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katblu42 · 40 minutes
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Thanks for coming back to answer this one. Your answers have certainly given me a wide grin!
Hello :)
For the writer's ask game
🧑 favorite character to write?
For 50 Character Asks
4. Favorite line for Scott and/or Virgil
Fruit emoji ask game
🍊 Who’s a character you don’t write for that often, but keep meaning to write for more? (They’re so interesting! But maybe you have trouble pinning them down, or keep getting distracted by another blorbo
)
(I hope it's okay to combine the different ask games into one ask!)
It's totally fine to do this! ^^ Also, Heyo! Hope you're doing well
🧑 favorite character to write?
Whoever the stoic is, usually. Esp if it's a deadpan / dry wit snarker With Anderverse that usually means Penny, Scott, John, Captain Blue... actually there's a lot of stoics XD
I will sometimes latch onto characters different from the stoic... Like Brooklyn is my favorite gargoyle, newBlue is my favorite in nCS, I ADORE Phones, etc
4. Favorite line for Scott and/or Virgil
Hmmmm tough one... Gonna have to actually come back on this one, as I actually have a lot of favs from them in canon and need to think over what my fav for each is ^^;;
🍊 Who’s a character you don’t write for that often, but keep meaning to write for more?
Hmmm... Probably Phones and Conrad. I don't get to do as much as I'd like with them, honestly
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katblu42 · 17 hours
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hello :3 anyone doing camp nano and wants to be buddies? i'm looking for someone to maybe write together with and to motivate each other perhaps! so each their individual project but bonding over the writing together! maybe doing sprints together and stuff like that?
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katblu42 · 17 hours
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I cannot shake the image of Scott in a situation like the end of the 1969 movie The Italian Job.
Spoilers - if you haven't seen this movie I suggest you do, but this clip is literally the very end of the movie.
youtube
*during a rescue*
Scott: Hey guys, I realise that this is out of character.
Scott: But I have an idea!
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katblu42 · 17 hours
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Please share for a wider distribution. 🙂
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katblu42 · 17 hours
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Round 3 is over? get ready for the Quarter final!
39 and a bit episode later we are down to just eight.
Round Three results:
Trapped in the Depths Vs Secret of the Giant Oyster
Loch Ness Monster Vs Hostages of the Deep
Stingray (piolt episode) Vs Titan goes Pop
The Light House Dwellers Vs Ghost of the Sea
Tune of Danger vs Standby for Action
Set Sail for Adventure Vs Sea of Oil
Emergency Marnievile Vs Treasure Down Below
Marniville Traitor Vs the Invisible Enemy
I know we lost a few of peoples favorites, and duke dexter, this round. that is just how these tournaments go i'm afraid. but they did sea- sorry see off a LOT of competition and it was very close on some polls with only one persons vote in it in two cases. with excetion to light housedwellers soz. Ghost of the Sea swept up there.
Quarter Final line up:
Polls will be up tomorrow (28th). and a reminder for semi and the finals, after this round there will be no abstain vote. get your feels and propaganda ready, there's only four polls this time.
Trapped in the Depths Vs Hostages of the Deep
Stingray (pilot episode) Vs Ghost of the Sea
Standby for Action Vs Set Sail for Adventure
Treasure Down Below Vs Marniville Traitor
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katblu42 · 18 hours
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Just about all of these openings have me wanting to know more. Some of these are very intriguing indeed!
Hi, it's me!
Okay, so there’s probably a lot you don’t know about me. So just in case you’re in the least bit interested:
I try very, very hard never to read incomplete fics. Purely selfish, and the result of reading far too many heart-grabbing stories that never got finished. If you need kudos or encouragement or anything else to continue, I’m here and over the moon excited to read anything you’d like to throw at me. Just let me know what you want in return - comments, critique, suggestions, hugs, encouragement, emojis, whatever ...
I posted one fic a chapter at a time, and I doubt I’ll ever do it again.
Characterization is everything.
