#TAG:Love&Thunderbirds

[shirubie]

Romance Showcase Event: TAG: Love & Thunderbirds

Calling all romance fans of the TAG fandom! Love is in the air (and in space, and underwater...)!

This event is to showcase stories and art, old and new, that has romantic love as it's main theme. Want warm and fuzzy cuddles, awkward crushes or burning passion? You'll find it here!

To participate, post or reblog and use the tag #TAG:Love&Thunderbirds. Doesn't have to be your own stuff, you can link to works you like and want to share with the fandom. Just make sure to credit the original creator (no reposting please).

I'm not planning a specific start or end date for this event, so there's no deadline, you can post whenever you want.

A few ground rules:

-All ships are welcomed, even OC ships, as long as the story is centered on romance. Respect other people's ships even if they're not ones you like. Don't forget to tag your ships so that people can find/avoid them (everyone wins that way!)

-Please tag/warn for any adult or triggering content.

-Please credit the artists if you are not the creator of the work.

This is my first time starting an event, I hope to do a good job. If you have any suggestions you can send me a message.

Have fun everyone!

[alexthefly]

Take My Hand

This was supposed to be a @flashfictionfridayofficial , but I was a bit late and got my timezones mixed up, and then the word count went over and... well here it is anyway.

Or read it on AO3 here.

Also tagging @tagloveandthunderbirds 'cos ❤️

Fandom: Thunderbirds/Thunderbirds are Go

Word count: 1048

Warnings: feet/shoes

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

“You ready to do this, Sweetheart?”

Lucy took her time smoothing down the front of her dress, purposely not looking at the empty dance floor yawning in front of her.

“Are you? You know dancing isn't exactly my forte; a first dance in front of all these people just seems like asking for trouble." She shuffled in her chair. "Are trampled feet covered by the wedding insurance?”

Jeff snickered. “I checked the policy just before I came over here. We’re all set.”

“Okay, if you’re sure. But I’m wearing heels, don't forget; it's going to be like Bambi on Ice out there.”

He shrugged. 

“Well I did suggest the hiking boots instead, but you shot me down; something about ‘the aesthetic’. Which looks stunning on you, by the way.” 

He stood back to better take her in, grinning appreciatively.

“Last time I make that mistake,” she muttered, waving away the compliment. “Given ‘the aesthetic’ is currently cutting off the circulation to my pinkie toe, respectfully ‘the aesthetic’ can go jump in a lake.”

She mentally cursed the salesperson who’d talked her into putting fashion ahead of comfort.

Concern flashed across Jeff’s handsome face. “Are they really hurting you, honey? We can get you other shoes.”

She smiled up at him reassuringly. “No really, I’m exaggerating …sort of. They just kinda pinch, that's all.”

If she was totally honest with herself, it wasn't even the salesperson’s fault, really. She’d been the one chasing a dream of being perfect and ladylike, even if it was only this once. Dammit, why was dressing up fancy so hard?!

Of course it didn't help that her new husband managed it so effortlessly. He was currently working ‘the aesthetic’ to within an inch of its life, cutting a very dashing figure in his elegant new grey suit and tie, dress shirt and shoes all perfectly matched and filled out perfectly.

Seriously, where did he get off being so good-looking? 

She’d just wanted to appear worthy of him, that’s all. Jeff Tracy: ace pilot, hometown hero, handsomest guy in the county and a genuinely good man to boot. He was the prince, and just once she’d wanted to feel like she could be his match - a princess - instead of some awkward, clutzy science nerd who’d somehow managed to win the husband lottery.

She sighed. Clearly that wasn't to be.

There was a pause, then without another word her very handsome husband - God, he really did look good in that suit - knelt down in front of her and took one of her feet gently in his hands. He examined the delicate and uncharacteristically high-heeled white shoe with utmost seriousness, before removing it and flinging it across the room.

“Jeff!”

Lucy felt her face burst into flames as a roomful of eyes turned towards them.

“What? Doesn't that feel better?”

In all fairness it absolutely did. She wiggled her newly-released toes appreciatively even as she fought the urge to hide underneath the table.

“You can't just go throwing shoes around. You’re making a scene.”

He stopped and looked at her, ignoring the rest of the room, then slowly and deliberately reached out and took hold of her other foot.

“I want to enjoy a dance with my beautiful new wife, and if these admittedly pretty little shoes are getting in the way of that…” 

The second shoe flew over his shoulder, just missing a nearby waiter.

