#thunderbird two

[darkestwolfx]

TAG Transcripts | Masterpost

So, I'm making a start on organising all of my previous content and I'm starting with Transcripts!

And the reason I'm starting with these is because when I came back and was able to look at messages etc (as opposed to the late night reading I made fanfics) there were a lot asking about these with quite a few questions - so firstly, Q & A;

Where can the transcripts be found? They can now be found on this masterpost, but also back on my 2016 post!

Are all the episodes available? Series 1 is complete, Series 2 is mostly complete, Series 3 is unstarted

Will I finish them? Yes, if there is this level of interest of course I will, but episodes can take a while to transcribe so it may not be a quick process!

Do I make a profit? No. This is something I started doing as a fan, for fans as someone who's previously found issues with subtitles not appearing or being incorrect.

Can I download a copy? Yes, from my mediafire links in word or PDF format

Why can't the documents be edited, copy & pasted? The documents are password protected, yes, because a lot of work goes into them and if they're going to be re-distributed I would appreciate the credit or an update of where they're being shared, so no they cannot be directly copied and pasted

Feel free to reblog and share though, Thunderfam, as these were made for you to enjoy!

And before there are questions as to where the link can be found on this masterpost, let's put that here!

Above is the link for the TAG transcripts (I have TOS completed but will post this separately).

What can be found here at the moment:

Series 1

in Word & PDF format

25 files per folder

All episodes completed - Ring of Fire is in one combined set

Series 2

in Word & PDF format

Available episodes - 17; Earthbreaker (1) City Under the Sea (4) Colony (5) Up from the Depths I (6) - will be added shortly (amending pieces) Up from the Depths II (7) Volcano (14) Power Play (15) Bolt from the Blue (16) Attack of the Reptiles (17) Grandma Tourismo (18) Clean Sweap (19) The Man from TB5 (20) Home on the Ranch (21) Long Haul (22) Rigged for Disaster (23) Inferno (24) Hyerspeed (25) Brains vs Brawn (26)

I will aim to finish the episodes outstanding here and then start on Series 3, but this will be amongst all my other work but I will do my best to get there!

Okay, I think this is the part of the post where you can cheer for joy :)

#thunderbirds are go #gordon tracy #scott tracy #john tracy #alan tracy #virgil tracy #jeff tracy #brains #grandma tracy #kayo #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderfam #thunderbirds transcripts #TOS #TAG #MAX #thunderbird one #thunderbird two #thunderbird three #thunderbird four #thunderbird five #EOS #the hood #the mechanic #sally tracy #darkestwolfx #mediafire #international rescue #IR #tracy family

[writerpyre]

*comes back from Real Life™️ to thrust this at people if you’ve not seen it yet*

#pyre talks #thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #fandom #thunderbird two #tb2 #tb2 schematics #eeeeeeh #concept drawings #Derek Meddings

[idontknowreallywhy]

A little WIP piece for our favourite Musician’s birthday.

I really really really meant to have completed the ceiling paint mystery one for today but it’s messing with me and I can’t get the ending right, so I’m compensating by starting yet another fic (with my usual music-nerd theme) promoted by my chats with the well of inspiration that is @astranite - thanks for letting me mess around with this one.

Blitzed out in my lunch break and entirely unproof-read… but if I don’t post now I’ll keep prodding it instead of actually doing my job so…

THE SOUND

“I know what the post-flight readouts say, Brains!”

He breathed in for an adagio 4 then out for the same, allowing the white hot knot of tension between his brows to ease a little. The gap it left behind it was immediately filled with the hollowness of guilt that he’d let himself snap at his old friend. He dug his fingernails into his palms and summoned the overly-calm baritone that was most effective when cajoling his elder brother into something resembling a reasonable response to whatever the latest apparently world-ending catastrophe was.

“I trust your creations and your protocols, I do, but I need you to trust me too. I know her and I know she sounded… off.”

“Off” was an understatement. Two had been shrieking at him all the way home. Oh, her habitual E-pitch purr was there, and the usual harmonics from ploughing through pockets of turbulence. Even the faint echo that told him her fuel tank was nearing empty… that was all a familiar part of the symphony. It was the extra note that made his teeth sting. That sharp wavering whine which defied his attempts to fix a pitch and filled his vision with flashing daggers of sickly neon green instead of his girl’s usual rich rainforest blanket.

Scott’s eyes flicked over to Gordon with an unspoken question. His wingman’s shoulders were a picture of awkwardness and he appeared to be trying to dig through the floor of the hangar with the toe of his boot.

“I couldn’t hear it guys… but you know me, I’ve got the musical subtlety of a rock. I shouldn’t get a say. Maybe we shouldn’t take her up again until Virg has had a look?”

Virgil caught his eye and focussed so hard on trying to convey his overwhelming gratitude that he moo-ed slightly. Coughing loudly to cover his own throat’s betrayal, he straightened and turned to his Commander whose exasperation was already tangible:

“I recommend that Two be grounded until Brains and I can complete a full systems check.”

Scott raised an eyebrow then his expression softened and he delivered a #7 variant of the Scott Tracy “Fine”. Virgil knew from the mid-range pitch combined with the slight increase in airflow towards the end of the word that this specific “Fine” meant “I should really be grumpier about this but I’m too tired and I know you’ll win me over anyway because you’re adorable”.

His long-suffering elder brother spun on his heel and tapped his comm as he walked away:

“John, Two is offline for 24 hours, please reroute anything One and Shadow can’t handle to the GDF.”

Virgil’s gaze had already narrowed on his beloved green behemoth as he pondered the most likely source of the disturbance when he sensed movement on the ground behind him. Gordon was knelt down on one knee, head bowed and the largest wrench in the workshop balanced on his upturned palms.

“Your battle sword, my liege.”

[Nerd note: Adagio is generally accepted to be between 55-65 beats per minute. So it’s a 4 second breath in.]

[Lore note: there are actually 16 Scott Tracy “Fines” and only Virgil can distinguish them all]

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #virgil tracy #scott tracy #gordon tracy #brains (thunderbirds) #music!virgil #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderfam #synaesthesia!Virgil #Scott Tracy says Fine #Gordon is an awesome wingman #music is everything #thunderbird two #the sound mystery #the symphony of two #idontknowreallywhy fanfic #Thunderfluff

[tinytracys]

#thunderbirds are go #tiny tracys #thunderbirds #thunderbirds action figures #thunderbird two #googly eye chaos

[tracybirds]

the bloop bloop bloop of pixels has called and apparently I’m doing more of these :D Have a lovely lil TB2 <3

#thunderbird two #don't look too closely at her wing that was sooooooo hard to even vaguely get right :D #thunderbirds #sometimes i art

[gumnut-logic]

Thunderchickens

Totally @gaviiadastra​ ‘s fault.

Original pattern can be found here by Bag-O-Day Crochet

I give you Thunderchicken potstands (because they aren’t big enough to be potholders due to the fact I didn’t have the right yarn). All mistakes are mine as I went off pattern and attempted to do my own thing - which is always scary :D

I just realised I stuffed up the pattern in the second one - play spot the difference. :D Also, Gordon would be happy as Four is actually bigger than Two somehow ::scratches head::

Nutty

(Twas fun :D )

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbird four #thunderbird two #crochet #potstands

[katiedido2]

Sky Pilots

#fabfivefeb

#fabfivefeb2023

This is for Fab-Five-Feb. I've had a certain engineer miffed with me because I wrote two stories about his kids spending time with his siblings and none about him spending time with any of his kids. And I should because they're his kids, dang it. And… he's not wrong. I hope this goes some way towards soothing the Virgil-beast's ruffled flannel.

Prompts used: underwater and favourite.

