunite with his son had her rejuvenated much, also improving her culinary skills.

Alan widened his eyes, almost terrified. "...I have to do my homework bye." Once that was said, he ran out of the living room, ignoring the unflattering calls of his grandmother, who presently followed him upstairs.

Jeff chuckled to himself, finishing the slice of pie he had started, and then brought a hand to his chin thoughtfully. He forgot what he wanted to do...oh yeah, he had to call her. Knowing that the person in question would not be available via the communicator, he took out the cell phone that was kept on Tracy Island only for emergencies, also pulling out the old paper contact book with all the different numbers of various acquaintances. He quickly went through the phone book, and then found the number he was looking for, hoping with all his heart that the person had not changed his phone number in all these years. He dialed the number on his cell phone, and then stopped shortly before his finger touched the green phone to make the call.

What if it was all just stupid? She was a person he hadn’t seen for too long now, and inviting her to the island would be an impossible mission. She had certainly changed very recently, but he absolutely wanted to see her. He breathed a deep sigh, starting the call before changing his mind, then taking the phone to his ear and waiting. This started ringing, so this could only mean that she had the same number after all these years.

One ring, and Jeff looked at the ceiling biting his lip.

Two rings, and Jeff looked down again.

Three rings, and he involuntarily began to play with the edge of his white shirt.

Four rings, and he took a deep breath.

There was also the fifth ring, four more before it reached voicemail. Jeff was about to pull the phone out of his ear to close the call when suddenly the ringing stopped, a sign that someone had actually answered the call. But even before Jeff had a chance to say something, she was the one who talked.

"I was just waiting for your call. It took you long enough!"

"Sorry. But you know what it’s like, business. I should talk to you."

"Good. Tell me, what can I do for you?"

"Can you come to the island? Do you want to come back to see me after so much time?"

There was a silence, almost unnerving for Jeff, on the other side of the phone, but finally she talked once again.

"Yes. When?"

"Tomorrow? I’ll send someone to take you to the island."

"Then until tomorrow." The other person hung up without saying anything else.

Jeff sighed deeply, putting his hand through the thick gray hair. Now all that remained was to wait.

○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

'Tomorrow' was finally here, and Jeff was so excited. He had not been able to sleep all night, and yet at the same time he would never have thought to try a similar feeling. He had cordially asked Lady Penelope to meet with this person and bring her to the island, of course after providing all the necessary details. The Lady immediately nodded, and now had just sent an update, warning that she and the secret guest were arriving in about 10 minutes.

Jeff had sighed again, vaguely answering questions from his sons and trying to ignore the curious looks of his mother and Kayo. He waited a whole night to see her again, 10 minutes won’t be long.

"There she is. Lady Penelope is here." Scott broke the silence in the living room, and Jeff found himself currently surprised by the time it had passed so quickly. He made a deep sigh, and then watched intent the entrance from which Lady Penelope and she would enter.

As usual, her scent made itself felt even before she entered the room, but this was what he liked most about her. Even Sally noticed it immediately, because she immediately frowned her eyebrows, confused. "Wait...I recognize this perfume. Don’t tell me she..."

"Jeffss!" A vibrant female voice, which was not that of Lady P, interrupted Sally’s speech attempt, and in a few moments a woman who should not be older than 30 appeared on the doorstep like a ghost. She had a straw hat on her head that covered half her face, and dark blue sunglasses that covered her eyes.

Jeff smiled, and the woman imitated him. Then he spread his arms, and she walked swiftly towards him, embracing him almost immediately.

"Ahh, I’ve missed you all these years! You look like an old man, let me tell you." she pointed out, looking him in the face.

When the mystery woman broke out of the embrace, all eyes were on her. Before she could say a word though, Sally practically pounced on her, enveloping her in a warm embrace. "First my son comes home, then you show up again...I’m so happy..."

"It’s good to see you too." When Grandma Tracy also walked away from the mysterious woman, only the confused looks of the 5 brothers remained.

"Dad, Grandma...who is this woman?" asked Scott without taking his eyes off the mystery woman.

"Now, now, let me introduce myself." Instead, the woman answered him, and then took off her hat and glasses, revealing long black hair and smooth large green eyes, big like those of a fawn. "I am your grandmother’s daughter, who is my mother, and the sister of the mythical Lord Jeff."

"Lord Jeff? That’s new to me." Jeff interrupted laughing.

