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loopstagirl · 4 months

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Smooth Sailing

Scott put the cool bag down with a groan and a thud he hoped no one else heard. Their grandmother had outdone herself, as usual. He glanced around. None of his brothers were in sight. No one would know if he peeked, or had a taste.

He barely touched the zipper when-,

“Don’t even think about it.”

Gordon appeared from behind the sail. Scott snatched back his hand. No doubt his brother had been checking the boat over given it had been a while since they’d taken it out. It was unlike Gordon to be a stickler for the rules though. Then the younger man winked.

“Unless you’re planning to share.”

Scott grinned, slipped a hand in, and came out with his prize: a cookie for each of them. They ate quickly, then Scott stored the bag properly before dropping back to the beach to wait for the others.

John didn’t leave them waiting long. Gordon burst out laughing when he saw the long-sleeved shirt and wide hat John was sporting.

“You’re gonna boil.”

“Better than being a lobster,” John muttered. He and Gordon had always been the most likely to burn. But the water loving Tracy had build up a tan and a tolerance after years of being out in the elements and living on a tropical island. John, however, only had to look at the sun to go bright red.

Gordon had a retort ready but Scott shook his head. He wanted to be out on the water before the arguments started, otherwise John would just refuse to come.

Virgil, however, was nowhere to be seen.

“Where is he?” Gordon complained after twenty minutes. “We’re going to miss the tide if he doesn’t hurry up. He better not be trying to bring his entire easel.”

“He won’t,” Scott said soothingly, shielding his eyes as he stared up the beach. “There he is.”

“What is he bringing?” John asked in amazement.

Scott only shook his head. There was a heavy bag hanging from each shoulder as Virgil staggered towards them. Scott went to help, hearing a familiar clink from the bag he took.

“Grandma,” Virgil panted as he finally reached the water line, dropping his remaining bag and collapsing onto the sand. “Apparently we needed more.”

Scott looked in the bag he was carrying. Bottles of water and soda greeted him, but he rummaged a bit and found the beer at the bottom.

“Nicely done,” he said. No doubt Virgil had distracted her while he slipped those in.

Scott passed the bags to John and Gordon while he hauled Virgil up from the sand.

Now they were all here, there was no reason to delay. Still, Scott found himself hesitating, standing on the beach as he looked back at the house.

“What if-,”

“Nope,” John said firmly. He and Virgil both took an arm and dragged Scott onto the boat. Gordon started the engine before Scott had the time to protest.

For half an hour or so, they didn’t speak. They were used to working together and all knew what they needed to do. Gordon cut the engine once they were far enough out and, seamlessly, they got the sail up and were soon drifting towards a good spot.

It took a while for Gordon to be happy, but eventually they stowed the sail, and the relaxation properly began.

John found the shady spot, ditching his hat and stretching out his long legs. He pulled a book from his bag, reached for a beer, and settled back with a small smile on his face. Gordon sniggered but didn’t say anything. They all knew this was paradise for John.

“You’re sure Alan didn’t mind?” Scott couldn’t help but ask. Gordon shook his head.

“Sure. He was desperate to finish the last of the training up on Five so he could be home next week. Apparently hanging out with TinTin is more important than hanging out with us these days.”

“Don’t worry,” Virgil added, prodding Scott with his toe. He, too, had made himself comfortable. He’d slipped out of his shirt, shades on, and propped himself up against the side, sketchbook already balanced on his knee, one pencil in his hand and another tucked behind his ear.

“We asked him,” he continued, “repeatedly. The entire time we were planning the trip.”

“But what if we get a call-,”

“Scott!” Three voices said in unison, and he held up his hands in surrender.

“Okay, okay,” he laughed. He’d agreed to this, after all, and it was supposed to be a chance for them to relax. Instead, he looked towards the cool bags.

“Is it lunchtime yet, then? I’m starving.”

No one bothered answering him. Gordon stood up, pulling off his shirt and kicking off his flipflops.

“Laters.”

He dived smoothly over the side of the boat. Propping his elbows on the side, Scott watched his brother swim for a few moments, before deciding to join him.

He soon forgot about the cares and worries that had been hanging over him since operations started. They pulled the snorkels out and he spent a fun hour with Gordon, exploring the area around the boat.

By that time, he really was starving, and signalled to Gordon he was going back. Gordon accompanied him (apparently it really was lunchtime this time, not just Scott’s stomach trying to convince him of that). Pulling himself back onboard, Scott smiled at the scene.

John was exactly where they’d left him, engrossed in his book. He didn’t look like he’d moved this entire time and, knowing his brother, he hadn’t.

Virgil, however, had. His sketchbook had been placed carefully to one side. The man himself was stretched out on the deck, his rhythmic breathing giving away Virgil was taking the chance for a nap.

Scott smiled, flicking a towel lightly over himself but knowing the sun would dry him in moments. John didn’t look up, but reached into the bag by his side with one hand and passed over a bottle of water without taking his eyes off his book.

Scott had downed it – not realising how thirsty he was – by the time Gordon had climbed aboard. He had his elbows propped on the side, staring out to sea, when he heard a yelp behind him.

He looked round. He really didn’t need to, knowing exactly what he’d see, but he did it anyway. Sure enough, Gordon had shaken himself off like a dog, while standing over the no-longer-snoozing Virgil.