------------------------  

Sky Pilots

Alex was seated in the co-pilot's chair of Thunderbird Two, waiting for his father. They were flying - just the two of them - to Sydney to resupply the island. Alex was ecstatic to have time alone with his father on Thunderbird Two. In fact, he was so excited he had been sitting alone in the cockpit, communing with the ship, for a long time that morning. There was something about the big green ‘bird that spoke to his young soul. Kip might go on about the speed of Thunderbird One and blue horizons, and Jack might gaze wistfully at the stars and the blinking light that was Thunderbird Five in the night sky, but Alex knew the real gem of the five thunderbirds was Two. 

It was big and beautiful and carried all the necessary tools to help people. It was practical, and practical was Alex’s byword. Thunderbird One might go fast, but Thunderbird Two had pods with so many configurations he could hardly count. They could go up in the air, overland, underground and even underwater(!) to rescue people in need. And thanks to Mum and Dr Brains, Thunderbird Two could now safely help with rescues in space and underwater. Plus, with the help of some engineers and chemists they knew, they’d figured out how to make it go six thousand miles per hour. This made Two the most versatile ‘bird in the fleet. The other four were mere unitaskers, but Two, Two could do anything. 

Alex heard a metallic zipping noise and looked behind him in time to see Virgil drop in from the open hatch. He waited for his father to close the hatch and move towards his seat before announcing his presence. 

“Hi, Dad.”

Virgil stopped before sitting in his seat and looked in surprise at the bright Scott-blue eyes staring back at him from the co-pilot’s seat. He did a quick double-take, looking at the platform elevator before returning his gaze to his son. “Hi, Alex. How long have you been here?”

Alex glanced at the clock. “Since the small hand was on the nine and the big hand was on the one.” 

Virgil sat and looked at the display on his dash. It was 10 am. “You’ve been here nearly an hour?” Alex nodded. “What have you been doing?”

Tiny cheeks flushed. “Um, spending time with Thunderbird Two..." Virgil tried not to smile. "I looked at the section on Inflaterbags in the instruction manual.”

Dark eyebrows rose. “Impressive. Were you able to read much of it?”

“No. I asked Uncle Jay if there was a text-to-speech function for the manual, but he said no. He did think it was a good idea, though, and would talk to Dr Brains about adding the feature. After that, I mostly looked at the diagrams.”

“Hey, you can learn a lot from the diagrams. And Alex, that was some nice outside-of-the-box thinking.”

The blush deepened, and a tiny smile appeared. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Did you do anything else?”

Alex hesitated. “Well… I wanted to explore the drop-down turret functions but knew you’d want to be here when I did. So instead, I drew the dash and the interior of the cockpit.” He indicated the sketchbook next to him on the seat. 

Virgil blinked at his seven-year-old, and the corners of his mouth curled into a smile. “May I see your drawings?”

“Um, sure.” Ears pinking, Alex handed his father the sketchbook. He helped him locate the first page of that day’s sketches and sat back to watch Virgil look at his work. Alex was proud to have inherited his father’s artistic ability, but he was still shy about showing people his drawings. 

Virgil looked at the detailed drawings. There was one showing the dash and another the entire ship. There was a rather good overhead view of the cockpit. He could see Alex had put a lot of effort into it. Next was a picture of Alex and his brothers with 'their' thunderbirds: Kip, an impish, carefree flyboy in One; Jack, a proud space monitor on Five and Alex, looking cheerfully in command of Two. He knew it was a picture Rebecca would love. Last was a picture of the two of them, grinning like loons, flying Thunderbird Two. It was captioned, 'Thunderbird Two is Go!!!!!!!!!!' He smiled at it. It was his favourite of all of them.

“These are really good, Alex. I like the details in the technical drawings. I especially like this last one. May I keep it?”

“Really?” Scott-blue eyes stared questioningly.

Brown eyes twinkled in reply. “Yeah! I love it.”

“Yeah, okay." Virgil handed back the sketchpad, and Alex stowed it. "Dad?”

"Yes?"

"Would you talk me through your launch sequence? Usually, Kip is here, and I’m not able to pay attention.” Virgil glanced at his son, who shrugged. “What? He’s Kip.” 

Knowing his talkative, yolo first-born, Virgil raised an eyebrow but chose not to argue. “Okay, I can talk you through the launch sequence. But first, let’s get you buckled up securely. I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to you.” 

Virgil rose from his seat and saw Alex had placed his booster seat on the co-pilot’s chair and had configured the safety belt into a three-point harness. Feeling slightly redundant, he checked to ensure everything was in good order and, once satisfied, returned to his seat, where he fastened his safety belt. 

“Alright. Now, this trip is to resupply the island. Which module should we use?”

Alex wrinkled his nose in thought for a moment before replying. “Module two.”

“Why would we use module two as opposed to, say, module three?”

“‘Cause module two has the two chassis that can be outfitted to carry supplies, and three doesn’t.”

His father smiled. “Good.” He selected the second module and lowered the ship to secure it. “And now, we exit the hanger and taxi down our runway to the launch pad.” 

Virgil easily guided the green behemoth down the runway to its launch pad, talking Alex through each step. 

“Can I launch the ship?” 

“Can you reach the control?”

Alex extended his arm but, restricted by his safety belt, he was unable to. “No.”

Grinning, Virgil patted his shoulder. “Next time, kiddo.”

“Okay.” 

“Hey, don’t sound so glum. You’ll be able to reach it before you know it.”

“Yeah. But I’m tired of being short, though.”

“I’m not. Lemme enjoy these little years, uh? You and Kip will be taller than me before I know it.” Alex nodded. Virgil turned on the thrusters, and Two launched into the sky a moment later. Banking to the left, he looked to his co-pilot. “Wanna say it?” Alex’s face lit up, and Virgil laughed. 

“Thunderbird Two is go!” 

“Very nice.” The Tracy men grinned at each other.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“You’re welcome… Please don’t rub it in Kip’s face when we get home.”

“Dad...” Small nostrils flared. 

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “Hey, I was once seven with an older brother. Trust me, I understand. But it’s not a kind thing to do. He’ll have to do more flight time on more aircraft before qualifying to fly One. So, it will take him a bit longer to have the opportunity to say, ‘Thunderbird One is go’. Is that clear?”

“Yeah, okay… Maybe the next time we go somewhere together, he can say, ‘Thunderbird Two is go’?” 

Ruffling his hair, Virgil smiled at Alex. “That’s a great idea.”

“And we’ll have to let Jack have a turn, too. That’s fair.” 

Virgil’s smile widened. “Of course! It’s not only fair, but it’s also kind. I’m proud of you for wanting to include your brothers.” 

Goodness, how he loved this kid. Virgil loved all of his sons, but he and Alex vibrated to the same frequency. Kip might look like him, but Alex was him. This made him feel especially warm and fuzzy inside. Rebecca said it was like a flannel hug and called the sensation 'flannel fuzzies'. He had to admit, it did feel like an internal flannel hug. He was brought out of his reverie when he realized his son had asked him a question.

"Sorry." Virgil cleared his throat. "Was focused on the flying." He looked at his son. "What?" 

Alex rolled his eyes good-naturedly and smiled. "How many more years will Kip have to prepare before he can fly One? 'Cause I have another seven years before I can begin working towards my pilot’s license. Mum will be teaching Kip 'n me in Olivia at fourteen. An' you won’t let me fly Two before I’m sixteen... Remember?”