If you’ve noticed an absence of Brains, Grandma, Lady P, Havoc, etc
 in my fics it’s because I don’t give a twit. Perhaps one day I will evolve beyond this simplistic state.
I suck at prompts, challenges and deadlines. My muse is never in the right headspace at the right time.
I have a ridiculous need to keep it believable when really, the stuff that goes on in the show – no matter how much I adore it – is often somewhat miraculous.
It’s the future, people, I’m allowed to invent things.
In real life, I write kids’ books.
To the best of my knowledge, I’m the oldest member of the Thunderfam. Challenge me if you think you can claim the title.
The first thing of importance I ever wrote was a full length Star Trek Next Gen novel which I submitted to a few select New York publishers (oh, the innocence of youth) . Surprise, surprise, many of them actually read it and sent back comments written on famous restaurant napkins.
So, in light of all of the above, I’m once again doing my own thing. Inspired by the recent “10 opening lines from 10 recent fics” post I’m changing it up to “10 opening lines from 10 WIPs”.  I mean, seriously, I’m a newbie here and have far more WIPs than I do finished fics. So here’s what’s – pray to the anti-depression, anti-chronic pain gods  – coming up 

A WHOLE LOT OF SUPERFICIAL The uniform discarded in a heap on the floor outside the showers was expected – the purple neoprene wasn’t. (Virgil, Scott, shaping up to be humour)
THE LAST ZOO ON EARTH “Say again, John. I thought you said we have a situation at a zoo.” (All brothers, major rescue, major whump, pissed off Gordon)
THERE ARE NO CANNIBALS ANYMORE “Sir! I need you to calm down!” (Hurt Virgil, this one could go graphic in a hurry)
IT DOESN’T HURT Virgil glanced up from the piano keys, searching for inspiration but instead witnessing his fish brother's spectacular dive off the board – a dive that would leave his re-built back in shambles. (Fishtank, chronic pain)
TIGHT ROPE “I’m sorry, John, but if she’s dumb enough to try and pull off this ridiculous stunt, I see no reason why we should save her from her own stupidity.” (rescue gone sideways)
STARSTUCK Alan Tracy had been looking forward to this moment for a very long time. (Hurt Virgil, guilty Alan, Thunderbird 3 whump)
STELLAR “Hey, John, what’s this?” “It’s personal, that’s what it is!” (Guilty John, comatose Gordon, poetry, John has a secret)
CASPIAN John Tracy blinked open his eyes, breath catching when he discovered the most beautiful thing in his universe mere centimetres from his face. (John, OC-John’s lover, angst, Marks and Wings, John is not only a telepathic Ave but he’s bi!)
PSYCHOTIC MEDIUMS The probe entered Earth’s solar system broadcasting a symphony of alien sound that instantaneously drove the half-a-million or so humans who were listening insane. (Virgil centric, angst, sci-fi)
THE JOHN-CODE “Hey, Eos, you wanna help me test this new game?” (Alan, John, Eos, virtual games gone wrong.)
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katblu42 · 1 day
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🍛🍛🍛🍛🍛🍛🍛🍛🍛🍛🍛🍛🍛🍛🍛🍛🍛
Soup 2
You don't need to have read Soup for this to make sense but it kinda sets up the story of the soup (yes that sounds weird as I type it!) Just a headcannon I have.
This is a hopefully fluffy one shot of our Virgil feeling yuck for @idontknowreallywhy who was also feeling yuck.
It references Penguins which is a sick Scott story -again you don't need to have read it for this to make sense- or as much sense as it's gonna!
🍛🍛🍛🍛🍛🍛🍛🍛🍛🍛🍛🍛🍛🍛🍛🍛
There was a loud sneeze, a violent bout of swearing followed by the sound of ripping paper.
Scott sighed quietly to himself. He quickly finished sending the email he'd been typing, dispatching it with a flick then closed his tablet. He rose from the desk, stretching his back as he did so, proof that he was due a break anyway.
He strode with purpose towards the sweary lump of blankets on the couch.