"Lord Jeff my Savior?" she asked laughing back at him.

"No. Lord Jeff my knight." Sally continued red in the face, holding back an attempt to laugh.

"Is Old Jeff okay? Yeah."

"No." Jeff expressed his disagreement by placing his arms around his chest.

"Yeah. Anyway, my name is Alexis, and I’m the youngest of the two. Actually, I’m the last born, am I?" Jeff nodded his head. "So I would be the smallest of the brothers. Are they your children?"

"... now I remember you. Are you that girl who always used to babysit me? That one that would take me to pubs of all sorts when mom and dad weren't home?" Scott asked thoughtfully.

"What?" Jeff asked whispering, launching deathly glares directly at Alexis, that looked away embarrassed. Scott, that had just realized what he had said, just laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Uhm...then you still remember me! Even Parker immediately remembered me, apparently." Alexis said after a moment of awkwardness.

"Yes, h'you were the most disobedient' student h'in my driving class." Parker interfered in the conversation with his usual strong accent.

"Yeah, but now I can drive, and thanks to who I can do it?" Alexis replied by running to embrace the chaffeur, rather than embracing him she had trapped him in a hermetic socket from which Parker was trying to free himself.

"Let me go, Miss. Alexis."

"No. You’re my favorite and it’s my obligation to hug you."

"The squeeze-hug gene has always run in your family. And that’s fine." Parker sighed, returning the hug.

"You know, Lex, I didn’t recognize you at first, I have to admit." Lady Penelope approached Alexis smiling.

"Neither did I, you know? I saw you a couple of times when you were little, but then we lost touch."

"About this...where have you been all these years, Lioness?" Jeff asked looking at her.

"So...now I run an art gallery in Florida, and I couldn’t be happier."

"An art gallery? Really? And I bet your house is near the ocean."

"You couldn’t have been more precise, J! Both the house and the art gallery are located near a very nice beach, which of course is private only for me. You know how long it took me to get it?"

"I believe it. Sometimes I’ll come and see you...I figured you’d be near the beach because you’ve always been a pretty sensitive person, and the loud noises in the city don’t make you very happy. Anyway, I’ll introduce you to my kids! Come." answered Jeff, laying a hand gently on Alexis’s back, pushing her slowly toward the couch. "He’s Scott, but I think you already remember him." Jeff started by pointing to his eldest son, who smiled.

"Yes, I remember him and Virgil well."

"Yeah...now I remember you too! You always used to take me to art galleries when I was little!" Virgil said, his eyes almost sparkling.

"Oh, look at you! Aren't you the sweetest? You kept the same look you had when you were little! Come here, pal!" Lexi answered, squeezing Virgil too in a tight hug. She made a sign for Scott to join the big hug, and he nodded immediately, hugging her tightly too. Then they detached from the hug, but Alexis was standing between the two, encircling her arms on the shoulders of each brother, while the two eldest did the same.

"Then he is John, my third son. Then he follows Gordon, and finally Alan, who is the smallest of my children."

Alexis remained silent for some time, thinking of something. Then her gaze became worried, and she sighed a great sigh before speaking.

"Big brother...what have I missed all these years...?"

"Do you still remember her?" Sally wondered, as Jeff looked down on the sad ground.

"What happened to her?"

"She didn’t..." Jeff whispered closing his eyes, placing his hand on his chest and making a deep sigh. At the same time, Jeff’s five children were looking confused at the situation, having no idea who this 'other mysterious woman' was; but just 3 of them looked back and forth slowly between their father and their aunt, estranged. Scott and Virgil knew, though, who was the woman they were talking about, and their bodies immediately stiffened. Alexis noticed that.

Sally sighed slightly, touching her son’s shoulder. Alexis looked down at the floor. "Sorry...I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories."

Jeff slowly shook his head with a fake smile on his face, waving his hand as if to dissolve that speech. He didn’t like to talk about his wife, now that she wasn't with them anymore, and his kids didn’t seem to have any idea who they were really talking about.

"Anyway, what about you? You disappeared for quite a while." she continued, trying to enlighten the mood.

"I like to create intriguing situations." said Jeff pretending to be heroic. "Well...I’ve been more or less confined to outer space for eight years, alone and without communication to Earth."

"Oh wow, that’s a lot! But at least look on the bright side."

"Oh, why, is there one?"

"You took a nice vacation from this crappy world."

Jeff stopped to carefully consider that idea. "... taking the situation from this point of view, I had never thought about it..."