“Riiight.” Virgil frantically tried to remember the conversation where he had told Alex he couldn’t fly Two before he was sixteen. Or that he could fly Two once he was sixteen. Or that Rebecca would teach the boys to fly on her plane, a de Havilland twin otter. He couldn’t. With a small shake of his head, he made a mental note to ask Rebecca about this later. She remembered everything. “Um, yeah, of course. Olivia will be a good plane to learn on. And you'll want to ask Uncle Scott what he was required to do for his licenses.”

Alex seemed satisfied with his father's answer, and they were quiet for a few minutes as Virgil flew.

“Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“Wanna help me fly Two?”

Alex gasped. “Really?”

Virgil laughed. “Really.”

“YES!” He reached for the co-pilot steering wheel and tried lowering it. It wouldn’t move. “Nuts.” He looked at his father. “What do I do?”

“Wait for me to flip this switch.” Virgil reached up and flipped a switch, and the steering dropped down so Alex could reach it. “It’s a new feature I asked Brains to add. It lets us fly tandem.”

“So I’m not really flying, am I?”

“You are. You’re flying with me as opposed to by yourself. I want you to get a feel for how she handles before I let you loose over the wild blue main.” Virgil patted the dash. “She’s a responsive ship, but she likes a steady hand. And you’re not quite there yet… So, fly with me.”

Slightly disappointed but not about to let the opportunity pass him by, Alex nodded and reached for the controls. “Okay.”

“Good. Can you see the altimeter?”

Alex glanced at the dash. “Yes.”

Virgil explained what an altimeter did, what the various numbers meant and what was being measured by the device. “And that helps keep us in the air.”

“Oh. It sounds complicated.”

“Until you become familiar with it, yes. But it’s important for flying.”

Alex frowned. “I see.” 

Virgil smiled. “Don’t worry. You have a lot of time to learn about this and what all these other dials do. There isn’t a quiz for this flight.”

“Mum would have a quiz. She always has a quiz.”

“She doesn’t always have a quiz.”

“She does. Though personally, I think she does quizzes to keep Jack engaged and Kip quiet.” Alex was unprepared for his father to throw his head back and laugh. The sound filled the cockpit. Embarrassed, Alex watched with quiet dismay as his father convulsed in his seat, tears streaming down his cheeks. “You’re not going to tell her, are you?”

Virgil gasped for breath and tried to calm down. “Not tell her?” he wheezed, wiping away his tears. “It would be a disservice to your mother not to tell her.”

Alex looked alarmed and skeptical. Virgil laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “I promise you, she’ll be as tickled as I was.” 

“If you say so.”

“Trust me. Your mother will find it funny…So, are you ready to fly this ship?”

“Okay, let’s do this.” Virgil talked Alex through how to hold the controls and keep the ship in level flight. After a few minutes, Alex got the hang of it. “You’re doing great.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m going to ease off the controls, and for a few seconds, you will have control of Two. Are you ready?” Eyes elated but face serious, Alex nodded. “And three, two, one….” He slowly released the controls. “You’re flying the big ‘bird. How does it feel?”

Alex didn’t answer immediately. He was so focused on flying he feared he would be unable to also answer his father. Virgil saw his focus and didn’t press him for several seconds. 

“Okay, and I’m going to return my hands to the controls. In three, two, one.” Virgil took the steering in hand. Alex relaxed a little and let go of the co-pilot steering. “How was it?”

“That was awesome!” Alex glowed with happiness.

Virgil laughed. “You did really good. Did you like it?” Alex nodded. “Still worried about how much you have to learn?”

Alex shook his head. “No. Not anymore. I'll be such a good pilot, Dad. I'll make you proud. I promise!"

"You already do."

#fabfivefeb #fabfivefeb2023 #virgil tracy #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds are go #thunderbird two #Little Tracys #father and son

[katblu42]

Okay, so midnight has just ticked over here, so technically this is a tad late for Fanart AM now, but I decided to post this anyway. It's the second (well, actually it's technically the first) of my two bits of Thunderbirds art ever. I don't think I was brave enough to post this when I first drew it, so I'm inflicting it on you all now. (It was literally my first attempt at digital art ever, using Krita)

Big thanks to @gumnut-logic for organising Fanart AM2023.

The artists in this fandom are all truly amazing. I only wish I had the skill you all have!

#thunderbirds fandom #thunderbirds fanart #thunderbird two #i arted

[tsarinatorment]

When I joined @tagminibang2022 as an artist I fully expected to be drawing the boys as I usually do, but when it came down to deciding what to draw, the mental image that really jumped out at me was this:

Jeff made his way to the bed and the etching on the wall. Scott wasn’t much of an artist—unlike Virgil—but when it came to mechanical design he could draw well enough and the pictures of all the birds surrounding what looked like their island was enough to make his eyes water.

From @tenjounotora‘s fic What if... Scott where it was Scott who ended up on the Zero-X instead of Jeff.

Unlike Scott in this fic, I wouldn’t say I can really do mechanical design, and drawing the ‘birds was a challenge, but it was also really fun!  As it’s an etching, there was no room for mistake - or rather, no way of removing any wrong lines - so I refused to use the erase tool to clear anything up and treated it as though everything was irreversible (although I will admit to some cheating in the form of sketching them out first, which is a luxury Scott didn’t have).  It’s certainly far from perfect, but I hope it caught the essence of the description in the ways that matter!

#tagminibang2022 #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanart #thunderbird one #thunderbird two #thunderbird three #thunderbird four #thunderbird five #tracy island #scott tracy #jeff tracy #tenjounotora #tsari's art

[edorazzi]

Some Thunderbirds Are Go comics I’ve been working on over the last few weeks! Sorry to everyone but I’m completely obsessed with this show lately. Love these boys so much.

Feat. Scott getting some dopamine from Virgil, Gordon and Alan getting creative (inspired by a Distractible clip) and John forgetting how gravity works. I’ve got the scribble bug so lots more of these are on the way! 💖

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #scott tracy #virgil tracy #john tracy #gordon tracy #alan tracy #josie's art #did you know virgil is the second eldest?? i genuinely thought it was john because of the character lineup at the start #like why else list them as TB1; 5; 2; 4 and 3 unless it's in age order; especially when scott and alan are at each end like they should be?? #but lo and behold john calls virgil ''big brother'' at one point so i guess that's that #it makes sense that john is the slightly misfit (and ginger) middle child but i imagined virgil as the stable central one :'V #two brunets and two blonds on either side but where did HE come from huh #ANYWAY i'm only thinking about this because i love all these characters so much lmao. they're all my babies now

[peachssodapop]

Trying to figure out what's going on in Thunderbird's pixel art is harder than fighting the damn thing i swear

#loz #the adventure of link #legend of zelda #zelda ii #adventure of link #my art #no two people ever draw thunderbird the same from the handful of art i found #so this is my take

[darkestwolfx]

It's a Long Story about the Topiary

I have nothing to say about this that hasn't already been said. @tsarinatorment as I promised you this series was always going to have more written, and as you requested it, I got straight on with it!

I'll add fanfiction.net link once it generates! Notes: I don’t know how long awaited this may be for everyone who reads it, but I know for some it will be very important to them! So I hope you enjoy whether you are new or old to this little universe (that will not be staying little at all)!

This was something I fully intended to write before going away, so I’m pleased to have the chance to finish it and bring it to you all now. It seemed like the appropriate next add-on, but there are a few others also that I want to add also.

Might be best read after ‘A Seed Once Sown’ and ‘Afternoon Tea’ but it’s not a necessity as this fic will contain everything you’d need to make this a stand-alone read also.

And if anyone had noticed, yes, the title is a play on the song “long way to Tipperary”.

Also ages don’t particularly matter, but I’ve worked out based on what rough idea TAG did give us that when the boys rescued Jeff they were around the following give or take: Scott - 28, John - 25, Virgil – 23, Gordon – 20, Alan – 17 In case this is something people like to have in mind when reading.