The brightly coloured wool monster had only two hands and a pair of eyes visible. Scott kept his movements slow and cautious as if it was a skittish horse or frightened rescuee and not his closest friend and brother concealed within.
“Hey, Vee.”
“Go away!”
Scott held his hand out placatingly as glassy brown eyes flicked angrily to him. He sat on the coffee table in front of his brother his knee touching what he thought must be his brother’s knee though it was hard to be completely sure through the many layers.
“What you doin there?”
The dark eyes locked with his mournfully the, ‘what do you think I'm doing? Moron,’ clear in their depths. Scott however was immune to sick brother ire. The blanket creature was clutching a sketch pad in one hand and a pencil in the other.
“It’s not working!” the voice, deeper and more gravely than usual rumbled from the depths. Scott studiously kept the grin from his face at how pathetically petulant his brother sounded, more like a grumpy child than Thunderbird Two, second in command of International Rescue.
As if reading his thoughts, which with Virgil was not beyond possibility, the voice growled with increased hostility, “Get lost. I want to be alone!”
Scott did not point out that he clearly did not want to be alone otherwise he'd be in any one of the hidey holes the island provided for solitude and not here in the comm room directly in front of the desk Scott had been working at all morning. At that moment another viscous sneeze sounded, the pencil slipped across the paper uncontrolled, marring the beginnings of a sketch of the island. A frustrated growl and the paper was gone, joining several of its relations in the mess of used tissues, discarded crochet hooks and, Scott peered closer, a very crumpled manuscript with about four musical notes scribbled out upon it.
The pencil started making angry stabs at a fresh page of the sketchpad the determined annoyance breaking the lead of the pencil. The growl intensified.
“Ok,Picasso. I think that's maybe enough.” Scott swipped the pencil and pad from his brother’s grip before the thing combusted at his creative brother’s anger. Said anger refocused on Scott.
“Gimme!”
“Articulate.”
Another sneeze was followed by a coughing fit that had Scott wincing in sympathy, reaching for the water jug behind him on the table and handing Virgil a glass of cool liquid. He earned a grudging grunt of thanks.
Scott moved to lower himself onto the couch at his brother's side, avoiding a pointy knitting needle just in time.
Virgil slumped towards him and Scott draped his arm around the invalid as best he could given the many layers. He pulled the top blanket off revealing tousled brown hair and a pale blotchy face that looked at him in despair.
“Should be doing something. Hate lying round.”
Scott signed in sympathy. “I get it, Vee. I really do. However, maybe for today you just need to rest so you can have the energy to be creative when you feel a bit better tomorrow.”
“Hypoctite.”
“Yep!” the grin did make its way into Scott's voice this time.
“Last time you had the flu you chaired one of the most important meetings of your career and held an international press conference, remember?”
“No, not really actually.”
That at least made Virgil snort with something approaching amusement. “The penguin army..” He giggled slightly.
“Leave my hallucinations out of this. The penguins were cute and I do remember the lecture about rest and taking proper care so, you know, if the Hypoctite title is up for grabs...” Scott waved his hand vaguely letting that sentence finish itself.
Beside him Virgil deflated slightly in defeat, “Feels like a stupid waste of time...”
Scott tightened his arm, squeezing his brother to him, “I know and I'm sorry you feel yuck.”
They sat in companionable silence at that broken only by the occasional sniff from Virgil. Scott thought maybe his brother had at last fallen asleep when he spoke, “Hate feeling useless.”
“You aren't useless... you're just unwell.”
A sad sniff showed Virgil was unconvinced.
“Do you want to go back to bed or stay here?”
“Here...”
“Ok, well John raided the archive and found some vintage ‘American Chopper’ want to watch lunatics custom build motorbikes?”
Virgil actually broke into a smile at that. “He did? How’d he get that?”
“Probably best don't ask,” Scott grinned flicking on the projector.
As if summoned by the mention of his name, John appeared to float beside them. He and Scott exchanged a look.
“I'm going to go make us some lunch, you rest here?”
