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whatgaviiformes · 1 year

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Fic: Sticking to the Landing - A Collab!

A/N: Hi Friends! @godsliltippy and I here for a oneshot fic collab. This was written with us taking the different voices, so everything Gordon is Tippy, and everything Virgil is me (with some Scott at the end). The co-creator tag may still be in progress on Ao3, but the fic is up if you prefer to read that method. 💛💚

For FishTank Week

Genre: General, Fluff

Characters: Virgil, Gordon

Word Count: 2.8K

Summary: Figure it out he says, Gordon whined to himself as he made the trek up the stairs, repeating Scott's instructions as he went. Off rotation, off the island, they just had to go somewhere and relax for at least seventy-two hours. For Gordon and his brothers, that was easier said than done.

Read on AO3 Here

*****

Sticking to the Landing

Figure it out he says, Gordon whined to himself as he made the trek up the stairs, repeating Scott's instructions as he went. Off rotation, off the island, they just had to go somewhere and relax for at least seventy-two hours. For Gordon and his brothers, that was easier said than done.

At the top of the stairs, his destination was a straight shot past their bedrooms and to their own personal workspaces. The thought of stopping in his own sanctuary to unpackage a new box of reclaimed gadgets from the early two-thousands was halted by the time-line big brother had given him.

Passing his sticker-covered door, Gordon found the one he'd been aimed to infiltrate, unable to help a smile as he contemplated knocking. Who would he be if he changed it up now? Not Gordon Tracy, that was for sure.

Hitting the code he shouldn't know, the door to Virgil's studio slid open. With the intent of an annoying little brother, he called out, "Hey, Virgil!"

Virgil startled, his brush hovering a millimeter from a fresh canvas, and it was only well honed reflexes that kept him from flinching and ruining the piece he’d only just started. The sketch foretold a cityscape, sharp lines and angles, without the fluidity of his landscapes, but as certain fish had no respect for his privacy or his time, he’d only gotten as far as shapeless base colors.

He sighed. Deeply.

He hadn’t really wanted the down time in the first place, not with the fact they’d already be down with Gordon out of commission. But if Scott was going to force him to take it, he planned on going no further than his own sanctuary, not far from where he could keep an eye on his errant younger brother. He could make his own fun easily, and it had been a long time since he’d been able to find himself in the place of creativity uninterrupted.

“Squid,” he acknowledged, ignoring for the moment that Gordon knew his key code. Virgil twirled his brush in a cup of water and let it rest there on the table with his palette, before turning to his sibling. The grays of the city in his mind dissipated with the onslaught of the neon orange of the cast at Gordon’s wrist.

One he’d put there with his negligence.

“Scott catch you? How’s the pain today?”

Shrugging off the expected concern that his medic brother had a hard time suppressing, Gordon waved the restrained limb. "Pain's all good. Doesn't even itch." As if to contradict his own statement, a tingling sensation ran across the skin of his forearm and prompted his other hand to try to ease it away. "Okay, it itches a little, but nothing I can't handle."

His broken wrist was the least of their worries, anyway. Gordon had grown up with his fair share of wrist fractures from all the adventures on a Kansas farm. They were likely the reason for the break after a short fall through the open cargo hold of a sinking ship.

The real problem… "So, whacha workin' on?" …could wait a little longer.

"Just experimenting." Virgil glanced over at his painting. It was a lot easier to explain it that way rather than walking the aquanaut through his actual creative process, which sometimes felt a little backward even in his own head. “Want to tell me what was worth breaking and entering for?”

"Technically, I didn't break anything," Gordon teased, preparing himself for the real reason he'd invaded. "But, I did run into Scott. He actually wanted to talk to both of us, so I told him I could relay the message."

"Uh? How about my peace and quiet?"

"Well, about that…" He shoved his good hand into his pocket, rocking back on his heels to lean against the wall. "Big bro thinks we'd have more peace and quiet off the island. Y'know, like a vacation."

"A vacation?" He raised his eyebrow. "With you?"

The general consensus among Tracy's was that Gordon was both the most fun and the most dangerous to be with during downtime. Virgil didn't mind the spontaneity the way it seemed to short-circuit John, or even Scott, but where Virgil's idea of spontaneous meant following the sunset with his paints, Gordon's ideas meant a festival or a party.

Been there, done that. Virgil did not want to relive college.

But also, Gordon was his copilot, and their time together lately had been quite specific to the rescue business. Virgil didn't remember the last time he was on the receiving end of an epic Gordon Tracy maritime rant, and that was a stark reminder of how busy they'd been lately.

Perhaps of how overworked, and a bit careless. Resulting in injured wrists.

"What did you have in mind?" Virgil smiled, repressing his sigh in favor of moving forward instead of focusing on his mistakes.

"Well, anywhere with water would be my first choice, but with this thing," Gordon waved the cast with a grimace, "I'd be more annoyed than relaxed. You have any ideas?"