Words:  6226

Summary: After Jeff returned home, there were a few things that needed explaining. Like the intriguing garden furniture…Chronologically, this is looking to be part 6 of International Gardening Services, but for now it's only the 3rd part written.

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

There were many things to get used to again by being back on Earth.

Gravity was a noticeable first and combined with sunlight – a noticeable second – they had quickly become his bane for several days. Jeff had never had the same struggle with returning to gravity that John did as a young man, but now he felt a little of his second son’s difficulty. No– a lot, he understood it a lot.

He knew the boys had worried, but after a week or so, he’d managed to prove to them that he was right as rain (if not a little unsteady if he rose too fast, but that resolved itself again in another week).

The third – almost sadly – was his mother’s cooking. After surviving on rations, the thought of a meal was heavenly, until it was “meatloaf surprise” served up before him. This was a new take on the dish, something his mother had obviously developed in his absence, but it was no improvement to her known poor cooking - nor the standard “meatloaf” which had come before it - and Jeff had to admit he (momentarily) wondered if he would be better off on rations again.

The fourth, was the realisation that his boys… weren’t really boys anymore, not even the youngest. In his absence, they’d grown up by themselves, taught each other what they needed to, and – whilst he could look upon them now with as much love and pride as he ever had – the realisation that they didn’t need him anymore was (more than) a little soul-breaking. He couldn’t say that to them either, not after everything those developments had allowed them to achieve, which included rescuing me.

No, it would be an insult to say he wished for the sons he left behind, but… he did miss– no, regret what he’d lost. He supposed the boys likely felt the same way, to have lost him for eight years, only to gain him back now when… well, when they didn’t really need him anymore.

Logically, he knew that wasn’t really true. Although he may have missed the formative years to still play the role of father, he would always be their father, and they would desire he be around as much as he wanted them to outlast him. That was the truth, but emotionally, it hit hard still.

That’s why he’d tried so hard, desperately fought to think of anyway to get home, and yet, no matter how much he tried, he still wondered whether it would be too late – for him or the boys, or the years they’d have lost.

It could’ve been worse: it could’ve been better, of course, also.

You could’ve never gone…

No, Jeff knew – as much as he knew his family did – that he could never have not taken that mission to stop The Hood, no matter what it cost. But if things could be different, just one time…

That was no longer worth torturing themselves with.

The fifth – and well, everything else that came after – was a mix of the more little things. Letting former friends know that he was alive and a bit less of the “former” could come back into play.

Making time to see all such people was a head-rush and not something he’d yet got round to even thinking about arranging. Except for Lee was going to return to the island. Jeff had been intrigued to hear the tales of the adventures his sons had with his old friend in his absence and Alan had eagerly agreed that he could make the trip to pick the Captain up as soon as the weather conditions on Mars cleared up again.

There was redoing his wardrobe, because for all he’d tried to keep his physique, it hadn’t been an easy mission and some of his shape had dwindled away, if not his strength.

There was learning all about the “new” things that had come into play over the last eight years, like home-made AI’s and Hypercars, and gecko gloves and deadly space lasers. Not to mention weather drones and giant allegators!

The drama wasn’t just limited to the field either, as apparently there was quite the stack of films he’d missed the release of that the family had watched on their movie nights (sometimes afternoons – “depending on the type of week we were having”, he’d been informed by Gordon) that they now needed to rewatch with him. The first of such had been two weeks into his return when the holo-screen just about looked straight, and it had been enjoyable to spend such effortless time with his family again, even if he didn’t understand why Virgil and Scott no longer shared the popcorn, each having to have a bowl of their own instead, nor why John had to sit tediously (it seemed) in the middle of them both whilst Gordon seemed to snigger even when the movie didn’t prompt it.

No, he didn’t understand that, but then, it was another thing he knew he must’ve missed.

------

It was in his third week of being back – balance and vision somewhat back in coordination – that he ventured outside. The poolside smelt of chlorine and chemicals, and yet it was welcoming in its own odd way. The deck chairs were still covered the same and clearly hadn’t taken anymore burning’s from Scott’s launches of Thunderbird One. Jeff supposed he was thinking quite some way back to when the eldest was first learning to pilot the craft: and of course there would no longer be such issues. There barely had been when he left!

It seemed easier to remember the past, because he’d not made many memories over the last 8 years, only the previous twenty lived on repeat for him: from the day Scott was born to the moment he left them to go on the Zero X mission.

Only those years had existed for him.

Sitting beneath the sun, feeling the warmth on his face was glorious and something else he soon realised he’d missed. Moving their lives to the island had been necessary for so many reasons – for International Rescue to be possible, for the secrecy, and for them to start again. And the sun and the sea had seemed a good thing to encourage some of that healing.

He felt it now keenly.

It was only after a while sunbathing that he opened his eyes, blinked twice and finally took in the growth of trees opposite the pool. The island was full of trees, yes, an entire jungle worth of assorted sprouts to be more specific, so these shouldn’t be anything worth noting, but there was something… they hadn’t been there when he… left.

They seemed now to border and block in the little garden area he’d cut aside for his mother when she’d insisted if they were moving to a tropical island that she still wanted a normal garden. So he and Kyrano had put some paving stones down from the stairway he’d made around the back of the buildings, and maintained a lawn amongst all the fast growing greenery. Kyrano had planted a couple shrubs in the centre and some plants around the edges, but that was the best Jeff knew he could manage to maintain. It wasn’t really a garden as such, but it had worked to keep his mum happy.

He’d wondered, maybe once or twice, how the boys would maintain it, considering they seemed to inherit his skill in gardening from what he’d remembered and so the last thing he’d expected to see were trees.

Curiosity piqued, he rose and strode around the pool’s edge to take a closer look.

The stone pathway still seemed to run towards the stairs and through to a gap in the trees near the pool, but once you stepped through, the enclosed space originally set aside seemed to double in size. The middle of the path was now replaced with a pond, but the slabs of stone curved around the circular feature and broke off to each side, making four straight paths away from the pond. There were a series of chairs on one part of the lawn and a rockery to the far side that seemed to be full of an army of– were those geraniums?

He hadn’t been aware when he left of any of his family having strong feelings about the pink flower, but hey, he’d missed eight years’ worth of development and choices.

It was better maintained than he’d expected from the boys and some of the plant varieties Jeff couldn’t even name! It was fascinating, and intriguing. From everything he knew and all that he’d recently seen, he didn’t doubt the boys had the artistry and heavy lifting to make such a thing, he was just… bemused, he supposed. Last he remembered, Scott couldn’t even keep a cactus alive, so this much had to be a challenge.

Maybe he was giving the credit to the boys when it had all been his mother’s or Brains’ work. Although, saying that, neither of them would have been able to do something like this alone he didn’t think.

It was all a mystery, but it had a nice view!

He’d made a note to ask the boys, but that evening also brought in the revelation of Kip Harris when he rang on the holo-channel to confirm when he was next coming for dinner, and that was the start of a whole new conversation – led mostly by Gordon (for Virgil was a little starstruck and Jeff didn’t think his mother was faring better) with Alan and Scott chipping in obligatory sound effects and John rolling his eyes from where he didn’t think he could be seen, tuning in up on Five as he ran a check of all the monitoring systems and caught up with EOS.

Apparently, the red head had only come away for a few days at a time in recent years, but from the day Jeff returned with the boys until early this morning, his second child had remained firmly on the ground with them all and he’d promised to be back on the morrow.

Jeff knew John loved Thunderbird Five from the moment it successfully found orbit in space, but he hadn’t ever thought the boy would take to spending so much time up there in recent years.

But then, once again, you haven’t been here for eight years.