“...then they’ve gotta go.”

The room was hushed; everyone was looking at them. Part of her wanted to run and hide in the coatroom until they’d all gone, but he was holding her gaze, keeping her steady. 

“I don't want anything getting between me and the most amazing, beautiful, perfect person I ever saw, ever again.”

He rose gracefully to his feet and held out his hand to her.

“So how about it? May I have this dance?”

…

It was late spring and the cicadas were singing. Airbase staff were bustling all around, knocking into her, sending papers flying everywhere. She knelt down to pick them up, and suddenly there was a hand in front of her.

“Can I give you a hand, Miss?”

…

It was fall, and the trees around them were every shade of red. They’d talked about everything and nothing, walking side by side, until he stopped and reached out to her.

“Would it be alright if I held your hand?”

…

It was winter and the snow was falling softly. His ice skates made long swooshing noises on the ice around her, while hers clacked noisily as she tried and failed to keep her footing. Another swoosh and then he was there in front of her, hand extended.

“Okay, so not my best idea. How about we go get a hot chocolate instead? My treat?”

…

It was the last days of summer, and the clear water of the lake lapped at her toes. She’d never felt so happy in her life. A perfect day. Beside her she felt him shift nervously, and then he was holding his hand out, a little red box in it, one knee on the ground.

“I’ve got a question I wanna ask…”

…

Her head flooded with the memories of a hundred moments, small and huge, all of them important. A hundred images of him offering his hand, and at last she understood.

He'd reached out for her.

She was the one. And she was worthy, just as she was.

Smiling, she accepted the offered hand.

“Of course you may, Mr Tracy.”

He grinned and bowed. “Why thankyou, Mrs Tracy.”

She rose and he led her, barefoot and spotlit, to the dance floor without a care in the world. Keeping her hand in his, he wrapped his other arm around her waist, enveloping her like a delicate, precious treasure, safe and protected. Their eyes met and he beamed at her like his face was made of actual sunshine.

She grinned back at him.

“You’re sure about that wedding insurance now? Last chance.”

“Don’t you worry about my toes, darlin’. Just keep a hold of me and we’ll do fine.”

And with that the band struck up an old favourite, and hand-in-hand they danced the night away.

Take my hand

Take my whole life too

For I can't help falling in love with you.

[idontknowreallywhy]

Thunderbirds romance? Gotta start out with my favourite by @sweet-christabel then 😁

I’ve reread this an embarrassing amount of times, it’s my happy place 🥰

@tagloveandthunderbirds

[tos1701voy74656tmnt2012-cc]

Hey everyone! As you can probably see, this is my first time posting on Tumblr (and on AO3...) but this is fortunately not my first fic. Very grateful to @shirubie for providing me with motivation to finish this thing I started a while ago - I've been working on it the last few days despite school and everything, but I finally managed to finish it today! Hope you enjoy and don't forget to leave a comment/repost your thoughts!

Two Skies, One Promise (12137 words) by tos1701_voy74656_cc Chapters: 8/8 Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go (Cartoon 2015) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Scott Tracy/Original Female Character(s), Scott Tracy & Tracy Family Characters: Scott Tracy, Original Female Character(s), Virgil Tracy, Gordon Tracy, Alan Tracy, John Tracy, Tanusha "Kayo" Kyrano, Grandma Tracy (Thunderbirds), Brains (Thunderbirds) Additional Tags: Family, Repression, Angst with a Happy Ending, Reconciliation Summary:

In another life, a minor error in judgement on Scott Tracy's part during his Air Force days causes a rift in the timeline. When his prime universe counterpart is called in, secrets are unearthed and trust is broken, but that doesn't mean that what's left of International Rescue can't step in in time and repair the damage.

A little story about Scott Tracy and Emma Lancaster, another gifted pilot he shouldn't have forgotten about.