"See? If I’m not there, you never think about positive situations!"

"That’s your gift, love. You’ve always had the ability to look the best in each person." Sally smiled, and then carried a hand over her chest.

Alexis remained silent for a moment, and then rubbed her hands between them, while Scott and Virgil crossed their arms on their chest, visibly calmer now. "So, where’s my welcome cake?"

"Ah, you still know me so well, I see."

"No...I smell burning, Mom."

"What...oh shit, the cake!" Sally swore softly, and Alexis found herself laughing deeply, her laughter sweet but crystalline at the same time.

Even the five brothers laughed cheerfully, and when Jeff also stopped doing so he looked around with a big smile on his face. Now everything was complete, even if only for a couple of weeks, considering his sister’s business.

I missed all this.

(If you're interested I'm gonna explain Alexis' age and the two bros' age gap, or at least how I imagine it lol. I think I'll reblog this post and explain accurately eheh.)

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfic #Jeff Tracy #Scott Tracy #Virgil Tracy #John Tracy #Gordon Tracy #Alan Tracy #and Alexis Tracy #sorta an oc #Grandma Tracy #Kayo Kyrano #Brains? Maybe?

[tsarisfanfiction]

An Important Part

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Gen Genre: Family Characters: John, Scott, Alan, Tracy brothers

Another contribution to @gumnut-logic‘s #iirelief, using the prompt “any (adult) bros - the last slice of chocolate cake” from @fictivekaleidoscope.

John’s care packages sometimes contain a very special box.

The weekly supply run for Thunderbird Five was a vital one.  Sometimes it was a task undertaken by Alan, feeling claustrophobic on Earth after a prolonged stint of no space missions and eager to jump at the chance to see his older brother in the flesh.  Most often, it was a more sedate affair, with the space elevator being lowered for the nicknamed ‘care package’ to be placed inside by someone who was usually but not always Grandma.

This week had been the sedate affair, although aside from the lack of a brother invading his personal space for an hour or so, John had no issue with it.  His brothers were busy, too, after all.  He knew that because he was the one that sent them out. Still, it was always nice when Alan rocked up in Thunderbird Three, teenage swagger overlaying an honest desire for a hug from his most elusive brother.  John didn’t despise all human contact, he just wanted it on his terms. Preferably in space.  Sometimes another brother came along for the ride, too – Scott, most likely, with Virgil only mobilising if he suspected something was wrong, and Gordon generally only if he was escaping something Earthside for a few hours – and John welcomed them all with metaphorical open arms, if not always literal.

But lack of brothers aside, a care package was a care package and it always came with a few treats on top of the regular supplies required for his continued residence in space. Updated terminals and modules from Brains, fresh medical supplies from Virgil, homemade cookies that always managed to get left in the airlock from Grandma, and a pile of astronaut-approved food supplies were a given.  Cheeseburgers snuck their way in often.  A new book – ‘new’ being a relative term, considering that the printing business was almost defunct in their electronic era – occasionally appeared courtesy of whichever brother had found it.  Gordon was particularly good at scavenging those up, and John had long since ceased to ask him how.  He knew, anyway.  Hiding online activity from Scott was one thing, but there was nothing electronic on Tracy Island excluding the most secure things in Brains’ lab that Thunderbird Five didn’t read as a matter of course.  Especially since EOS came to live with him.

He could have done without some of her discoveries, particularly those concerning his brothers’, uh, ‘me time’. Explaining that to her had been a challenge he was not keen to repeat any time soon.

Today’s treat was his favourite.  It was messy, and would have him unhygienically licking at his gloved fingers for hours afterwards, but the small box containing a slice of chocolate cake – not homemade, some sacrileges to baking were never to be undertaken – was worth every last crumb he’d be carefully hunting down later when they tried to get into the life support system.

You see, it wasn’t just any old slice of chocolate cake.  Oh no.  It was the last slice of chocolate cake.

There was a rule in the Tracy family.  If there was cake – especially if it was chocolate cake – the last slice went to John.  As far as family rules went, it wasn’t as old as some, but it was the most respected of all. Not even Gordon dared break it, or pretend to do so.  Once the rest of the family had had their fill, the final slice was carefully, almost reverently, placed in a secure box designed to keep its cargo safe and intact during transit through Earth’s atmosphere and put aside to be included in the next supply run.

It hadn’t always been that way.  Then again, John hadn’t always lived in space.