------

It wasn’t until the week almost turned into the fourth one since his “return to earth” – as Alan and Gordon had begun to tell time on the calendar, using “before leaving earth” and “since returning to earth” to reference pieces of conversations (and it was helpful for him, not that Jeff would admit that to his trickster pair of children) – that he remembered he’d never asked about the garden.

They’d been swept up in Alan’s graduation and a proper catch up with Lady Penelope and Parker. The old chap never changed and told him all about how he’d taught “Mr Gordon and Mr h’Alan Sir, to drive”, both of which were interesting tales.

Then, Colonel Casey had finally dropped by to visit – after Scott bashfully explained how the island’s location got revealed to her, but Jeff assured him he didn’t care about all that. In all honesty, the woman was a family friend, and he should’ve told her long ago, and most importantly, he was just glad to hear his family came off safe from their encounter with The Hood finding the island.

He and Casey had spoken for a while up in the roundhouse and by the time he headed back in, he was surprised to still hear the chatter of the boys coming from the lounge. Not surprised because that was unusual at all – the five of them had always known how to make noise when together and that didn’t seem to have stopped. It was joyful, a cacophony that he missed in his solitary grey cavern. No, what was surprising about it was that the boys were being so loud so near to dinner time! If there was one thing he’d learnt since being home, it was that the boys were hard to find (unless there was a rescue call) in that dangerous hour their Grandma occupied the kitchen before serving.

So, curious, he carried on up past the kitchen and into the lounge, trying to see if he could earwig what was captivating the boys so, and that was when he heard it.

The sixth voice.

It wasn’t his mother, or Kayo or Brains. They were all voices he was familiar with. Even The Mechanic, who had remained with them for a short stay, had gruff tones that would sound less surprising to hear than the odd, chirp reaching his ears.

As he walked in, it was easy to see his sons gathered round; Alan lounging across the leather chairs with John sat on the sofa beside him whilst Virgil and Gordon sat across from him. Scott was perched on the table and, stood between the eldest and John, taking up the centre of the room, was a complete stranger.

‘Oh, hey dad!’ Gordon called, spotting him first with the vantage of being directly opposite him. Alan promptly dropped his head back as though to confirm that his brother was right, looking at him upside down before blinking in recognition and slinging himself back up with enough speed to give him head rush, Jeff was sure.

‘Hey.’ Alan waved, almost as a way of recovering his near plummet to the floor as he barely managed to catch his grip on the side of the chair.

Gordon and Virgil were sniggering, Scott and John smiling, and the stranger… well, he seemed to fit in amongst his sons… seemed amused at the scene before them also.

For all he seemed an odd fellow, there didn’t see to be anything immediately harmful about the man and from the conversation he’d heard on the way in, it seemed like the boys had met him before. But how did he get here?

‘Uh, dad?’ Virgil’s question floated over to him, and Jeff jolted himself back into the present in time to see his middle child levering himself from the sofa, ‘You ok?’

‘I’m fine, Virgil,’ He held up a hand to halt his boy from approaching. He knew they all worried about him since his return, but he genuinely couldn’t be better. But if Virgil got started now on vitals and temperature there’d be no stopping him. No, he was fine. He was just trying to understand the conundrum of– ‘There’s a man holding a pot plant in my lounge.’

‘Ha, yeah,’ Scott started, filling him with confidence (not), ‘That’s Gladys.’

‘Him?’ He knew it was 2063, and their world had come on leaps and bounds, but–but by the laughter of his sons he’d very much misjudged this one.

‘No, the plant.’ Virgil corrected, motioning to the pot which the man extended further from his chest in response.

‘The– Boys...’ Jeff drawled, lost beyond belief, and wondering a little if he could be dreaming. None of this was making sense.

‘Dad, this is Ned Tedford.’ Finally, he supposed his second son had seen his confusion and John made the formal introduction, rising to stand beside the darker skinned man. ‘He’s our gardener.’

‘Gardener?’

Maybe that made a little bit more sense of the design that seemed to have gone into the outgrow.

‘Yep! That’s me!’ The man – Ned – cheered again, voice loud and bright, before he seemed to stumble, eyes almost visually backtracking over his words. ‘Sir.’

‘You don’t have to call him Sir!’ Gordon chastised, but the gardener was already passing off the pot plant to Scott who fumbled a moment over gripping the ceramic and all the boys seemed to start at the possibility of him dropping it (and it didn’t seem to be over concern for the soil going on the carpet, for goodness sake) whilst Ned – completely unaware of the chaos behind him – held out a hand.

‘Ned Tedford, Sir, at your gardening service.’

‘Right…’

It would be rude not to shake the man’s hand, but he was still trying to process all of this information. Of all the things he’d expected his sons to do in the time he was gone, finding a gardener, hadn’t struck him as one of them.

‘Ned,’ John continued, pulling him back into the room once more, ‘This is our dad, Jeff Tracy.’

Quickly he reached out and shook the man’s hand. He could feel Virgil’s eyes hovering heavily on him with clear question.

‘Jeff Tracy.’ He affirmed, surprised to find that the man had a stronger grip than he’d expected.

‘Mr Tracy. Ned Tedford.’

‘Yes, you said.’

‘Oh, yes, I did, didn’t I.’

But maybe the man wasn’t as confident as he tried to be, given the current bashful display, his eyes suddenly searching round until they landed on his pot plant again, which Scott seemed hasty to return to him and the rest of the boys breathed a sigh of relief at it being returned to the gardener’s hands.

The next thing he knew though, “Gladys” was before his nose.

‘This is Gladys.’

Scott had said… but when the man seemed to feel a little awkward, that seemed a little rude to say. Besides, he couldn’t deny that he still felt a little baffled himself.

‘A geranium?’

‘Yep! The world’s best travelled geranium, Sir!’

Gordon’s palm hit his face, with the mutter of, “you don’t have to call him Sir” again, just about audible.

‘Travelled?’

‘Gladys goes everywhere.’ Alan explained. ‘Like everywhere.’

‘Like, boys?’

‘You know,’ Alan continued, ‘Space.’

‘Underwater.’ Gordon added.

Virgil nodded. ‘The military.’

‘Back to space.’ Scott’s eyes were almost rolling.

‘The North Pole.’ John contributed.

‘And back to space!’ Alan finished.

‘It’s a long story.’ Ned added for himself.

Jeff was just trying to keep up with the brief explanations bouncing between his sons, aware there were many stories he was missing concerning this Ned Tedford.

‘And now earth?’ He assumed given the man’s presence before them.

‘Firmly planted, Sir.’ Ned reassured. Gordon sputtered into laughter that needed Virgil to whack him on the back to steady. ‘It’s all gardening now for us, isn’t that right, Gladys?’

Jeff felt himself blanch. Scott had risen from the table and now passed beside him, close enough for him to mutter, ‘He talks to the plant?’

‘Ah, you get used to it.’ The eldest dismissed, like it was an everyday occurrence.

Scott’s exit didn’t go unnoticed by the youngest who was craning his neck to follow the elder’s steps, his eyes narrowing as the brunette turned towards the stairs before widening as he suddenly vaulted over the back of the chair and zoomed past him.

‘Scott, keep your hands off!’

‘I’m getting the plates, Alan. Just the plates.’

‘If I catch you with a fork in your hand…’

Jeff blinked again.

He knew his boys liked food – in all honesty, they’d probably inherited that from him – but this was his mother’s cooking they were talking about. And he’d been back for a good few weeks: if she’d learnt to cook, he thought he would’ve tasted the difference by now. Which begged the question why an argument seemed to be brewing over what, no doubt, was more “meatloaf surprise”.