[bonsaiiiiiii]

dunno...Valentin's day is approaching 👀

ima tag @tagloveandthunderbirds too, cos ♡love♡

“Girl, the only thing i’d change about you is your last name~”

tagging all Scotty fans: @olliepig, @tsarinatorment, @fallenfurther, @flyboytracy, @lunalittlemiss, @janetm74, @sugar-fiend, @dragonoffantasyandreality, @angelofbenignmalevolence, @hironojp, @issychatter, @n-chu4ever, @thunderbird-one-ai, @iminiminah, @that-tag-nerd51, @scribbles97, @malignedangel, @sweet-christabel, @liseylou, @katblu42, sorry if i haven’t tagged all of you! + some close moots such as @louthestarspeaker @nourelle-tracy @cookidoughlilac

~

Scott appeared from the living room still wearing his IR suit, not even bothering to change back into his civilian clothes, and walked quickly to the kitchen where everyone was dining. At first glance it seemed that he had just returned from a rescue, except for the fact that he was seething. Of course, usually Scott, as well as the other boys, would come back from a rescue tired and exhausted, sometimes irritated too if who they had to save was particularly...difficult, but they were never angry.

But when Scott slammed his hand on the table, briefly drawing everyone’s attention, you could see it on his face that he was nervous.

"What would this be?" he asked, his voice dangerously low. Dangerously because it either meant that the situation was serious, or that Scott was exaggerating, making it look like it was.

Gordon briefly looked up from his plate. "This being what?"

Scott looked down, toward his hand that covered what he wanted the others to see. Snorting, he removed his hand, revealing... a paper sheet; there seemed to be something drawn on it.

"Oh!" Gordon said, smiling. "Do you like it?"

"I knew it was your doing! Do you have sawdust in that brain of yours?" Strange, no one seemed to get curious and lean over to see what it was about. Could it be...? "My private comms rang off uninterruptedly with non-stop calls and messages!"

"Well, be grateful that I left your private line, so that people didn’t occupy the International Rescue one."

"In that case, I would be the one to receive non-stop calls and texts." John interfered, nibbling on a bagel.

Scott looked at him one second too many. "When did you get down here?"

"About an hour ago." John had this strange face, he seemed to stifle a grin. Or he was hiding it under his bagel.

"Anyway, I don’t hear any noise, no notifications, nothing. Aren’t you lying?" Alan pointed out, crossing his arms around his chest with a sly grin. "Don’t tell me you didn’t get any girl’s attention!" After that addition there was a chain of giggles that started from Alan and spread all the way over to Grandma.

"On the contrary." He replied half-proud but also half-annoyed, pulling out his iconic blue shirt; one of the buttons on his wrist continued to light on and off with every notification that arrived. "As you can see, I get too much attention, I just silenced my comms. How did you-?" He didn’t even have to finish his sentence, because John was watching him again, now without hiding a smile himself.

"Well, cheer up bro!" Gordon took Scott’s thinking break to resume the conversation. "Your birthday is approaching, so you will receive many wishes from everyone!"

"But you could have avoided the comms open 24/7, this thing doesn’t even stop when I’m in the bathroom, without the need to tell you what I'm doing in there." At Scott’s response Kayo made a small grimace, though she was accustomed to hearing these things, while the tinies were laughing silently, that vibrating torso type of laugh, and slapping the table lightly and repeatedly; Alan in particular was about to choke on the bite he hadn’t swallowed yet.

"Careful, Scott! You don’t want to express yourself with such colorful language with the ladies!" Grandma jokingly rebuked him. "Who knows what impression you’ll make on the poor fellas..."

"So you’re telling me that with all the times you’ve flown by it, you’re just now noticing it?" Virgil asked, smiling.

Scott facepalmed, sighing and snorting at the same time. "I woke up with this infernal noise, and I thought there was a rescue to be done, so without seeing who it was, as the line is private-" with that addition he turned to Gordon. "- I answered. I had to get out of the damn bed to go check out the damn billboard." That’s why Scott was so upset: he had a rescue that kept him out of bed all night, and just when he came back for lunch and took an afternoon nap, he was disturbed. Gordon grinned evilly.

"Wait." Scott remembered Virgil’s question. "How long has that billboard been there?" His voice returned low and calm again.

Virgil stopped looking at his brother, focusing his attention on his plate.

"Ah, so you made a girl hear your sexy, powerful, bed voice! What a chance!" This day has just become a tease Scott Tracy day and Gordon was its founder; the others were too busy laughing to say anything.

"I can’t believe you all united for this amazing prank, good job you guys." Scott crossed his arms to his chest, visibly offended and sarcastic. "Which one of you should I blame the most?"

Gordon stood up at that last question, beaming. "Oh, I’m glad you asked!" Then he pulled out a holo list. "So, let’s see...Alan and I had the idea, John took care of the qr code and the link to your private line, and Kayo took care of the design! That love you is awesome."

"Thank you!" Kayo smiled at him.