“There are other places to relax,” Virgil responded, coming up beside him to clasp the back of his neck and rub where Gordon kept his stress. Being barred from the water meant he lacked his usual outlets, and a cooped up Gordon was a fish wound tight. "Pick a mountain range. Or a city?"

His shoulders drooped under the easing pressure on his underused muscles. Missing his morning laps was taking its toll. Sure, he could walk the island, but that lacked the intensity he was used to. So where on Earth could they go that offered more than what they already had on Tracy island?

"As much as I love a picturesque mountain range, I'm not as good at sitting still and enjoying it as you are. Maybe a city? Which one though?" The hustle and bustle would definitely keep them occupied, but there was always the security risk that would drive Kayo into a tizzy. Gordon's box of disguises hadn't eased her worries about the last trip they'd planned either.

"Somewhere we've been?" Virgil asked. "Or somewhere new? What about a place chosen at random. You like surprises."

Random? The word snagged on his mind and pulled him up from the flurry of ideas Gordon had been trying to narrow down.

Pushing off the wall, he caught his brother's eye with a look of mischief and a grin to match. "Random, huh? I think I've got an idea. C'mon." Without waiting, the blonde stepped past his co-pilot, his attempt the upper level of the lounge.

“Dubious." But, by the time Virgil could finish the word, Gordon was long gone from the studio, and only Virgil’s art supplies were nearby to hear him sigh.

He stepped into the hallway, following after the flash of neon from Gordon's cast, and listening for the cadence of footsteps he knew better than his own.

The bounce was back in his step.

That was the thing Virgil admired most about his brother. He was never knocked down for long.

Virgil followed him to the top floor of the lounge where, in a rare turn of circumstances, it was empty for once.

Gordon knew exactly where he would find what they needed, the ancient books surrounding it like walls of protection. His good hand pushed one set aside while his fingers protruding from his cast snagged the folded paper.

"Got it!" He announced with a wiggle of the parchment before clumsily unfolding it. A map, certainly an antique now, but definitely used often enough by their grandparents before the invention of GPS offered a view of the globe. "We can use darts or something. Random enough?"

“You want us to throw darts at a map?” Virgil raised an eyebrow. “And just go wherever it lands?”

That would be super random, even for him. Even for Gord- no, actually that was the exact type of random it seemed Gordon needed. A place where they wouldn't have time to stress about planning, wherever the wind took them. His bewilderment curled into a smile thinking that John would certainly lecture him that he would be letting gravity and physics make decisions for him. And not, in fact, the earthen breeze.

"I know where we can get darts." There was a set in Scott's private office near a poked through poster of corporate names their elder brother kept hung on the wall after stressful negotiations. Virgil even caught a Fischler and Lemaire on there at one point, but the names had been bulls-eyed into oblivion.

Barging into Scott's office was more Gordon's speed, so Virgil held up a hand to stop Gordon behind him before he entered. He held up a finger to his lips and gestured for Gordon to wait there.

With the creaking of the door, Scott eyed him warily, the earpiece linked to the computers flashing green in use. Don't ask Virgil mouthed, knowing Scott would get the gist.

He returned to the hall victorious, shutting the door behind him silently before Gordon's inevitable whoop could reach the ears of those on the other side of Scott's call.

"Awww spoil sport," Gordon teased at the obvious attempt at keeping big brother's meeting professional. "C'mon, we can set it up in my room." With the map tucked under his arm, the blonde led the way back up the stairs, past their bedrooms and to his studio, the stickered door sliding open without a keycode. Gordon liked to keep his space unlocked, ready to entertain any of his brother's who dared to venture in.

Inside, a stack of boxes were evident from the hallways glow. As he flicked on the light, the rest of the room came into view. The boxes had been leaned against the first of three shelving units, each housing trinkets he'd bought from treasure hunters. Some were his own finds, but that was a secret he'd learned to keep between himself and the crew he traveled with. Despite what his brother's thought of the hobby, Gordon took great strides to ensure junk yard owners were aware and compensated for the time spent on hunts.

The walls beyond held other types of treasures - trophies and ribbons that spanned the entire space. From his first races to his last, the little ribbon held just as much importance as the gold.

Further in were Gordon's tanks and he stopped briefly to check on his two new reef fish he'd discovered struggling to survive after one was injured and the other a host for a parasite. Another week and they'd be good to go back home.

The last wall held maps, none like the one under his arm, however. These held currents and ocean geographical locations. Pins and scribbled notes were dotted all around it in a rudimentary pattern of research. Of course, Gordon had the holographic maps with precise data, but there was always something nice about doing things the old way, just for the experience. It was as good a place as any to set up their game of vacation darts.

"Alright, let me do that," Virgil said, rolling his eyes fondly as Gordon fumbled with the map despite his cast. Once it was in hand, Virgil tacked it up with some of the already existing pins overtop Gordon's research. "You sure this won't mess up your studies?"

"They'll be fine," he smiled at the consideration of his work. "Plenty of holes already, shouldn't hurt to add a few more. Bonus points if we land one in a pin!" Gesturing to the map, his grin widened, "Age before beauty."