As with most families of multiple hungry boys, the final piece had once been a prize awarded to the fastest eater – a race most often won by Scott, in their childhood days. Older, bigger, and faster, he’d swoop in and snatch the final piece before the others were even halfway.  It earned him bragging rights, which he smugly turned into ‘eldest brother privilege’, and the mutinous glares of four younger brothers.

Then John had moved out, away from raucous family dinners and fights for the final piece – still won by Scott, even though Virgil was getting bigger, Gordon was getting sneakier, and Alan was getting faster.  He’d watched instead, from a safe distance of twenty two and a half thousand miles above their heads, as Scott pulled tactic after tactic learnt from years of being the eldest to bring victory to himself again and again.

He didn’t miss the noise, or the claustrophobic feeling of gravity pulling at his bones.  He didn’t miss the fights, or the way Scott somehow always won.  But as he gnawed on a rehydrated bagel and watched them stuff their faces full of deliciously moist chocolate cake, just shy of gooey, he missed being part of it all.

It was Alan that figured it out.  Scott might be his big brother, tuned in to all the things that could possibly distress him, but back then even his famed big brother instincts – notorious long before Gordon’s so-called squid sense entered the scene – weren’t used to the distance and missed the occasional thing.  Alan didn’t notice a thing, but he asked the right question at the right time, and a quiet admittance to his youngest brother – not even a teenager yet – that the thing he missed most was sharing a chocolate cake with them sparked a revolution.

Alan didn’t spill his secret.  Young though he was, he knew the brotherly code inside and out after having witnessed four older brothers live and breathe it his entire life.  Private confessions were not to be shared with anyone else unless absolutely necessary.  But Alan was smart, and had been steadily getting faster.  Scott Tracy was about to be dethroned.

John was watching – of course he was watching – when it happened.  Scott reached for the final slice of cake, cocky grin on his face as he basked in the surety that no brother would defeat him in the race, only for his fingers to close on air.  Alan had been getting fast, and a simple switch of targets from the cake itself to the plate it rested on yanked it neatly out of Scott’s predicted reach.

He also hadn’t finished what was on his own plate, a point Scott was quick to point out.  Torn between the rules of engagement and finally seeing Scott’s reign come to an end, Gordon and Virgil had stayed quiet, watching.  Then Alan had played his final card.

“John hasn’t had any.”

As blindsided as his other Earthbound brothers by the proclamation, John had been able to do little more than blink as the icy waters of revelation doused Scott, hand still hanging in mid-air where the cake should have been.

“John-” he’d started, stopping and retracting his hand back to his empty plate.  Blue eyes turned to him, pinning him with a look that sat somewhere between surprised and guilty.  It wasn’t a good look for him.  “Do you want it?” he’d asked after another moment, during which he’d presumably weighed up his reputation and unbroken reign of final slice competition against his ingrained instincts to look after his brothers, and decided in true Big Brother Mode that it was a sacrifice worth making.

It was probably the only sacrifice Scott had ever made that John felt wholly, unashamedly, pleased about without even a shadow of guilt or concern.

“I like chocolate cake,” he’d replied, somewhat dumbly considering he was supposed to be a communications specialist, but it had got the message across perhaps better than a simple ‘yes, I do’ could ever have done.

Scott had launched almost immediately, snatching the plate back from Alan before bundling inside Thunderbird Three without even the right clothes on, and John had greeted a dishevelled older brother holding a plate of chocolate crumbs and icing that had once been a cake before losing a battle with g-forces during the ride in a rocket at the airlock.

It hardly counted as cake at that point, which Scott’s crestfallen face had realised as soon as he’d set eyes on the mess he’d presented him with, but John still considered it the best chocolate cake he’d ever had and waved off all apologies as he devoured it before sending Scott home with the dirty plate and a promise to hug Alan for him.

They’d devised a much better transportation system since then, and now he was always greeted by a recognisable slice of cake, rather than a pile of crumbs and icing, but the presentation really didn’t matter to John.  What mattered was that it was the final slice, surrendered without a fight to him by all of his brothers because even if he was twenty two and a half thousand miles above them he was still one of them.

#irrelief #irrelief2020 #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #john tracy #alan tracy #scott tracy #gordon tracy #virgil tracy #chocolate cake #family fluff #an important part #tsari writes fanfiction #thunderfluff

[willow-salix]

How about I throw out a new chapter?