Virgil grunted, eyes not leaving the projector where already the main characters were in angry dispute about something or other. Scott lowered his brother’s head from his shoulder to the cushions, taking the opportunity to rearrange the blanket mountain into something more comfortable and reminiscent of human form.
John had Eos ready the elevator.
By the time the familiar and comforting smell of mom’s soup floated up from the kitchen, filling the lounge like a hug, John was half way home and Virgil breathing deeply for the first time all morning and with something approaching content, finally succumbed to a much needed and healing sleep. Scott peered into the room and smiled gently to himself, “Still works, Mom.”
By the time Vigil awoke both older brothers were beside him to enjoy the soup together just as Mom intended it.
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katblu42 · 1 day
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Just for Wednesdays?
Tumblr needs a pink mode
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katblu42 · 1 day
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Virgil communicating with wolves . . . like my fave Wheel of Time character!
(I've only read the books, and that was a while ago, but there are some cool parallels one could draw here!!)
For those of you who voted for Virgil whump, any suggestions of what you’d like to see?
Nutty
(Pondering)
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katblu42 · 1 day
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Sonata c7: New Friends and New Arrivals
Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | AO3
This chapter has been a long time in coming due to mangled muses, but with @the-original-sineater and @mariashades constant help Sonata is finally finished!
A reminder that this is an evil!Jeff fic
~
The next day passed in a very disjointed manner.
Scott was quiet still, seeming to understand that something wasn’t right and was clingier when Lucy dropped him off to school. It was the first time he’d kicked up a real fuss about being left behind, but she stood firm. Besides, with the paperwork still not fully sorted out Lucy wasn’t sure where she would stand if she kept Scott home.
The afternoon passed in much the same manner. Eventually Lucy put a movie on for Scott which she watched with him. Dinner was a quiet affair and with Jeff still absent they both retired to bed early.
Jeff didn’t come home that night either.
The next morning Scott was more himself, going to school without a fuss and Lucy was more not herself. She knew that part of her issues were her hormones – when she’d been this far gone with Scott she’d been the same emotional wreck – and she couldn’t focus on her work at all.
A little after 10 there was a light knocking on the front door. Lucy’s heart leapt up with the thought that it was Jeff, but then she realised he wouldn’t need to knock. Frowning, she opened the door.
‘Lucy? I came as quickly as I could.’ ‘It’s
Val, isn’t it? Come in, please.’
Val followed the woman who she’d only met once but felt deeply for. They had more in common than Lucy knew. Her marriage to Tim Casey was more of a marriage of convenience than love. Single women didn’t get far in the GSF despite the enlightened age they lived in, and the union benefitted both of them. She was very fond of Tim, but she didn’t love him.
Not like she was sure Lucy loved Jeff. It had shone off her at the wedding, and even now Val could still see it. Lucy looked like she hadn’t slept for days. Sighing inwardly at the news she knew she was going to break, Val shooed Lucy into a chair and made camomile tea for them both.
‘Lucy, I know you don’t really know me, but I would really like us to be friends.’ ‘I – I’d like that.’ ‘Before we sit and natter and get to know each other, I have a confession to make, and if you don’t want to be friends afterwards I will understand.’ ‘What is it?’ ‘Jeff – he’s been staying with us.’ ‘Oh.’
She couldn’t think of anything else to say to that news. On the one hand Lucy was relieved to know Jeff was alright. On the other
why hadn’t he come home?
‘What did he say?’ ‘Nothing. Nothing to me, anyway. He came late and spoke to Tim and they disappeared into the den. I didn’t even realise Jeff had stayed the night until he was there for dinner. And when he made no move to leave last night I just knew I needed to make sure you were alright.’
Lucy bit her bottom lip and then burst into tears.
Val immediately dropped her cup and rushed over, folding Lucy into a tight hug, holding her as the woman trembled and let all her pent-up emotions out. It didn’t take too long for Lucy to pull away, wiping her face and feeling slightly embarrassed, but she offered Val a tentative smile of thanks.