Right. Trust Gordon to turn it into another challenge. Virgil stepped back for a better view, making sure the map display was straight and sturdy. His gaze lingered on the tanks and displays as he turned back to his brother. On anyone else that mischievous grin would look like someone up to no good. On Gordon, it looked like a Tuesday.

“I’m not entirely convinced that you wouldn’t just aim for the ocean on principle. Nearest island city if we land in the drink?” he proposed, satisfied when Gordon nodded. Despite Gordon’s enthusiasm for random, Virgil secretly hoped they did land near a populated area if not for Gordon’s sanity, for his own. Entertaining a bored Gordon was not among the top of his resume.

The plan was to each throw a dart to find their options, and then they’d choose between the two. Internally, Virgil knew he wouldn’t be doing any choosing. It was Gordon who was injured and needing the change of scenery.

Virgil felt the weight of the darts in each of his palms and practiced the motion without releasing them to decide which throw felt more appropriate for his hands. He didn’t have Gordon’s sharpshooting aim, but he did have an advantage being ambidextrous.

Except, Gordon’s cast was on his dominant hand.

“Hold these,” he ordered, handing the darts to his brother, as he then stripped off his outer flannel and rolled the fabric up lengthwise so that it could fit around his head and then some. The longest point was the wingspan of the sleeves, which he tied behind his head as the world went dark. “Spin me.”

The sheer joy he felt at this turn of events left Gordon stunned for a moment, unable to take his eyes off his brother. It was only a short pause before he took full advantage of what Virgil had given him and began carefully turning him on the spot. At about the tenth turn - and a low grunt that told him that was plenty - Gordon positioned his brother back to facing his target.

Taking a step back to give Virgil plenty of room, he cheered, "You're all set!"

"See if I trust you ever again," Virgil mumbled while his stomach settled, though it was not packed with any heat. He knew what he was getting into by offering, and though his body rebelled at the spinning in his brain, he smiled at the laughter vibrating from the fish beside him.

Without thinking too much about it, he let the dart fly knowing that it was in Gordon's best interests to make sure he was facing the right way. It would be his own valuables at stake if he'd attempted any other trickery.

The small dart gave a satisfying thunk as it pierced through paper and corkboard. Virgil lifted the makeshift blindfold from his eyes, the curiosity getting the better of him while the world swam as it came back into view. Gordon was laughing beside him.

"Where'd I hit?"

Calming his laughter enough to speak, the blonde pointed, "In the ocean, just to the left of Tracy island. Not sure Scott would go for that one." Stepping forward, he nudged his brother out of the way. "I'll go and then you can try again."

Taking one of the darts, Gordon tried positioning it in the fingers protruding from his cast, finding his dexterity greatly inhibited. A noted glare from the medic beside him and he begrudgingly switched the dart to his left hand. For only a second, he considered the blindfold, but with his handicaps, he'd be lucky just to hit the wall. No, this was fair.

Aiming towards a small patch of islands he knew fondly for their beaches and street food, Gordon aimed and threw. The dart arced, bypassing the islands and landing to the left, of the coast of India.

"Ooh, it's been a while since we went to Sri Lanka. Alright, Virg, your turn."

Virgil accepted the dart and lowered his flannel blindfold for an attempt to land somewhere other than Tracy Island.

Over the next few minutes, they landed numerous pinpricks over the map, from Tokyo to Chicago, and had managed to plan their next three trips for times off duty.

Gordon was mid-turn on a dizzied Virgil when Scott came knocking on the door. He swiftly entered, knowing Gordon kept his study a welcoming space. After evaluating the scene - the world map on the wall, his darts a murder over Europe, his brother blindfolded with his own shirt - Scott sighed deeply, rubbing at his temples.

"What is going on in here?"

So wrapped up in the fun of spinning his co-pilot, Gordon startled with a quick laugh, "Oh, Hey, Scott! Um, well, we couldn't decide where to go for vacation, so we're leaving it up to darts and a map." He gestured to the wall in excitement. "You'll be pleased to know it's very productive."

"Hmm. Well, don't throw that yet, Virgil," Scott warned. He ducked under the path of Virgil's questionable aim and collected a number of his darts. "I'm going to need these back after the call I just had."

After a beat, he turned back towards them, flicked one of the darts into position and let it fly toward the world. "Actually, I'd rather come with you."

#Fic Collab #Godsliltippy #Gaviiadastra #FishTank Week 2023

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secret-library-of-tracy-island · 7 months

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All Hands Code Verde by @gaviiadastra

Gorgeous story which is simultaneously fluffy and an angsty tearjerker.

Beautiful characterisation of the boys, and a flashback to the aftermath of losing Mom and how that shapes their lives in the present day.

Also much Tracy Island plant lore..

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds #scott tracy #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #john tracy #gladys tedford #episode ref: growing pains #sally tracy #Mom Tracy #grief #plant blindness #plants #thunderfluffyangst #thunderfluff #thunderangst #gaviiadastra #fic recs

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phading · 1 year

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Just Posted! AO3

Thank you, Thunderfam, for all of your support with the wreck and the resurrection of TIME.