"You forgot about me." Virgil corrected him.

"And me." Brains followed.

"Ah, sorry..." Gordon checked the list again, as Scott looked at the duo with a distraught expression. He understood Virgil doing this, but not Brains. Why would Brains do this to him? "Here we go, here we go. Brains offered to test the upgraded version of Thunderbird 1's drones, taking them on a fly test around the world to hand out fliers."

"Fliers?" Scott tried to interrupt him.

"And Virgil mentioned in those a free coffee date with you; you’re the one offering, of course."

"Free coffee?" Scott repeated this word too, now dumbfounded.

Gordon looked at him as if to say, what are you, a parrot? "Well, you see...this is called revenge."

"It’s revenge." Virgil repeated, high-fiving with Gordon.

"Revenge...?" Scott repeated, trying to remember. "What did I do this time?"

"Do you remember that time you painted my face while I was sleeping, and then you pulled me out of bed and made me dress up without even looking in the mirror because Penny was in the living room? That's it! You forgot to tell me Penny was in the living room!"

"No, I can assure you that I have not forgotten." Scott snickered, teasing the pufferfish.

"Eh, I didn’t forget either if this is the case. Enjoy your ladies." After that sentence, almost conveniently, the comm sounded once again, only this time it wasn't coming from his shirt.

"Oh no, not again!" Scott yelled, letting go of some curses under his breath too. Luckily Grandma didn’t seem to notice as she was answering the comms to see who it was; it was Penelope and she was smiling too.

“Scott! I was looking for you!”

"Let me guess, you saw what happened." Now that he noticed, Scott was still in his suit. It was starting to pinch his skin.

"Yes, that’s why I was looking for you."

Scott raised an eyebrow. "Hm?"

Penny raised a flier into sight, smiling. "Is the offer also valid for a cup of tea? Iced tea, perhaps?"

Scott squinted his eyes. Grandma turned to Gordon. "Gordon... run to my signal."

"Sure, it’s available for all drinks!" Virgil answered Penny’s question, chuckling. This episode would not be easily forgotten.

Grandma's signal wasn't needed as Gordon started running before she could give it, his killer squid sense kicking in; it was correct, as after he started running Scott was quickly after him.

[idontknowreallywhy]

A cute one for @tagloveandthunderbirds

Unspoken Fluff Starters

Giving them their coat: Scott & Penny

Clandestine

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Romance/Friendship Characters: Penelope, Scott

It wasn't that there would be a scandal if it got out, she just didn't want the world to know every detail of her relationships.

...Did I just write a romance fic? I think I did? That was unexpected, but it was where my muses jumped at this prompt, so here we are. I'm going to preface this by saying I am quite content with the canonical Pen&Ink ship, but I do find the idea of an earlier relationship with Scott (with an amicable end that has nothing to do with Gordon!) an interesting scenario to explore - people who have been following me a while may remember a teaser chapter I did earlier this year about Gordon finding out.

Ages in this fic are Penelope, 18, and Scott, 19. At this point, she's only met Scott and John out of the brothers. There is kissing but nothing more, although they are hormonal teenagers.

Unspoken Fluff Starters

Cashmere peacoat buttoned up tightly against the autumn chill, eighteen year old Lady Penelope accepted Parker’s assistance out of the car with all the elegance and grace expected of someone of her status. Her hair had been left loose, artfully styled to appear the smarter side of casual, yet also free enough to bounce back into position should anything ruffle it slightly during the evening.

The streets of Oxford were well-lit, yet simultaneously preserved the dark night skies above with their specially designed street lighting. It was something her good friend and course mate John Tracy approved of. Her heels – high stiletto because one did not mingle with certain Tracys without an extra couple of inches of height – clipped professionally against the worn street as she thanked Parker for his assistance and confidently made her way to her friend’s front door.

This was not an unusual occurrence, and the pale pink laptop tucked not quite fully into the handbag she was clutching would broadcast the same fact as always – after all, John was known to be the best in the year, and they had spent many evenings together going over material in his small flat since striking up a friendship. No casual observers would have any cause to consider this a different visit.

The doorbell was old, rather like the building John resided in, sounding out a sharp yet melodic trill for the duration she depressed it. A summons, one might call it, much like the servants’ bells hidden all through her estate. The sound was similar enough.

It worked just like one; seconds later the door was opened to reveal the Tracy she was there to visit.

Still, any observing masses must be appeased.