‘What time do you have to pick up Scott?’ ‘In another couple of hours.’ ‘Then grab your bag and let’s go.’ ‘Go? Go where?’ ‘Trust me.’
For the first time since she’d found out about the paperwork Lucy found herself grinning. Val was refreshing. It had been a long time since she’d had a good friend, and her heart felt that little bit lighter.
‘Let’s blow this popsicle stand!’
Laughter followed them as they left the house and set off. The morning passed in a whirlwind of shopping and coffee shops, and by the time Lucy was due to pick up Scott the two women were fast friends. They took Scott out for ice cream, and he began to come out of his shell, grinning at seeing his Mom happy again. He already liked ‘Aunty’ Val, and the addition of ice cream only solidified that opinion.
By the time the three of them returned home Jeff was there. He’d cooked dinner and, once Val had – reluctantly – left, he sent Scott off to play so he could apologise properly to Lucy.
They sat on the bench outside looking over the farmland, Jeff’s arm around Lucy’s shoulders and Lucy’s head on his shoulder.
‘I’m so sorry, love. I don’t quite know what came over me.’ ‘No – I’m sorry, Jeff. It’s been hard, and you were off planet and there was an issue with Scott and I wasn’t informed because you hadn’t done the paperwork and then you’re back but we’ve not really had much time to talk and the baby is due any minute now and
.’
Jeff chuckled and cupped Lucy’s cheek, stopping her babbling.
‘Honey – you have no reason to apologise. I’m sorry and I’ll get it all sorted out on Monday. How about I pick Scott up from school and I’ll sort it all out then.’ ‘That would be fantastic, Jeff. Thank you. Scott will love you picking him up.’
He gently cupped her face in both hands and kissed her gently. Gradually the kiss deepened when suddenly Lucy gasped and Jeff paused.
‘Lucy?’ ‘Jeff – the baby’s coming!’ ‘Now?’ ‘Now. Grab my bag, it’s by the door. And call Scott.’ ‘Yes love. Oh!’
Five short hours later Jeff and Lucille Tracy welcomed John Glenn Tracy into their family.
Scott was besotted from the second he set eyes on his baby brother. John was a quiet baby from the very start, and Scott was loathe to leave once Grant and Sally said it was time to go home. There were a few tears until Lucy assured Scott that his Grandparents would bring him back tomorrow.
The weekend was a whirlwind of activity, and Scott had great fun ‘helping’ his grandparents make sure that the house was ready for a baby. Lucy had done her best, but alone it had not been as easy as it had been before. That time she’d not had a five-year-old to ‘help’ with everything. But eventually Sunday evening found the family reunited over a late supper.
They quickly settled into a good routine. Jeff had six months on Earth before his next mission, and he spent as much time as possible at home. He had never thought about having kids, not ever, and as much as Scott was his – well, least said about that the better – John was different.
John entranced him. The babe was strangely self-contained and quiet, for which Jeff was very thankful for, and despite how he felt about Scott there was no denying the obvious connection the two brothers had. John’s eyes followed Scott almost all the time, and when Scott was home his whole life revolved around John.
They had a couple of blips over those six months. Two more arguments – both caused in the early days when Jeff had promised to pick Scott up from school but had forgotten. Scott may not have been upset by his father’s behaviour, but Lucy was becoming more aware of the disparity that Jeff displayed between his two sons.
She’d been blind to think that living with Scott would change Jeff’s opinion of his eldest son. Lucy had hoped he’d begin to treat him like a father should, but every day in small ways she could see that it didn’t seem likely. Jeff wasn’t overtly mean to Scott – that she could have dealt with – but despite it all Scott doted on his father, and Lucy knew that she would need to walk a difficult path if she was to keep both of them happy.
A couple of months after the birth Lucy began to get tired. Everyday tasks were getting hard. Just getting out of bed was hard. Ruth came more often and helped out until Jeff engaged the services of one of the girls in the town to help out.