Special thanks to Gavii for Fantasia!

#thunderfam #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #scott tracy #gaviiadastra #read on ao3

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squiddokiddo · 1 year

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You've posted some that you've been having a rough time, so I wanted to send along some happy squid hugs. 🦑😎🤗🦑

Hi, yeah tbh I've been feeling quite numb to everything and talking to people has been hard but I'm alive.

I want to interact more and participate in the events like Nutty's pallete challenge and the March of the Ocs but I might not be able to make much. (;– –)

Thank you for my squid hugs, sending some back to you.💛💛

#squiddo's inbox #squiddokiddo answers #mental health #mental illness #gaviiadastra #thunderfam

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gumnut-logic · 2 years

Photo

Scott had a guitar.

Not many people knew that. John, of course, John knew everything. Probably Grandma, she tended to really get into her cleaning crazes on occasion and he doubted there were any stones she’d left unturned on the Island. But she was discreet and respectful and he had trusted her with his life on many an occasion, so relics in the back of his closet were a no brainer.

Virgil definitely knew, being the musician of the family.

But then Virgil was the main reason why the guitar rarely saw the light of day. It wasn’t easy being brother to a musician of Virgil’s calibre. Everyone knew Virgil had what it took to make pretty much any musical instrument do whatever he wanted it to, and well. No matter how humble he was about it.

Scott had the musical training from their mother. Had even more than Virgil since he was the eldest. But time, other interests, and the overwhelming obviousness of his brother’s skill had removed whatever little bit of talent Scott had to the back of the closet.

He couldn’t live up to Virgil in the music realm, so why bother? Besides, if he wanted to be competitive about it all, Scott left Virgil in the dust in a lot of other areas anyway.

He was quite happy to let his brother have this one.

Scott Tracy didn’t have to be the best at everything, did he?

After they lost their mother, music became ever more sacred in their household. Virgil adopted their mother’s piano and the family looked to him for solace for the missing music of their mother.

Scott did, too. Scott loved to listen to Virgil play the piano. He was ever so proud of him.

But somewhere deep inside, there was the occasional need to grab his guitar and play. Maybe he had a few long-ignored genes from his mother. Perhaps Virgil was rubbing off on him. Was creativity contagious?

In any case, the guitar stayed with him and on those extremely rare moments when he was alone and not exhausted, he would sometimes take it out and pluck a few rusty chords.

No one ever heard him. The villa soundproofing took care of that. Just simple strumming. Quiet notes exercising rusty skills.

In those times he would think of his mother. Remember her sitting beside him, showing him how the guitar worked. It wasn’t her primary instrument. That was the piano. But she knew the theory and young Scotty Tracy wanted to be a rock star one day, just like all five-year-olds. Admittedly, this five-year-old tended to visualise being said rockstar while standing on top of a variety of fast moving aircraft, all concept of physics yet to become fully understood, but the spirit was there.

He learnt the fingerings as his younger brother started piano recitals, excelling above all expectations and beyond Scott’s little triflings.

It was meant to be and Scott had no argument with it. Virgil was the creative fountain in the family as much as John was the genius, Gordon the fish and Alan…well, Alan hadn’t settled on his niche yet, but then was showing all the signs of settling on several. A little like Virgil, come to think of it.

As he sat on the edge of his bed, the guitar was light on his leg. The strings needed tuning and he ran through maintenance without thought, long fingers tweaking sound. Once satisfied, he let out a breath and his shoulders dropped.

The first notes were a balm on his soul.

The guitar was unlike the piano. The piano was Virgil. The piano was his mother. The guitar…was something just for himself.

It was a simple six string classical, nothing fancy like the electric guitar that was little more than an ornament on Alan’s bedroom wall. Scott plucked each string gently, pulling each individual sound out rather than blurring them together. A simple tune for a simple instrument played simply with his simple skill.

It was a comfort, perhaps from his mother, just for him. Perhaps in memory of times long gone.

Maybe just something he liked to do for no reason at all.

No pressure.

No demand.

Just simple sound for his ears only.

The notes danced.

And he played.

-o-o-o-

Click here to read the wonderful sequels by @gaviiadastra and @womble1

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Scott Tracy #nuttyfic reblog #gaviiadastra #womble1

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tsarinatorment · 1 year

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John and the Mechanic for the ask game

John: If you could become an instant expert on any topic, what would you choose?

...My first instinct was human bones but considering that's what I'm already trained in I'm not sure that counts. Maybe languages - I'm absolutely rubbish at learning other languages but they fascinate me and I really wish I was better at them!

Mechanic was already answered here: https://tsarinatorment.tumblr.com/post/701389746233114624/tag-ask-game-the-mechanic-whats-something-about

#gaviiadastra #ask game

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dragonoffantasyandreality · 2 years

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Your favorite line of dialogue for the fanfic ask game. Thanks!!!

"I mean, don't you remember last time you tried to poke your nose into somethin'? You nearly got your arse beaten by Spectrum!"