‘Alright, have I missed something?’ He asked finally, knowing he had no chance of working this out alone.

‘Uh, yeah!’ Gordon cheered. ‘Ned, can cook.’

Well, that was another revelation he hadn’t been expecting, but it seemed to be something else his boys were accustomed to with the same ease as they were Ned being their gardener.

The man nodded, the pot plant swaying with the motion, still held tightly in his grasp. ‘I brought lasagna. It’s in the oven at the moment.’

‘Lasagna…’ Jeff muttered, feeling more like gravity had done a number on him in these last five minutes than in the five hours immediately after his first foot was back on solid earth.

‘Family favourite.’ Ned pointed out. ‘So I’m told.’

‘Right!’ Gordon cheered, ‘You can’t go wrong with lasagna.’

‘Unless it’s Grandma’s.’ Virgil added and Gordon’s nose scrunched up as the pair of them rose and followed Ned – and Gladys - towards the kitchen.

‘Should be ready about now.’ The gardener agreed as they headed for the stairs. ‘Oh, how’s Gloria and the family doing? Gladys has been wondering.’

‘Oh, they’re doing great!’ Gordon replied immediately, seeming to be well aware who this apparent “Gloria and family” were meant to be, ‘I’ve been following what you said about watering in tropical climates…’

Because that didn’t leave him with more questions than answers at all…

‘Come on dad,’ John encouraged, setting a hand on his shoulder, bringing him back to the world of the lounge. ‘Scott and Alan shouldn’t be left in the kitchen alone.’

No, that much he did remember.

------

It was, several hours later, when Jeff was laying in bed that he remembered the pink geraniums in the garden.

But no, surely… maybe he had to consider that the boys had named them.

Yes, Gloria and family indeed.

Although, it was also as he lay there, contemplating sleep, that he had to agree with the boys. Ned could cook.

And it seemed his mother – “do call me Sally, Ned” – didn’t seem to mind being outdone for once.

------

Ned, and Gladys, were still on the island the following morning and serving breakfast he discovered!

And breakfast seemed to be a civilised affair for once with china teacups, and plates of assorted cakes. Well – civilised besides from Scott swatting at the hands of the youngest two every time they tried to reach for a cake, insisting they needed to finish their breakfast first.

Ned seemed to be most in synch with John, but he had his own way of interacting with each of the boys and Jeff was surprised to see someone from outside the family fitting in so well. The air of secrecy to their lives and of living so far out from civilisation were both his doing, and though his sons had never seemed to mind, he’d still had reservations over their schooling and whether they’d have the chance to make any solid friends in life like he had found in Lee and Casey. But it seemed after all this, those reservations had been needlessly placed, for every son was a graduate and seemed to have found their own friends.

(Even if that was a grown man and a pot plant).

Each son was also highly skilled at what they did in the rescue business, yet that one went without saying or concern after all they did for him, to bring him back.

They’d never given up.

And he couldn’t be prouder of them for that.

Now, it felt foreign to eat food without worry or horror for the second time in a row, and to wonder instead at the taste of it.

He learnt that Colonel Casey had brought Ned to the island with her, the boys quoting that it was best for keeping the island secret. He could agree there, but he wasn’t born yesterday and sensed there was something unsaid. It was – when they were finally on the cakes (to Alan and Gordon’s delight) that he got the rest of that story.

Ned was something of a “magnet for trouble”, Gordon had explained, to which Alan had merrily chipped in, “more so than me”!

After initially being hired by John it seemed and working on the garden for a while to turn it from a “jungle-lawn” into what it was today, Ned had made fortnightly, then monthly trips to the island to manage the upkeep of the garden. Scott had explained that if Colonel Casey wasn’t stopping by, he tended to pick Ned up.

‘Can’t the man get a plane?’ He’d asked, and that seemed to be his foolish mistake, but even Ned was laughing.

Scott was outraged, ‘Dad, you’ve got to be joking! International rescue would only be called out to it.’

‘Ned here has a loyalty badge.’ Gordon quipped, and it was then Jeff realised there was clearly a lot more to his son’s acquaintance with this man than he knew, what with so many stories on hold to be told in full.

‘We are sorry about that, aren’t we Gladys?’

Jeff wondered if the man was actually thinking the plant would reply when he left these pauses.

‘We know, Ned.’ John reassured.

‘Besides, it is our job.’ Virgil added.

‘And we haven’t rescued you since you went back to gardening!’

‘Don’t jinx it, Alan!’

‘I’m just saying Gordon–’

‘Well don’t!’ The four elders chorused and even Ned seemed to blanch at the thought.

‘Okay, okay!’ Alan insisted, ‘I’m just saying–’

‘More cake?’ Ned offered quickly, holding a plate of Battenburg round to Alan who took one immediately, previous thought track forgotten.

‘It’s nice of you to bring all this every time you visit, Ned.’ Virgil praised. Jeff wondered just how many visits there had been for this to seem as easy as daily routine to the boys.

‘Yeah,’ Scott agreed quickly. ‘It’s gets us away from the mercy of Grandma’s cooking.’

‘I heard that young man.’ It was Scott’s poor luck it seemed that the very woman was on her way past as he spoke. Jeff saw the way the eldest’s eyes rolled as the youngest pair sniggered.

‘Why is it always me!’

‘Why do you put yourself in that position, Scott?’ John questioned instead, and he wasn’t wrong. For though the eldest could keep himself out of trouble, Jeff remembered Scott had always had a tendency to accidentally fall into the mix. Just like now.

Ned chuckled. ‘Well, after all you’ve done for us, it’s the least we can do for you. Isn’t that right, Gladys?’

The plant didn’t answer. The plant wouldn’t answer! It was infuriating and Jeff was trying to mind his manners not to roll his eyes every time. It was true testament that his boys were used to this as not one of them seemed to blink at the plant being drawn into the folds of conversation. Maybe more concerning should have been that his son’s didn’t tend to speak in these immediate pauses either…

‘I’m just glad you’re not hiding it all away on Thunderbird Five.’ Gordon stated, taking two slices of cake from the proffered plate.

‘That was one time.’ John answered firmly as Ned set the plate down and rose with the kettle to refill their cups. Jeff noted that the man seemed to know exactly how his sons liked their relevant teas and coffees, moving round them and serving faultlessly.

‘Um, I count Two.’

‘They’re never letting you live it down, bro.’ Scott murmured.

‘Its’s a good thing Thunderbird Three was refuelled!’

‘It was a good thing you didn’t crash it in your rush, Alan.’ Virgil stated, bringing the volume of the younger right down as Scott’s eyes flicked over also.

‘You guys wanted cake too.’ Alan mumbled in a moan, arms folding over his chest in a – compared to what Jeff remembered of him – contained strop.

‘How is Gladys’ good friend?’ Ned asked finally and Jeff blinked, frowning. What friend could a pot plant possibly have?

‘EOS is good, thank you.’

John’s AI. Of course. That only made sense, the father supposed.

‘Gladys can’t wait to come back up. Try out our space legs again!’

Jeff wondered if he should be worried about the man going up to Thunderbird Five – given all the stories he’d half-heard about the boys rescuing him, but John didn’t seem bothered by the man inviting himself back (which wasn’t like the red head not to bat an eye at) – because without needing to be told, he could hear it wouldn’t be the first time.

‘EOS will be glad to have you. She’s got a timer set to remind me about the plants.’

‘I still can’t believe you’re managing to grow space flora.’ Scott muttered, his tone saying everything he thought about it.

‘You’re just annoyed they’ve proved you wrong.’

‘Of course I am, Virge! It’s space and flowers. When have those two ever gone together?’

‘Well–’

‘I don’t need the science again, John.’ Scott ceased the younger promptly. ‘It gave me a bad enough headache last time.’