“Good evening,” she greeted, stepping across the threshold as though she owned the small flat, despite it being far below anything her social peers would ever consider possessing, “is your brother in?”

“He’s at the library, working on some assignment or other,” Scott told her, stepping out of her way seamlessly.

“Ah well,” she sighed, “I shall wait for him here, if that isn’t an inconvenience for you?” The way that blue eyes hadn’t looked away from her since the moment he opened the door told her that Scott was not at all inconvenienced by her presence.

Behind her, the door finally closed, the catch clicking into place and shutting out the outside world.

“Not at all,” Scott verbally assured her, holding out one hand. “May I take your coat, Lady Creighton-Ward?”

A childlike giggle bubbled up inside her at the formality, ruined only slightly by the way his gorgeous blue eyes glimmered in amusement, but she pushed it back down with all the experience that came with being one of the social elite heiresses.

“You may, Mr Tracy,” she responded, a little airily, as though talking to a servant – or at least a man below her standing, passing him her handbag to set down by the door before offering him her relaxed hand in greeting.

He needed no prompting to lightly grasp it and lift it to his lips, pressing a light ghost of a kiss to the back of it before stepping back so that she could strip her outermost layer. While tightly fastened, her peacoat was simple to unbutton and her deft fingers slipped the last one from its buttonhole before letting the material slip back off of her shoulders.

Scott caught it, standing a little too close behind her to be proper and brushing his hands down her arms entirely too improperly as he helped her shed it before hanging it on the coat stand that stood sentry by the door. The designer coat stood out starkly against the rugged navy denim on the hook next to it, and not just because of its pale pink colour.

The Tracy family might have money, but they rarely spent it on things such as clothes.

“May I escort you to the couch?” Scott offered her his arm, the sparkle in his eye extending to include a playful grin whispering at his mouth. He enjoyed the faux formality of their little arrangement, she knew – Penelope did, too, but she also hid it far better.

“Very well,” she said, slipping her hand daintily through the loop. “Escort me.”

Even with five inches of heels, he still towered over her as he guided her from the entryway to the sofa – barely any distance at all, and certainly not in something one could consider a separate room – before guiding her to take a seat.

On the television, a film was already poised to play. A timeless classic, an adaptation of Jane Austen at her finest literary peak, and one Penelope had seen many times before. Scott, she had learnt last week when they had planned this encounter, had never seen it.

A rectification was tonight’s plans, at least on the film front – provided Scott paid attention to it, rather than her.

He still hadn’t looked away from her since she’d arrived. Penelope was, of course, used to being the centre of attention, but there was something so very different about that attention when it came from her beau, rather than the rest of the world. There was no judgement in Scott’s gaze, no watchfulness as the eyes waited for her to commit a faux pas, and it was both refreshing and exhilarating.

Those watchful eyes possessed by the rest of the world would be full of glee should they ever learn that she was not quite as single as she pretended to be. Very few knew that she even knew John’s older brother, let alone that they often arranged dates behind closed doors.

John, her wonderful friend, understood her desire to keep tabloid suspicions away from her love life, and usually vacated his flat for the evening so that they could have somewhere private. Tonight, he had allowed them three hours before his return, which was plenty of time to watch the film and curl up scandalously close to Scott as it played. His warm, strong arm wrapped around her shoulders firmly as she let her body lightly brush against his, pulling her in close.

An equally strong hand delicately lifted her hand from where she had let it rest on her thigh, guiding it back up to his lips and leaving a firmer kiss to the skin.

“It’s good to see you again,” he murmured, not pulling back as he spoke and leaving little breaths of air to brush the back of her hand with every word. It took all of her self-control not to physically react to it.

After all, this was another of their little games – Scott liked to see if he could crack her Lady façade, and she took great pleasure in being on the receiving end of attempt after attempt.

“It is,” she agreed, leaving her hand where it lay in his grip. “We haven’t seen each other in too long.” That was the problem with living either side of the Atlantic, although she knew his visits to England had increased since their relationship had begun.

One day, she would have to make the journey out to Kansas, but for the time being there was no reason for her to be seen doing so.

“I missed you,” he whispered to her skin, the words caressing as they skipped over. His eyes were locked on hers, despite the way he was slightly bent over in order to reach her hand, and vibrant blue peeked up past dark eyelashes.

“One would hope so,” she replied, allowing the flicker of a smile to flash through her façade. A reward for his efforts. “I must admit company has been lacking in your absence.”