This is perhaps one of my favorite lines I ever had the biggest pleasure to write. 🤣 And it was said by one of my OCs.

Someone should not be messing with Spectrum's business lol.

This is from Kamen Rider Thunderbirds, chapter 4 (which is still in the works and I have yet to post another part), but you can read it where this dialogue came from here if you are interested. ☺️

#my asks #ask game #gaviiadastra

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tsarisfanfiction · 2 years

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For fanfic writer asks- 4. What is your favorite dialogue? I'll leave it open for any fandom so it is whatever resonates with you most.

Not going to lie, I saw "any fandom" and had a bit of a panic because I've got well over 200 fics published by now and picking one piece of dialogue out of all of those is hard.

The one that sprang into my mind out of nowhere is something I wrote several years ago for Tales From the Heart (don't ask me why this suddenly came to mind when it's two main fandoms ago, because I don't know). This is specifically from #123 Tease.

"Careful," Shachi warned, a mock-severe expression on his face, looking over Law's shoulder at the bounty poster his captain was scrutinising, a tattooed finger tracing over the D. on the poster absently. "Someone might think you've got a crush on the guy if you don't stop staring." Law's head snapped up, golden eyes glaring at him. "Don't be ridiculous," he retorted, setting it down on the table. Penguin, appearing on his other side, reached forwards and picked it up. "Strong, crazy, big grin… kid's pretty cute.. Wouldn't blame you," he added, solemn look melting into a grin as Law snatched the poster back with a glare. "Keep your immaturity to yourself," the younger man snapped, moving to stand up. "I'm going to my room. Don't disturb me." His attempt to get to his feet was thwarted by both men, who leaned their arms on his shoulders casually, pinning him to the chair in the process. "Now, you know we can't let you off that easily," Shachi told him seriously. "What sort of big brothers would we be if we did that?" Law spluttered in shock. "Big-" "Our little brother's growing up so fast," Penguin mourned, leaning more heavily on Law. Shachi mimicked the movement on the other side. "Why, it feels like only yesterday he was a little brat and now look at him with his first crush!" "Little-?" Law demanded. "I'm your captain!" They ploughed on as if he hadn't said anything. "A delicate situation, for sure," Shachi agreed solemnly. "The boy will need careful vetting." "We can't have our little brother falling for some careless ruffian," Penguin nodded, and Law pushed at the pair of them indignantly. "Would you two stop talking nonsense?" he complained sharply. "Nonsense?" Shachi repeated indignantly. "How is having your best interests at heart nonsense?" Law opened his mouth to retaliate, before sighing and giving up. "You two are idiots," he muttered under his breath. "I'm not your brother, I'm your captain-" "So?" Penguin interrupted before he could finish his sentence. "Who says you can't be both?" Shachi asked, his voice low. They were teasing – they had to be, the grins from earlier couldn't have screamed it much louder if they'd tried – but there was something about the words that sounded almost genuine.

Put one of my fic titles in my askbox and ask me about it

#gaviiadastra #tales from the heart #one piece #heart pirates #penguin #shachi #trafalgar law

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tagsecretsanta · 4 months

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From @alexthefly

From @alexthefly to @gaviiadastra

FUN AND GAMES NIGHT

The prompts:

A Tracy Island games night;

Something’s cooking in the kitchen;

Put the mess in domestic.

Rating: teen

Content warnings:

Moderate whump (fracture, soft tissue injuries);

Alcohol throughout (no drunkenness);

Flirting, including innuendo and one sex mention;

One instance of swearing.

Other warnings: a bit of Pen & Ink included in this one; hope that's ok.

**********

A familiar combination of thrusters, VTOL and a slightly-delayed sonic boom signalled Thunderbird One's return to the island. Gordon immediately felt his heart-rate leap a hundred beats.

“They’re here! Action stations! Alan, fluff the cushions; Virgil, get the food; Kayo…”

Whatever task Gordon had been about to assign to her fizzled away in a blaze of epic side-eye.

“...just kick back and relax, ok? No biggie.”

He backed away a few steps just to be safe, but his sister seemed satisfied, pointedly putting her feet back up on the coffee table before returning to her romance book.

Any other day the temptation to comment on her choice of reading material would be far too much to bear, however hazardous to his health such a comment might be, but today he had other things occupying his mind.

“What can I do?” asked John, making to get up just as Virgil - already on his feet - pushed him firmly back down onto the sofa.

“You can stay right there, Mister,” he said, voice full-medic stern. “You know the rules. First night down from Five means no unnecessary moving around.”

John rolled his eyes and muttered something in Russian, but thankfully stayed where he was.

Gordon flashed the big man a grateful smile on his way past to the kitchen. The last thing he needed right now was a certified space-case causing a danger to himself and others.

Not tonight.

“Shall I get some tunes ready?” Alan had already pulled his tablet out from behind a pillow and started tapping. “I’ve got a great playlist I’ve been working o-”

“Is it video game music?” asked Kayo, not even looking up.

“Yeah?”

“No!” The chorus was unanimous.