That'll be nice for a Saturday, right?

Meh, have one anyway.

Here's a snippet:

Selene grabbed a slice of pizza from the box on the table and dropped down onto the couch next to Gordon, uncaring as to the fact that he was barely dressed. When you watched him dive in and out of the pool in his Olympic issue swimming speedos just because he felt like it, you were pretty much desistized to anything.

She took a bite and made a face, it wasn’t the best pizza she’d ever had, not that that would stop her, she started to chew. Tonight was definitely the time for comfort food and pizza, even when bad, is still pretty good.

“Why are you in my flat?” she asked around a mouthful. She chewed some more and swallowed quickly when she saw the look on his face. “Not that I mind you letting yourself in, you know you’re always welcome. But I thought you were with Penny for the whole weekend.”

Gordon shrugged casually, but his eyes flickered towards the discarded pile of clothes on the floor beside the couch. It looked like one of his new suits and really shouldn’t have been treated in such a way. The jacket was scrumpled in a ball and the pants left where they had fallen, the shirt lay tossed over the arm of the couch and the shoes had been kicked off haphazardly, one lying under the table while the other had flown clear across the room to land by the dresser.

“Didn’t feel like it once I got there, I left Penny to her networking and caught a cab back here as I wouldn't have been able to get into the manor.”

Selene scowled, that wasn't like him, he was one of the more social Tracys and, since he was still relatively young, he usually jumped at the chance to spend time off island if he could. A party or a dinner was usually greeted with great enthusiasm. She decided to ignore that for now, he'd tell her in his own time. Years ago she would have pushed him more, but now they all knew her well enough to know that she was there to listen whenever they needed her and would seek her out if they wanted to.

"How was the conference?" she asked instead, swiping his bottle of beer, one of John's he had obviously liberated from the fridge, and taking a sip. "You must have been so excited to be asked to speak."

Again he shrugged. "It was OK, I'm pretty sure they only asked me out of courtesy for Penny and because it looked good to have someone from International Rescue on the schedule. It was pretty boring really."

"Why did you say yes then? It's not like you don't have a good excuse to get out of anything you don't fancy."

"Penny said it would be good for me to start making a name for myself, she's right, I'm not getting any younger-"

Selene snorted at this, Gordon was only 26, he had his whole life ahead of him. Although, if anyone knew that your life could be changed or even snuffed out at any moment, it was Gordon, so she kept quiet.

"She said that I should start thinking about my long term plans. We can't be doing International Rescue full time forever and, while we do have enough money to never have to work, you know we'd all get bored. Everyone else seems to have a backup already, John does his remote lectures and writes his books, and you know that he's always being called on to consult or collaborate with someone for something or another. Virgil has that fancy engineering degree of his, he's always tinkering around with Brains and the things they invent together could keep them busy for years to come. Alan is all fresh and new, he's already making a name for himself online with his team ups with Brandon, and Scott could walk into a job with the air Force or the GDF without even pausing to ask, then there's me, no college education, no specialist subjects-"

"Bullshit," Selene cut in. "A college education isn't for everyone, just because you don't have a piece of paper doesn't mean you aren't smart or an expert in your field. Someone once told me that, because I didn't have that kind of higher education I wasn't as smart as them, that I wasn't capable of making decisions because I didn't have the same knowledge they did. But knowledge is subjective, babe."

Gordon snorted at that, he knew what it was like too, he knew how people would judge him as the dumb brother because he'd chosen a different path than the more academic one the others had taken.

"It's true," she insisted. "Look at John, as much as I adore that man, he's proof that all the book smarts in the world can't always compare to common sense or life experience. You can know all about astrophysics but if you don't know how to interact with people or how to survive in the world then you're fucked either way. You are amazing, you know science and biology and genetics or you wouldn't have made those beautiful fish or done so much for marine conservation and, no matter who you're dating, the Friends of the Ocean yearly conference would not have let you speak if you didn't know your shit."

"I know," he sighed, "but it doesn't always feel that way, you know?"

"Oh, believe me I know," she rolled her eyes and reached for another slice of pizza.

"I guess it's just hard to be surrounded by such high achieving brothers. I look at Penny and I think what is she doing with me? She would be much better suited to someone like Scott, or John, you know."

"I'm pretty sure that Cat and I would have something to say about that. Besides, look at me and John, it's not like anyone would put us two together. On paper we shouldn't work at all, we're far too different. Yet we do. You can't help who you fall in love with."