“Is that aristocracy speak for ‘I missed you, too’?” Scott asked, rather cheekily. His dimples sunk deep into his cheeks as the playful grin blossomed in full bloom. She resisted the urge to press the tip of a finger into the indent, at least for now.

They were too early into tonight’s performance for that level of intimacy just yet.

“That could be an interpretation,” she allowed, finally drawing her hand back to settle in her lap. “Now, are there refreshments to go along with the film?”

“Do I count?” came the immediate answer, complete with a flash of a grin that could only be described as flirtatious, before Scott continued with a more respectable response, gesturing with the arm not around her shoulders at the coffee table. It was piled high with snacks, ranging from cutely cut sandwiches in perfect triangles to bowls full of crisps. A selection of chocolates – casual, not the high-end she was used to being served – completed the feast. “Help yourself to whatever you want,” he told her.

“Thank you, I shall.” She selected a sandwich and took a dainty bite. It was soft and just the slightest bit chilled. Bought from a shop, or even specially ordered; certainly not made by the young man sat next to her, but she didn’t mind that at all. “Now, the film?”

“Whenever you’re ready,” Scott promised her, shifting down a little on the sofa until his head wasn’t much above hers.

“I’m ready now.” With a demure gesture, she set the film to play.

It was, of course, a magnificent film. One of Penelope’s long-time favourites, she would never tire of watching it, and the alluring romantic growth of a young female aristocrat and a tall, dark and handsome suitor had featured in her daydreams many a time as a younger girl.

Her own tall, dark and handsome suitor’s attention was clearly divided throughout the film. He made a valiant attempt to watch it, but fingers trailed circular patterns on her arm and almost every time she could pull her own eyes away from the screen, it was to find those vibrant blues watching her as though it would be a crime to look away.

A lesser man might have tired of their game and made a move before the film ended, but even as the story reached its climatic peak, the most Scott had done was to lightly rest his head against hers, drawing her a little further into his hold. She’d gone willingly, the candid contact still a relatively new and exhilarating experience for her despite it remaining entirely free of inappropriate connotations.

It was as the end credits rolled that Scott made the daring leap into something a little more suggestive.

“You’ve got chocolate on your face, your Ladyship,” he told her, raising a finger to the very corner of his mouth as an indication. “Right here.”

Penelope hadn’t got food on her face since she was a very young girl at the start of her etiquette lessons, and was well aware that she had made no such mess this time, either. Still, she was willing to humour him, and raised a hand lightly to the indicated spot.

“Oh, dear,” she said. “Well, that simply won’t do. Please excuse me for a moment; I need to visit the bathroom.”

“No ne-”

Scott’s protest was interrupted by both of their phones vibrating in tandem. If it was simply one phone, they would have ignored it and carried on their charade, but both meant it could only be one person, and as their date was occurring entirely at his discretion, ignoring John would not be wise.

It was Scott’s phone they checked, and while logically Penelope knew that the film would have eaten up most of their time, it was still a shock to see how late the hour had got when the time flashed up. John’s message was simply confirmation.

I’ll be back in ten minutes. Be on your best behaviour when I get in.

Scott sighed, outwardly disappointed, and Penelope felt the same way, despite both of them knowing in advance about the arrangement. Time simply went by too fast.

“Well,” she said, “I suppose that puts an end to tonight’s advances. We shall have to continue this at a later date.”

“On the contrary,” Scott said, setting the phone aside and turning his full body to face her, “that means we have nine minutes left to play with tonight.”

She’d known he would say something along those lines; the glitter that had been present all evening had just begun to darken slightly before John’s message.

“And what could we do in nine minutes?” she asked, feigning cluelessness even though he was leaning forwards slightly, broadcasting his intent with every muscle in his body.

“I haven’t kissed you yet tonight,” came the charming American bluntness, although he softened it with a following, “may I?”

In answer, she once again presented him with her hand, which he grasped lightly and kissed the back of, dark blue eyes peering past his lashes to look up at her with a hopeful expression.

“Is that a yes?” he asked, breath caressing her skin lightly for the third time that evening. This time, she didn’t hold back her reaction, closing her eyes for a brief moment at the sensation.

“You’ve got eight and a half minutes left,” she told him by way of answer, reopening her eyes in time to see the permission register on his face in a dawn of unconcealed delight before he advanced.