“Aww, but it’s not like normal video games. It’s this really cool mix of techno and-”

“NO!”

Alan pouted. “Oh, so I guess you'd all rather listen to Fish-boy’s sea shanties and Europop?”

“Hey!”

Gordon was all ready to defend his frankly impeccable musical taste, but John was clearly not in a mood for bickering.

“EOS, could you put on playlist P3 please?”

“Of course John.”

And with that the room was filled with gentle contemporary music - upbeat but not too raucous, neither intrusive nor dull - ideal for an evening with company. Obviously it was no Wellerman, but it wasn’t half bad.

“Would you like some ambient lighting as well?”

“Not right now, thankyou EOS” replied John, ruffling Alan’s hair as he sat back down with a huff. “Is everything okay up there? Any calls? I could dial in if you need me?”

“Absolutely not,” said Kayo, an edge of menace in her voice. “You’re staying right where you are. Grandma’s orders.”

John scowled.

“Really John, there’s no need,” continued EOS. “I’m perfectly capable of handling things for one evening.”

Gordon noted the slight drop of his big brother’s shoulders but decided not to tug on that thread just now. Gravity always did a number on John the first night down, and it had been known to make him grumpy and homesick.

Virgil wandered back in carrying a big bucket filled with ice water, bottles of beer, prosecco, and cans of soda. With every step another puddle of ice water sloshed over the side and onto the floor.

“Allie, get a cloth would you? And could someone get some glasses out please? I’m kinda weighed down here.”

Kayo and Alan each grabbed one of John’s shoulders, using them to both pin him down and haul themselves up. The older man started to object, but was distracted by a ping on Alan’s tablet beside him.

“Scott’s on his way up now.”

Oh god oh god oh god.

Gordon had the sudden and inexplicable urge to dunk his head in the bucket Virgil had just set down, but instead decided to busy himself with robustly re-plumping the chair pillows while bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.

“So everything’s ready, right? Place is tidy, drinks are out, games are stacked, food’s in hand… Are we all set? Should I open a window? It’s kinda hot in here.” Am I sweating? “Maybe I should go change-”

“Breathe Gordon.” soothed Virgil, resting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. The weight of it felt good. Calming. “This isn’t a state dinner; just a normal games night like we’ve done a thousand times before. Nothing to get worked up about.”

Gordon scoffed. “Except it’s not though, is it? ‘Cos those other times it was just us, not-”

There was a ding and the elevator doors slid open.

“Right through here Lady Penelope.” Scott Tracy, suave as always, smoothly waved their guest into the room. “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable and we’ll get started.”

“Thankyou Scott. And sorry again that you had to come and collect me…”

And there she was. Penelope.

Perfection personified. The epitome of class and grace. A beautiful angel with a heart of gold and a spine of steel, whose voice was a song and whose smile could reduce whole armies to-

“Gordon, what on earth are you doing to that cushion?”

Huh?

He looked down at his hands to see the pillow he’d been fluffing, now scrunched and twisted over and over as if he were trying to throttle the poor thing. As he stared down trying to compute the mess of fabric and stuffing it suddenly disappeared from his hands, and then something was shoving him in the back, causing him to stumble forwards over his own feet. He recovered just in time to spot Virgil throwing the battered scatter cushion back behind the sofa, grinning from ear to ear.

Oh, there will be vengeance…

Right now though she was looking at him and oh god he needed to say something.

“Uh…”

Quick as you like, Tracy.

“Er…” His throat made a strange sort of rasping sound.

Any words will do!

“Lady Penelope!” he squeaked. “Welcome in! Come here! I mean come in. Welcome here. You’re welcome here. To our home I mean. This home. Where we…”

He glanced over and caught sight of Kayo, face in hand, shaking her head behind the temporary bar they’d set up for the evening.

“Drink!” he exclaimed, just a little too loudly. “Can I… Would you like a drink?”

The small, knowing smile she gave him was all at once thrilling and completely mortifying; a glorious little needle of light straight through his poor, mortal little heart.

“That would be wonderful. Thankyou Gordon.”

Cheeks burning, he slumped off to the bar and a consolatory shoulder nudge from Kayo while Scott showed Penelope to the seating area. Virgil scooted around them and disappeared back down to the kitchen, throwing him a sympathetic look on the way.

After getting their guest settled, Scott casually folded himself down on the sofa next to her. “So how come Parker didn’t join us tonight? He was more than welcome.”

Gordon loudly shovelled a scoopful of ice into a long glass and then reached for the schnapps.

Stupid Never-flustered Always-has-the-right-words Scott Tracy…

“He wasn’t feeling too good I’m afraid. He said something about Lilian’s casserole disagreeing with him, but to be honest I suspect it was probably more to do with the FA cup final showing on BBC.”

Cranberry, orange wedge…

Kayo cleared her throat softly. “So what drink was it you wanted, Lady Penelope?”

Gordon’s brain short-circuited, vodka in hand.

What.. drink?

He replayed the conversation - such as it had been - through again in his head.