Hazel was a godsend, and even better Scott loved her from the moment she’d pushed him on the swing to dizzying heights, telling the boy that he could fly if she pushed him hard enough. If Scott chose to jump
Lucy wasn’t getting any better, and by the time John was five months old Jeff – due to return to NASA for his next stint on the moon – was having serious thoughts about cancelling this mission. But with Ruth and Lucy telling him to go, and Hazel moving into the farmhouse as well, Jeff went ahead on his mission.
The day he was due to leave to go into isolation was one of the first warm days of spring, and as Jeff finished packing his car he looked around for Scott. He had a task for the boy that he hoped would keep him out of trouble.
But Scott was nowhere to be seen. Lucy stifled a smile, knowing that it would just wind Jeff up and that was the last thing he needed. She watched from the swing bench on the porch as Jeff muttered about where Scott would go and why wasn’t he here where he should be.
‘Jeff – it’s spring. The sky is clear and the weather warmer than it’s been for a while. Scott’s not with John so you know where he is.’ ‘Yeah. He’s out in the meadow staring at the birds I guess.’ ‘Of course he is. Our son was born to be in the sky.’
Muttering once more to himself, Jeff stalked around the side of the house and let out that piercing whistle that Lucy hated so much. Sure enough not five minutes later Jeff returned with a slightly panting Scott. She shifted John to her other arm and sat up with a wince.
Jeff marched Scott up the steps and stood with one hand on the boy’s shoulder. He smiled at the way Scott grinned up at him. He was positively bouncing on the spot.
‘Scott, while I’m gone I want you to look after your brother. John’s your responsibility. Your responsible for keeping him safe, ok?’ ‘Ok, Daddy.’ ‘Jeff – I hardly think that’s a suitable job for a six-year-old.’ ‘Nonsense, Lucy. It’s the job of the big brother to take care of his brother. You can do it, can’t you, Scott?’ ‘YEAH!’
Lucy sighed. Scott was obviously going to do what Jeff asked, he always did. But she made up her mind to have a chat with her son and make sure Scott didn’t take things too seriously. But then Jeff kissed John’s head, ruffled Scott’s hair, to his delight, and kissed her soundly.
And Jeff was gone.
The conversation Lucy intended to have with Scott never happened as another bout of sickness laid her out for several days. She and Jeff talked weekly, but as the months progressed so did her mystery illness.
Val became a regular visitor when she was off-duty, and the friendship they’d formed over shopping and lattes and ice cream firmed up into deep respect and Scott doted on her and her stories of flying jets.
It was a blisteringly hot mid-August day when Lucy was rushed to the emergency room with suspected appendicitis and left with a baby boy after a thirty-hour labour in which he refused to leave the warmth of his Mom even after being induced.
When Jeff made contact during his weekly slot to see his Mom and John
and Scott
but no Lucy he worried that he should have stayed home after all. But then Ruth smiled and he felt his heart lift.
‘Ma? Where’s Lucy?’ ‘She’s recovering well, Jeff.’ ‘Recovering? Wh-what happened? I mean, I know that she was sick when I left, but
’ ‘Lucy’s fine, Jeff. Just exhausted.’ ‘Good, good, good. Wait a minute – why is she exhausted? Has Scott
’ ‘No, Jeff. It’s nothing to do with Scott. Actually, it’s all your fault.’ ‘MY fault?!?’ ‘Yes, Jeff. Your fault. Yesterday Lucy gave birth – eventually – to a healthy, if reluctant, baby boy.’ ‘A – a baby? She was pregnant, not sick?’ ‘Pregnant, not sick.’ ‘Wow. I – er – ok then.’
Ruth laughed. It wasn’t often that Jeff was lost for words. It was a warm sound and caused Scott to grin and look up to his Grandma. He was hugging her side with one hand on John’s knee. John was sitting on Ruth’s lap, leaning back against her and practically asleep.