Jeff saw the way John smirked and sneakily accepted the homemade ginger biscuits from Ned as the gardener set the kettle back and snuck behind the second child on the way to his own seat at the table where Gladys still rested on her pedestal. Hmm, yes, whether it was because John was responsible for getting Ned the job (as he’d learnt) or whatever connection the plant and the AI shared, it seemed certain that of all his sons, Ned and John had the strongest of friendship. Jeff was honestly just pleased to see John have a friend outside of the family.

‘It will be one of my great achievements.’ Ned cheered. ‘Me – first gardener in space!’

‘Don’t forget first gardener for International Rescue!’ Gordon chirped in, sounding equally as excited about it, and Alan was nodding around his mouthfuls of cake.

‘International Gardening Services!’

Jeff blinked, confused, but relieved that Ned didn’t seem to be trading under that name. His confusion was clearly noticed as the youngest pair chuckled, and Scott waved it off as another “tell you later”, along with the myriad of rescues they’d clearly undertaken for the man in the years he’d been gone. Gordon – of all the boys! – was adamant it was rude to retell the rescues whilst Ned was with them. Virgil had later suggested to him that what Gordon actually meant was that it would be rude to retell them as they’d come to remember them. Jeff could only imagine what chaos they meant had been ensuing whilst he lived in another galaxy.

‘I am most thankful to you boys for the job.’

‘We’re thankful you took it.’ Virgil replied, and Gordon was all sniggers again.

‘Yeah, before any more plant murders happened.’

‘There could still be one Gordon.’ Scott seethed, but Ned carried on like the argument wasn’t occurring – as was most uncivilised – across the table between his two boys.

‘Oh, it’s been an absolute honour–’

If he spoke to the plant–

‘– Isn’t that right, Gladys?’

–that was it!

------

Jeff was surprised – though relieved - they’d managed to go without receiving a rescue call for the duration of Ned’s stay so far. It wasn’t so much the man knowing their secrets that concerned him at this stage. It was rather the fact that it was nice to see his boys being boys. Well – men for the elder half, but still. These were sights he’d missed for too long, and he’d happily be greedy for once in his life and soak them in as easily as Gordon did the sun when sat by the poolside.

After Scott and Gordon’s argument had been peace kept by John, the eldest had snuck off, insisting he needed to check all the maintenance was done on Thunderbird One, just in case of a call and Gordon had insisted it was time he went for a swim anyway.

“With the amount of cake you’ve eaten, yeah,” Alan had cajoled and Gordon had thrown a tea towel at the younger as he went by, causing the blonde to race after him. John and Ned had headed up to the lounge. John was itching to check in with EOS and make sure everything was okay, and Ned had decided to tag along because “Gladys would love a chance to say hello, wouldn’t you, Gladys?”. And just like that, he and Virgil were left in the quiet of the kitchen, and “with all the dishes too!” as Virgil had pointed out, his very tone sounding wronged.

 A few hours passed before they were all back together. Ned had been waylaid a little while by his mother insisting upon catching up with him also. Jeff soon realised their heading was the kitchen and that gave him some hope that dinner tonight could be edible also, especially when Ned came back with the idea that they would be eating fish pie – which his sons reassured him Grandma didn’t tend to cook.

By then tensions between Scott and Gordon seemed to have defused somewhat and Jeff was ready to be able to tour the gardens with them in peace.

The boys were pleased to show it off to him now, pointing out the places that had been remodelled and anything they’d done to assist. Virgil had drawn up a lot of the plans it seemed with John in charge of the calculations. Scott, Gordon and Alan had ended up on the supply runs, and Ned had done all the real work in telling them what to buy and what would or wouldn’t be plausible.

‘There were many options once I cleared away the jungle, Mr Tracy.’ Ned finally finished the explanation.

‘Was it that bad?’ He asked.

John shrugged. ‘We never took a photo.’

‘I knew we should have!’ Alan moaned.

‘There was nothing photo-worthy.’ Was Virgil’s returning argument.

‘It would have been interesting to look back on.’ Scott mused.

‘What? The results of your murder scene?’

‘Gordon I am serious about the Geraniums!’

‘You leave Gloria, Gillian, Giles, Gerry and Ted alone!’

Yes, Gordon was indeed pointing to the rockery family of pink geraniums, where the potted Gladys was also currently residing. Somehow, it didn’t surprise Jeff that Gordon was the one with the attachment.

‘Scott.’ John cautioned.

‘What? I didn’t start it!’

‘But you don’t have to antagonise him.’

‘Dad, you have to see what we did with the stairway!’ Virgil interrupted, latching onto him and dragging him forward.

‘Mine is the best!’

‘Shh Alan! Don’t ruin the surprise for him.’

‘It is very good, Mr Tracy.’ Ned insisted. The man had finally stopped trying to call him sir, but the formality of the address still hadn’t changed.

‘Oh boy, here we go.’ He heard Scott mutter from behind them as John and Gordon followed along. He noticed that unlike talking about the pond and the geraniums (as the youngest pair had happily done), that this interest seemed to be primarily Virgil’s and it made him wonder what they could be going to look at besides a set of stone stairs. Not that he wanted to say that when the excitement was so palpably felt by his sons and the gardener.

The boys led him to the end of the stone pathway within the garden lawn and towards the stairs on the far side and through the trees that obscured the staircase. And ready as he had been to see this “grand feature”, he’d truly not expected it to be… well, topiary.

And not the topiary you would expect to find in the average garden, he was sure.

It left him more than a little speechless.

Following the stairs up, rows of trees has been planted on each side and, in matching sets, topiaries of the Thunderbirds cut: Thunderbird One all the way up to Thunderbird Five up towards the top of the stairs.

Jeff blinked again but the sight didn’t change.

No, he was actually looking at what he thought he was.

Goodness help him.

‘What do you think, father?’ Virgil asked, face full of glee. ‘I made the Thunderbird Two’s.’

‘They’re very good son.’

‘We each made our own Thunderbirds!’

‘They’re all good, Gordon.’

‘But what if you had to pick a favourite, dad?’

‘Oh, I couldn’t possibly, Alan.’

‘Ned helped. He taught us how to make the shapes.’

‘Virge, you had a head start.’ Gordon grumbled.

‘I learnt nothing from that gardener like I learnt from Ned!’

‘Doesn’t change the fact you made a Thunderbird Two topiary before.’

‘It was smaller than this!’

‘It was still topiary.’

‘Yeah, and I still haven’t forgiven you for–’

‘Is this another long story?’ Jeff muttered to John beside him, for he was the only one (besides Ned) still close enough and of who would avoid the non-sensical answer: for Ned seemed to be torn between laughing and shaking his head, his arms folded as he looked on; Alan was lost to fits of giggles; and Scott had tried to intervene before it became a “scrap” only for Virgil to accuse “you’re just as much to blame!”. To which Scott had retorted, “What did I do? Gordon was driving”. Which had been promptly and unhelpfully followed with “you two always were Parker’s worst students”. And Jeff didn’t think much of anything had been avoided.

‘Yeah dad, it’s a long story about the topiary.’ John answered, ‘Although, the way this is looking, I may have time to tell you.’

‘I’ll save your brothers then shall I, and you can tell me later over cocoa?’

‘I’ll hold you to that, dad.’

Jeff nodded, looking forward to another late evening with the second child. It would remind him of when they used to stargaze together. But first, he was going to be reminded of the days his son’s squabbles were still for dad to resolve.

‘Alright boys, settle down. I don’t need any more “long stories” to add to the list.’