Virgil raised a hand to lift his shades, trying to glare up at Gordon but finding the sun was in his eyes. His squint was less impressive and Gordon chuckled even as he went to get a drink for himself.

“You suck,” Virgil complained, running a hand down his chest to try and get the water off.

“You’ll be dry in two minutes,” Scott assured him, but Virgil didn’t look comforted by the thought.

Scott decided to change tack. “C’mon, it’s lunchtime.”

He disposed of his bottle and moved across the deck. John stretched, climbing to his feet, and putting his book with Virgil’s sketchpad. He was the only person Scott knew that still insisted on finding paperbacks when he was home – although thankfully didn’t moan about digital the rest of the time. Three wasn’t big enough to transport the amount of reading material John could get through during quiet times.

“How much has Grandma sent us with?” John asked as they lifted the cool bag out from where Scott had stored it.

“Two cookies less than she thinks,” Gordon muttered as he passed them.

Scott smirked but thankfully John didn’t hear – they’d never hear the end of it if their brothers found out they’d already dipped into the snacks. Then again, there was no telling what they’d been doing while Scott and Gordon had been in the water. John may have just looked like he hadn’t moved…

“Virgil!” It was half-yelp, half-shout.

Scott and John both turned.

“Virg-,” Scott began, but he honestly didn’t know what he was going to say. He wasn’t sure he wanted to.

Virgil had made it to his feet. He’d caught Gordon off-guard, going in low and catching him around the mid-riff before straightening up, Gordon over his shoulder.

“Put me down!”

“Okay,” Virgil said cheerfully. He took two quick steps towards the side of the boat, already struggling slightly to hold on to his prisoner with Gordon’s squirming.

“No- no, don’t!” It was only a half-hearted protest though; Gordon was already laughing as Virgil did as he was asked, dropping his brother.

Right over the side of the boat.

Gordon landed with an almighty splash, a far cry from his smooth dive earlier. Scott just chuckled, continuing to busy himself with getting lunch out.

“There will be payback,” a voice called from the water, but Virgil didn’t look concerned as he settled down in a spot closest to the food and started helping himself.

John shook his head fondly. He moved to the side and stretched out a hand. “Come on, fishie, before those two eat it all.”

“Wait, John-,” Scott was already moving forward. He knew exactly where this was going to go. He reached the side just as Gordon took John’s hand. But before he could move, Gordon had planted both feet against the hull and pulled.

Scott reached out, but he missed as John joined Gordon in the water with an almighty splash. Virgil gave a shout of laughter from behind him, rushing over to also peer over the side. Gordon was casually treading water when John spluttered his way to the surface.

“Rule one of any rescue, bro: check your footing,” Gordon said innocently. He was rewarded by a splash of water to the face before John swam for the steps. He climbed out, his long-sleeved shirt clinging to him, rivulets of water streaming from it.

John glanced down at himself, sighed, and peeled it off. Scott wordlessly handed him a towel and sunblock, turning away to hide his smirk. He was just in time to see Gordon climb out, and the silent high-five between him and Virgil.

Shaking his head fondly, Scott decided the safest thing to do was sit down and eat, before anything else got in the way of his food.

Gordon spent the next hour complaining he couldn’t go back in the water, but their grandmother’s rules from when they were children had lodged firmly in their minds even after all this time.

They played a few rounds of cards instead, John wiping the deck with them. When Virgil and Gordon decided to go diving, John refused, claiming he wanted to stay at a normal pressure level for a while, and Scott decided to keep him company.

Once the two were suited up and exploring the depths, Scott took out his datapad while John returned to his book. With a furtive glance at his brother, he opened the latest IR reports that he hadn’t had a chance to look through yet. He was still relaxing; it wasn’t like anyone would know…

Until a pretzel suddenly hit him on the shoulder. Scott looked up. John was still studying his book, but he glanced up, and flicked another treat at him.

“Stop it.”’

“I’m not doing anything!”

“Fine – hand it over.”

Scott quickly saved and closed the report, opening a random book as he handed the datapad over. John made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, pressed a few buttons, and handed it back.

Once he was sure his brother was reading again, Scott went back to the report. Or, at least, tried to. He couldn’t open it. He was locked out the files. He looked up again; there was a small smirk on John’s face even though he kept his focus on his book.

“Wanna play cards?” Scott said in a voice that certainly wasn’t a grumble, no matter what anyone said. John put down his book.

“Sure.”

They spent an easy couple of hours playing until Gordon and Virgil resurfaced. The rest of the afternoon was spent swimming, snorkelling, persuading John to come in, persuading Gordon to get out, and hanging out in a way they hadn’t done since International Rescue started.

As the sun started to go down, Virgil dived for his sketchpad. By the time he agreed that they could move, night had drawn in and Gordon needed the spotlights on to get back to the beach. But it was a journey they had all done plenty of times and it didn’t take long for them to get back and store the boat safely away.

Virgil and Gordon headed back towards the house, chatting quietly. John stopped, looking back across the ocean as the stars started to come out. For once, he wasn’t looking up.

“Okay?” Scott asked casually.

“Yeah,” John said, the smile obvious in his words. “It’s all good.”

As they followed their siblings back towards the house, Scott couldn’t agree more. It was all good.

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #tos #scott tracy #john tracy #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #fluff #loopstagirl #smooth sailing

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