‘I – I didn’t think that – uh –‘ ‘Lots of couples don’t and usually breastfeeding is a natural birth control but it’s not 100% effective. As you and Lucy found out. And a cryptic pregnancy is also rare for third pregnancies. The baby was also very reluctant to leave his shelter.’ ‘He? Another boy?’ ‘Yes, Jeff. A healthy, if large, 10lb 4 oz.’ ‘Oookay then. Okay then. Is Lucy out of hospital?’ ‘Not yet. She and the baby are due to be discharged in two days. They’re just making sure both are completely well.’
Jeff blew out air noisily and sat back, running his hands through his hair. Another baby. So soon after John? Huh. Well, it wouldn’t hurt his image as a wholesome family man. He still had another month left before turning home, and he could ride it out
but the thought of returning early to care for his wife and newborn son felt like the right move to make.
‘Ma? I gotta go. Thanks for looking after Lucy.’ ‘Alright, Jeff. I’ll see you next week.’
Jeff waited a beat before he left the room to go find Lee. He had a need to tell someone his good news. Plus, if he was going to ask if he could come home early Lee would need to know.
Lee laughed his head off at first, but as Jeff explained his dilemma he frowned. NASA wouldn’t let Jeff finish the mission early no matter the reason, and the two quietly brainstormed if there was a way to save face and still get NASA to get them home early.
Eight days after the chat with his Ma, Moon Base Alpha developed a potentially life-threatening fault in one of the oxygen scrubbers. Jeff and Lee made repairs as best they could, one jerry-rigged repair that meant they didn’t die immediately, but NASA scrambled a shuttle just to be on the safe side.
When they returned to Earth they were lauded for managing to fix their life-threatening emergency with only the tools to hand, and neither man said anything about the part they had played in causing the malfunction in the first place. And if certain astronauts were suspicious, well they had no proof and nothing was going to make either man say anything. NASA bosses too ignored the timing of the incident, knowing full well that no sane man would ever jeopardise their life like that.
If Jeff had found John entrancing, then Virgil was even more so. The baby was almost twice the size of John and all he seemed to do was sleep. Both babies were quiet, for which he was very thankful, and Jeff settled into a routine at home.
NASA had decreed that two six-month missions with the minimum amount of ‘Planet-time’ had really been too much and had given Jeff a leave of six months followed by a minimum of a year of work in Houston before they would even consider sending him back up, and Jeff used the time to plough into his business.
Belah Gaat had been left pretty much running the business himself, but as Jeff came back into the partnership some previously unknown issues began rearing their heads.
Namely, Gaat was all about the money and the power, and he didn’t seem to mind where it came from.
As Jeff worked hard to uncover and terminate many of the man’s ill-advised deals his anger increased until he offered Gaat an obscene amount of money to get lost. Gaat, unwilling to sacrifice the deals and contacts he’d made, fought hard and dirty, but Jeff was just as capable, and before the six months was up Belah Gaat was out of the business and out of his life for good.
He ignored the thinly veiled threats to himself and his family. Gaat had unwittingly provided a means to keep them safe from anything that Gaat could throw at them. The man Jeff had in mind just needed a little more persuasion to come and work for him, persuasion Jeff already had the leverage for.
There was only one contact Jeff kept hold of. One very lowly soldier in the Bereznikian Armed Forces. There was nothing for Jeff in that country at the moment, but Bereznik was an unknown place, and who knew what cultivating the right person there could do in the long run.
Jeff’s return to work at NASA also coincided with an increase of tensions once more between himself and Lucy, once again brought about by his forgetting to pick Scott up from school several times.
The school had reported him after the fifth time in four weeks, and it was only the intervention of Miles that had saved his bacon that time.
That was about the time Jeff, realising that the tension at home was becoming caustic, came home early one evening to surprise Lucy and try and make things right only to find the farmhouse in darkness.
Her phone placed her at the train station, and Jeff had only just arrived in time to stop her boarding alone.
A long and frank conversation followed. There were tears and shouting and lots of emotions, but Jeff knew he had to do better if he was to keep Lucy and his boys.