#thunderbirds are go #fanfiction.net #a03 fanfic #darkestwolfx #Topiary #ned tedford #scott tracy #john tracy #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #alan tracy #jeff tracy #grandma tracy #brains #parker #lady pebelope #kayo #colonel casey #tumblr writers #support your fanfiction authors #fanfiction on tumblr #international rescue #ir #tracy island #tracy family #international gardening services #gladys #geraniums #thunderbird one #thunderbird two

[flyboytracy]

Thunderbird Two is going into SPACE

#Thunderbirds Are Go #Virgil Tracy #Long Haul #THUNDERBIRD TWO IS GOING INTO SPACE #SPACE TURTLE #😘

[idontknowreallywhy]

A little WIP snippet I was toying with…

Two’s launch booster fired on a perfect E pitch, dropping almost immediately to the C sharp.

When cruising, her background hum nudged back up to a solid happy E. When pushed towards the top end of her tolerance she trembled on the edge of an F but never quite settled on the true note - it always jarred and set his teeth on edge. He was happier when she was comfortable and so were his ears. Slow and steady wins the race anyway.

Sometimes, if he was flying alone, he would hum along with her, harmonising with the B below to make a satisfying chord. On particularly good days he might whistle a melody line over her reliable drone. On the bad ones where he couldn’t push a sound from his constricted throat lest it become a sob she would wrap her mournful unaccompanied song around him and that would be enough to get them home.

She was emitting that shaky not-quite-F right now but for once he wasn’t listening to his ship. There was no music at all - his mind instead bombarded with the sound of his own blood thundering through his veins and the discordant screech of terror that was rising inside every cell of his being.

He was going the wrong way.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #virgil tracy #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbird two #music!virgil #why yes I did sit by the piano and figure out the pitch of Two… do normal people not do this? #wip wednesday #the symphony of two #idontknowreallywhy fanfic

[tinytracys]

Further Adventures of Scott the Artist: Easter Egg Decoration

Virg! Virg! I made a big green egg, just like yours!

For the 50th time, Scott, Thunderbird Two looks nothing like an egg! It’s not even remotely egg…

*remembers he should be encouraging of Scott’s rare attempts to take time out to do frivolous and creative things*

But your egg looks lovely! Well done.

Just like Two, right?

Right?

*grits teeth*

Yes. Just like Two.

*beams*

Yes! I nailed it! This art business is easy!

*goes to lie facedown on his studio floor*

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #tiny tracys #thunderbirds action figures #scott tracy #virgil tracy #Scott is an artist #thunderbird two is a big green egg

[pareidoliaonthemove]

Tête-à-Tête

Part Two

Part One is: here

Her uncle was true to his word. Which both did and did not surprise Kayo.

After all, the man had sworn vengeance on Jeff Tracy and International Rescue, and he pursued that vengeance with a single-minded determination. On the other hand, he broke all sorts of promises – both explicit and implied – in the course of that pursuit.

In any case, Kayo was once again bound, gagged, and blindfolded, before being bundled off out of her uncle’s hideout. Unfortunately, the goons were efficient, and Kayo had no inkling of where she had been taken.

After a final parting gift of a dose of a short-term knockout drug, she was deposited – unrestrained – neatly beside Thunderbird Shadow. Once she came around the goons were long gone and the winds had eroded all trace of their passage.

Kayo was shaky on her feet, so she did a quick assessment of her condition, and reluctantly put in a call for help.

It was now a race between the GDF and International Rescue to see who would get to her first.

Twenty minutes later and the GDF had won the race; her brothers being held up by the collapsed skyscraper that had held their attention for the past … it was now sixteen hours.

The GDF medics had cleared her of any permanent damage, only the lingering effects of the drugs her uncle and his minions had pumped into her. Once her body cleared those out, she would be fine.

Colonel Casey was in the process of debriefing her on her details of her ‘encounter’ when the roar of multiple Thunderbirds shook the GDF flyer. Five minutes after that all four earth-bound Tracys had boarded the flyer; and John’s hologram popped up from her wrist comm, even as Scott muscled his way into the room, his brothers following.

Colonel Casey’s decision to debrief Kayo in the on-board conference room of her Command Flyer was typically foresighted of the women.

Once the Tracys had reassured themselves that Kayo was, indeed, as physically okay as the GDF had reported, they retreated to the far side of the conference table – John transferring to Virgil’s wrist comm –, and listened intently as the debrief continued.

Kayo was going over the physical description of the interior of the Hood’s lair for the third time (Virgil had shunted John to Scott, and was using a 3D rendering art programme he could somehow access through his wrist comm to build a model based on her description), when the door opened, and an nondescript-looking NCO marched smartly to Colonel Casey’s side.

The man saluted, and passed over a holodisplay, and Kayo could only just make out the words ‘pathology report’, ‘substance analysis’ and ‘urgent’.

Casey dismissed the man, and speed-read her way through the files.

The storm of emotions on the older woman’s face had Kayo’s hackles rising, and the Tracys edging towards her.

Scott was the first to break, moving to stand and read over the Colonel’s shoulder.

Casey looked back at Kayo, “What did The Hood tell you about the drug he administered?”

Kayo frowned, remembering. “He said it had cost him a lot of time and money to source; that it was new, and guaranteed to work, with no side effects. Oh, and he has already used it! He implied that he had used it on politicians and businessmen to extract personal information he was blackmailing them on.”

Casey paused, considering. “Did he tell you this before or after he administered the drug?”

“After.”

“And what questions did he ask? If you can remember the exact words he used, it could be important.”

Kayo stared at her a moment, perplexed, before Scott nodded to prompt her. She shut her eyes, and replayed events in her mind. It was surprisingly easy to recall details.

She spoke slowly, reluctantly. “He asked, ‘And so, Kayo, my beloved niece, how are you these days?’, then ‘I told you, my dear, I just want to catch up with you. So, how are you?’.” She paused. “Next was ‘The Tracys are keeping you busy? Not too busy, I hope. It wouldn’t do for you to be overworked.’ And then, ‘And how is your dear father? It has been a very long time since I have had news of my beloved half-brother.’”

Kayo paused, considering, but a small voice insisted that the next questions were rhetorical, and therefore not questions. “The last thing he asked was, ‘Do you still love me?’” she concluded, quietly.

Colonel Casey’s face softened. “I’m sorry, Kayo, but I had to ask. Your bloodwork came back, and we identified the ‘truth serum’ he used on you. It is a new formula, and one that is very tightly controlled, as it is extremely effective. But the Hood lied, while there usual side effects of disorientation are not present, it has a very nasty side effect in that it makes the subject … suggestible. Anyone given this drug is very vulnerable to instructions or alternative information provided whilst they are under the influence; and the influence is very difficult to shake, even after the drug has worn off.”

Casey sighed, “It appears that the Hood is making an attempt to recruit you by trying to reinforce his relationship with you.” Her gaze softened, “Please, Kayo, be mindful of this, and be careful whenever you next encounter him.”

Kayo nodded. “I will, Colonel. My father has warned me about my uncle ever since I was a little girl. To side with him would be to betray my father.”

“And I am both glad and sorry to hear that, Kayo.” Casey looked at the holofile in her hand, again. “Was it only ‘family matters’ that you discussed?”

Kayo opened her mouth to speak, hesitated a second as the little voice whispered insistently in her head again.

“Yes, Colonel Casey. That was all we talked about.”

Notes:

This was never originally meant to be a two parter, but the Hood went off on a tangent, and he really isn’t the type of person who would act out of sentimentality. On screen, he always has a plan, though in the beginning IR can outwit him, later on, he becomes sneakier, with back-up plans and redundancies in place.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #fanfiction #my fanfic #kayo #the hood #colonel casey #multichapter #part two #tete-a-tete