…Dammit, he forgot to ask! He’d been so flummoxed he’d ended up mixing on autopilot.

“Oh, anything really. Whatever you’re all having.” Penelope looked over curiously. “What’s that you have there, Gordon?”

Aww hell.

“It’s a… umm… Sex on the Beach.”

Now it was John’s turn to facepalm while Alan snickered from behind his tablet. Even Scott snorted before passing it off with a hasty clear of the throat.

Lady Penelope, however, held Gordon’s gaze, expression inscrutable, then ever so slowly arched one perfectly coiffured eyebrow.

“Well, that sounds interesting. But perhaps just some wine for now and we’ll see how we get on.”

There was a squeak beside him, and Kayo ducked down behind the bar giggling. Alan snort-coughed and had to be hit on the back by John, who was at least trying - somewhat painfully - to keep a straight face. Scott just grinned at him.

Gordon stood there, stunned into inertia, though he wasn’t quite sure if it was his own mortification holding him back or the slight hint of mischief in Penelope’s eye, almost as if…

Nope, he was definitely imagining it.

Scott looked from one to the other for a moment then, chuckling to himself, jumped to his feet and strode over to the bar.

“C’mon Fish,” he said quietly, grabbing a champagne flute off the bar top and flashing his best, most reassuring, big brother smile. “Let’s go choose a game and get this thing started.”

Gordon nodded, dumbfounded. He grabbed his ridiculous but perfectly mixed drink, complete with little novelty umbrella, and trudged over to the seating area.

Alan was already giving the assembled group a run-down of the various choices lined up for the evening. “We’ve got all your classics like backgammon, chess, battleships, guess who…”

“Those are all for two people, Allie,” said Scott, grabbing himself a beer and pouring Penelope her wine. “How about something we can all play?”

“Clue then?”

“That needs six. We’ve got seven.”

“I don’t mind sitting out the first round if you need me to,” Penelope said gently, accepting her drink.

“Not a chance,” said John firmly. “You’re our guest.”

Alan looked around, confused. “Wait, who’s the seventh?”

Kayo passed him a soda from the bucket.

“Uh, Virgil(?)”

“Oh yeah.”

““Oh yeah” he says,” came Virgil’s voice over the ‘comms. “How soon I’m forgotten(!)”

“Sorry Virg!” Alan slurped his soda loudly, earning him a frown from both Scott and Gordon. “Guess I’m just too hungry to think. Where’s the food at?”

“It’s coming. Just waiting for the vol-au-vents to puff up.”

Alan nearly spat out his soda.

“Vol-au-vents?! What happened to our wings and chi- Oww!”

A pillow flew across the room and caught Alan right upside the head. He got back up and glared at Gordon, who was already gearing up for another throw.

“Whatcha do that for?”

Penelope looked from one to the other, realisation dawning.

“I do hope you didn’t go to any trouble, Virgil. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Not at all. Really, it’s all in hand. I’ll be up in a few.”

And with that the comms blinked off.

John swayed forward in his seat. “Y’know, I might go give him a hand…”

“Sit down, John!” ordered Scott, clearly done with them all by this point.

John remained there for a second, possibly weighing up the odds of making a run for it, then sat back down, arms folded definitely-not-at-all petulantly.

“...Fine.”

“What about Monopoly?” suggested Penelope, clearly trying to change the subject. “That can have up to eight players.”

Kayo shook her head.

“Can’t.”

“Oh?”

“We’ve been banned,” Alan piped up. “Grandma said so.”

A pause. “...I see.”

“Well that doesn’t matter, does it?” urged Gordon, keen to get everyone playing before the whole evening went up in smoke. “Grandma can’t stop us from all the way in Gran Roca.”

“You sure about that, Gords?” asked Kayo, eyebrow raised.

He laughed nervously. “Heh…”

“In any case,” interjected Scott, “did you forget why Grandma banned it?”

“...Good point.”

The Great Tracy Anti-capitalist Revolution of 2056. In Gordon’s defence Scott had started it, buying up all those hotels like a dragon hoarding gold…

Alan held up a bunch of VR headsets. “How about something more modern? I’ve got Samurai Slasher, Twilight Ridge, Malibu Steade’s Epic Quest…?”

Scott frowned. “Not on John's first night down, Squirt.”

“Oh yeah. Gotcha.”

Gordon nodded. Way too much potential for injury.

“Ugh!” John threw his hands in the air. “You guys are like a flock of mother hens. I’m fine! Look…” He rolled to his feet before anybody could tell him not to. “Nice and steady. No wobbles, no stumbles. Nothing. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to the bathroom.”

“Uh, Johnny…”

“John darling...”

“Nope, I’m not listening,” he barked, striding purposely out of the seating area towards the stairwell, “Comfort breaks are necessary, so I don't care what you s-”

“John!”

“Food’s here!”

“Look out!”

There was an “oof” and a crash as spaceman, heavy-lifter and a platter of freshly-made vol-au-vents collided in a mess of limbs and pastry before tumbling out of sight down the kitchen stairs.

“John!”

“Virgil!”