That winter all the way into spring and just after Scott’s birthday Jeff was like another man entirely. He spent time with all the boys, even Scott, and took Lucy out frequently, letting Hazel babysit.
It was during this time that Jeff introduced Kyrano and his baby daughter to the family. The man barely spoke to Lucy but was always polite and deferential. And Scott doted on having a baby sister, ignoring all explanations to the contrary that Tanusha wasn’t a sibling. They didn’t stay at the farmhouse but came and went seemingly at random.
And then Virgil turned one and NASA asked Jeff to think about returning to Moon Base Alpha.
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katblu42 · 2 days
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And being the bridge between human and spirit worlds.
No wonder Aang ran away from all that responsibility!
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katblu42 · 2 days
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Any thunderfam playing pokemon go who I can add as a friend? I need to add 3 for a task. Drop me message for my code/send me yours. I send gifts regularly as possible
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katblu42 · 2 days
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Wonderful! Such a beautiful and special piece - real labour of love.
Blanket of the Seventh Dawn - Final FO
After two months, I've finished my FFXIV inspired blanket, and I can't wait to show it to you! For the individual posts: What is this project? Or, for the tl;dr - one colorway per Scion = Big Blanket. #blanket of the seventh dawn. Just be aware the posts may contain spoilers up to FFXIV Endwalker.
I was inspired after making a red cat hat, reminiscent loosely of G'raha Tia, to make a bigger project. Then when I started perusing yarns for my next project, wistfully browsing the yarns from my favorite hand-dyers, I kept seeing colorways that reminded me of other characters. At that point, the idea was hypothetical, but then I started taking notes for what characters I wanted to include, colorway ideas, screenshots to see how they looked together, a few plan layouts for 3 and 4 squares per hank... and it got a whole less hypothetical.
This was in January, so new year, new project, new yarn budget - I took the dive in.
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I wanted to really let the colors tell the story. Especially with crochet, sometimes the simpler stitches are better for letting the color variations shine, so I chose a basic stitch but a new-to-me granny design. The solid granny replaces the typical spacings with DC all the way across and then building in the corners.
It wasn't always pretty. On the very first hank my swift broke after I accidentally hadn't secured it it tight enough, and for awhile I started trying to wind by hand.
My second swift was an immediate purchase after THIS happened with two of the hanks.
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As I finished squares for each hank (I could get three per color), I blocked them, wove in ends, and put them to the side until all colors were complete. Then, when I finished all the squares, I put them all into a bag, mixed them up, then decided the final design by choosing them at random, displaying them in a 6 square by 7 square rectangle. I exchanged about six squares to make sure no like squares were touching and to better alleviate a block of red all in one place. This gave the blanket the layer of chaos you'll see soon.
Because of the weight of the blanket, I made a few decisions for connecting squares that felt, to me, like they would be more secure. For the back side, I chose to sc up the row in place of a mattress stich or any other sewing options or even slip stitch. I used Malabrigo, Arroyo for this part and the border. Although it's also dk, it is a little thinner than the dk in Arcane Fibre Works. When I got to a corner, I chose to connect inside the hole made, and not in the stitches. This resulted in the crossing you see here on both sides of the work. I also slipstitched in both sets of adjacent squares on the first pass through before continuing with the connecting single crochets.
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March 24 (this is getting posted a little late because I was behind on sharing squares), I finished up the 5th row of hdc in blo for the border, wove in the rest of the ends, and FINALLY she was all finished. You can see some final pictures and the full reveal below!
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Thanks for coming along with me on this journey.
This blanket will be treated like the treasure she is.
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katblu42 · 2 days
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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.’
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katblu42 · 2 days
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I guess that makes me the Avatar
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katblu42 · 2 days
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Excellent news!
Believe it or not, I'm home.
So many, many thanks for all your prayers and good thoughts! The surgery went so well! The doctor thought I'd stay overnight, but I bounced back sooner than expected, so tonight I get to sleep in my own bed.
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katblu42 · 4 days
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