Gordon's eyes slid sideways to watch her, the tone in her voice telling him that she wasn't just talking about his brother at that moment. There was something there that spoke of past experiences that didn't hold good memories for her.

He frowned, a thought occurring to him, one that he just had to voice.

"Sel, why are you here? You don't have any clients booked, I know because you said that was why Scott had to drop me off, because you weren't heading back for at least a week."

Selene kept quiet, her eyes on her pizza slice. This wasn't like her, she usually needed to be prised off his brother and dragged away kicking and screaming. She liked to spend the majority of her time on the island with them even if John wasn't home.

"Did something happen?" Gordon's voice was quiet, comforting, not pushing her to speak but inviting her to confide in him if she wanted to.

"I just needed some space, some time alone," she finally admitted, still not looking at him as she fiddled with the crust of her pizza.

"Oh, do you need me to go? Sorry, I know I should have asked but I didn't know where else to go and I couldn't really face the questions back home." Trust him to burst in and make himself a nuisance when he wasn't welcome, it seemed to be the story of his life.

"No, you're fine," she assured him, patting his bare knee. "I get it. I don't need space from you, just your idiot brothers."

"Which ones, I have a lot," he grinned, relaxing a little now that they were back on more familiar territory.

"John and Scott."

His eyebrows rose at this. Scott he could understand, but she never needed time away from John, in fact she was always complaining that she didn't get enough.

"I walked out on my husband," she whispered, the slice of pizza hanging limply from her fingers. "He was upset and so was I but I left him, I walked out."

Gordon could not have been more shocked if she had suddenly grown a fishtail and whacked him in the crotch with it.

"Tell me what happened," he said, it wasn't a question, it was a silent demand, showing him to have the same authority that his father had, just in a more laid back package.

She didn't want to talk, she didn't want to drag it all up again now that she had finally calmed down from her breakdown at ten thousand feet. She didn't want to start thinking about it all again, but Gordon was there, all endearing face and big brown eyes that implored her to talk to him, to trust him. Maybe he wouldn't judge her too harshly, maybe he would understand. She risked a glance his way, seeing the firm set to his jaw, letting her know on no uncertain terms that he was not prepared to let this go.

"John punched my ex-fiance in the face and broke his nose," she answered, knowing she had no other choice.

OK, if he had thought her last statement was shocking this little revelation shot it into orbit.

"He…what? John? My brother John?"

"Yep, with the other dumbass tagging along for good measure apparently."

"OK, OK, give me a second to get my head around this, I need to process. My brother, the one that is usually so against violence of any kind, straight up punched your ex?"

Selene nodded.

"Come on, surely you aren't pissed off at him for that? He must have had a good reason for it!"

"Well, Nathaniel isn't a good guy at the best of times..."

"Nathaniel? I don't know about him."

Selene frowned, glancing his way again. Was he being honest with her right now, did he really not know? Surely if Penny knew then she would have told Gordon too?

“Penny didn’t tell you?” she asked, needing to clarify.

“One thing to remember about Penny is that she's very good at keeping secrets and knows how to keep things close to her chest. She only ever tells what she thinks you need to know,” he chuckled lightly but to Selene's ears it lacked his usual humour, sounding a little flat. “So, spill, I’m all ears. You know that a problem shared is, well maybe not a problem halved but at least you won’t be suffering on your own.”

Selene smiled softly, he really was the best boy. She'd admit that if she had to pick someone to open up to and talk to about her problems, Gordon probably wouldn’t be at the top of her list, but in times like these he reminded her of just how awesome he really was. It was easy to forget that he could be serious, it often got lost in the bad jokes and his general enthusiasm for life, but that didn't mean that he wasn't as dependable as the others.

"It's a long story."

"I've got time," he gestured down to his almost naked self and the half eaten pizza. "Not like I'm going anywhere."

Selene paused, did she really want to dredge it all up again? The answer was no, but, whatever Nathaniel did as retaliation, and there was no question that he would, was bound to spill over into all their lives. They would all find out sooner or later, hell, it seemed like half of them knew already, it would be better for it to come from her in her own words.

"We're gonna need more beer,” she sighed, tossing the half eaten pizza slice back in the box.

Read the rest here on Ao3 ➡

#gordon tracy #john tracy #scott tracy #selene tempest #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds fanfiction #paranormalromance #thunderbirdsarego #witch #chapter update