Everyone was on their feet as a series of thuds, grunts, clatters and clangs echoed from the stairway, followed by one very plaintive “Oww.”

The place immediately erupted into total uproar. Ever the level head, Kayo immediately ran to get the first aid kit and the medi-scanner. Meanwhile Scott - always the quickest to leap into action - practically flew down the stairs after the pair of them in a frenzy of big brotherly concern, with Alan, Gordon and Penelope following closely behind.

The two fallers themselves were actually relatively uninjured in the circumstances. Both were a mess of bruises and grazes and smooshed pastry, but at least they were fully conscious and coherent enough to be thoroughly embarrassed by the whole thing. John had twisted his ankle and had a walnut-sized bump on his forehead, and Virgil (who had slid most of the way down the steps backwards) ended up with a bruised tailbone, strained shoulder and one broken finger.

The kitchen, unfortunately, hadn’t fared quite so well. Total disaster was the most accurate description.

Best they could figure, the metal serving platter Virgil had been carrying had reached the ground floor airborne, bounced off the doorframe and had landed right in the middle of the countertop, sending plates, bowls, jars and spoons scattering and smashing all over the place. The situation wasn’t helped any when MAX, having heard the commotion, came speeding into the kitchen brandishing a mop and broom, skidded on a stray patch of vol-au-vent filling, slammed into the fridge and sent ice cubes from the dispenser shooting across the floor, then got confused and started spinning on the spot, taking out the stand mixer and two cupboard doors in the process.

Eventually they managed to get things back on a somewhat even keel. After a thorough checking over and an even more thorough mothering from Big Bro, both casualties were helped to their feet and safely installed back on the sofas with strict instructions not. To. Move.

Penelope kept herself busy fetching drinks and ice packs for the patients and generally trying to soothe frayed nerves while Gordon, Alan and Kayo set to work fixing the kitchen back up, but after twenty minutes Scott - aware of the time and the presence of their guest - called everyone back to try to enjoy what was left of the evening.

And so instead of vol-au-vents, chips and dips were retrieved from various stashes in various rooms, drinks were replenished (non-alcoholic for the two injured parties, eliciting low grumbles from one and shrug of “stupid gravity” from the other) and in lieu of further disagreements a couple of packs of cards was produced.

The rest of the evening was spent enjoying rounds of Go Fish, rummy, and playing poker for bottle caps, with plenty of jokes, stories and good conversation enjoyed in-between. Towards the end of the night - and to Gordon’s delight - Penelope even taught them a game from her university days called Shithead.

Finally, after most of the others had said their goodnights and wandered off to their rooms, Gordon and Penelope sat side-by-side on the sofa finishing their drinks alone, save for Alan who was snoring softly on the floor beside them.

Penelope swirled the last of her drink with her straw. “Do you think we should move him? That doesn’t look very comfortable…”

Gordon shrugged. “Nah, that’s how he normally sleeps. It’s a teenager thing,” he added, chewing on his orange slice garnish.

Penelope beamed. “I really have had a lovely time tonight. It’s been the most terrific fun, injuries notwithstanding of course.”

Her eyes seemed to sparkle in the warm mood lighting that EOS had finally persuaded John to put on an hour or so earlier.

“And this drink of yours really is delicious by the way.”

Gordon laughed.

“See? I knew you’d like it. Maybe one day I’ll open up a bar of my own right on the beach and serve them out of coconut shells.”

He removed the little paper umbrella from his glass and started opening and closing it like he was in a tiny Hollywood musical.

She laughed. “Well if tonight’s anything to go by, any bar of yours would never be dull!”

Gordon grinned and presented the tiny decoration to her with a flourish, all hint of his earlier embarrassment gone. He was here, she was here, and it was all just… right.

She accepted it with a smile.

Really though Gordon, it’s been the most wonderful night.”

There was a pause while she twirled the umbrella in her hand thoughtfully.

“You know, it’s not always easy to relax around other people, especially in my line of work.” She sighed. “So many functions, so many people, but it can all sometimes feel just a little bit…”

She shook her head.

“I’m not making any sense. It’s just that being here with you all, everything feels so… easy; so fun.”

Gordon leaned forwards, willing her to go on. It was like a wall somewhere was shifting, and he could finally catch a small glimpse of what was actually going on behind that perfect smile of hers.

She looked up at him, eyes shining.

“I suppose what I’m trying to say is, thankyou so much for inviting me.”

A breath. A moment that seemed to stretch out between them, soft and fragile.

“Thankyou for coming.”

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

The next morning, as Penny yawned and stretched out in the extra-soft, gloriously comfortable guest bed, luxuriating in the distinct novelty of waking up with nowhere particular she needed to be, her eye fell on the little yellow umbrella laying, just as she'd left it, on top of the nightstand beside her.

She smiled, her stomach fluttering.

So fun…

From downstairs there was a sudden commotion and a voice:

“WHAT IN GOD’S NAME HAVE YOU KIDS DONE TO MY KITCHEN?!”

#thunderbirds are go #tag team secret santa #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction

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