In Penelope’s opinion, Scott made fantastic use of every single moment of those eight and a half minutes.

[idontknowreallywhy]

YAY! So glad Monique is still running! Virgil’s having more luck than Scott…

Under a truck out on some country road…

-o-o-o-

“John, what do you need?”

“Just checking in. You’ve been stationary in the middle of nowhere for some time now and its not like Monique has a computer I can interface with for a tech report.”

“You mean hack. My Lamborghini has not felt right since you played in her processor.”

“I needed information! You looked like you were being attacked!”

“I was being kissed, John. Clean your lenses.”

“Over the hood of your car.”

“I enjoyed it.”

“TMI, Virgil.”

-o-o-o-

[alexthefly]

::Screaming, crying, throwing up:: It hurts so muuuuuuch!!! 😭😭😭🖤💙😭😭😭

These two idiots. Both so afraid to be vulnerable, neither wanting to let their secrets show... Oh god, it's so them and so painful and so so so so good!!

I haven't slept all night, so decided to bump up this little Scayo thing (well, not-Scayo-yet thing) thing in the spirit of Love and Thunderbirds.

🖤💙

..blue, like she'd never known*

And just like that, she was in love with Scott Tracy. Which was a ridiculous place to be, really. Firstly, she'd have to get in line behind two thirds of the population of planet Earth, give or take, and a better half of the solar system missions. Scott would have that effect on people - part natural charisma, passed down through genes, part radiant charm, unique to him, but mostly dimples, of course. Scott Tracy was, on average, the best thing to ever happen to anyone in a lifetime, whether sweeping down from the sky to lend a helping hand, lifting one's spirits with genuine, well aimed words, or just training  the brilliant blue gaze with kind attention. His father had never walked into a room he hadn't commanded, but Scott was yet to leave a room he hadn't inspired. They all loved him, of course, like a flower loved the light. Soaked in his warmth and passion, they flourished.

That is not to say she didn't know he was, also, a massive idiot. It was her job to know his demons by name, to know his pain, the shadows that haunted his despair, the exact shades of guilt that colored his self-destruction. The family consensus was it was Virgil's job to ward those off. She'd be happy to chip in, prepared to throw hands with anything that could ever lung after his soul, but the shadows haunting her own were arguably deeper. And you can't fight darkness with darkness. At the end of the day, it didn't matter. When the clouds lifted - he was the Sun.

Therein lied her other problem. The sun doesn't love you back. The sun doesn't even notice you exist, most of the time. Oh, he loved them, all right, with fond amusement and sacrificial devotion. He was in equal parts admiring them all -  quaint and precious to his gaze - on the seventh day of creation, and determined to climb the nearest available crucifix. She'd rather he noticed her lipstick. Not that she wore lipstick. Not since that one mission at a charity gala - too much evidence to clean up, she honestly didn't know how Penny did it. But he didn't notice. It stung more than she cared to admit. He would die for her in a heartbeat, but wouldn't really SEE her.

He drove her mad, of course. Up the wall belligerent. With his misplaced protectiveness, freakish need to control the risks they took, the obsessive desire to take risks himself and the penance of responsibility he piled on his shoulders. She ranted and raved, and sneaked from beneath the shield he tried to impose. It was her job to keep them safe so that they could save the world. In that order. It was nary possible to guard him and to prevent a threat, being smothered in return. She'd never forgive herself if she failed. But he didn't see a fierce protector - he saw a little girl, best friends with his baby brother, a ward in his charge - one of his father's many legacies. Frustration drove her to want to scream sometimes. Sometimes she did. Their shouting matches ended up in long stretches of exasperated silence. Sometimes she took it out on him in the gym through the training sessions. No, she was not above minor revenge. After all, it was her job to make sure he could protect himself, if he wouldn't trust her to do so. She wasn't intimidated, of course, neither by his imposing hight nor the flaring temper. But she was afraid. Her fears varied from something they shared with all of his brothers- that one of these days, in his drive and dedication, and disregard, he would fly too fast, too far... and the sky would be drained of the color blue forever, leaving them all in the wake of cold shadows. Some fears were hers, and hers alone - that one day those blue eyes would fall on someone he would SEE. Someone, who wasn't her. She decided a while ago that would be her cue to leave. She loved him enough to power through flings and dates, and an occasional girlfriend she knew meant little. It was her job to know. It was her job to know when it would mean something, too. She loved him enough to let him go.

But the one fear kept her up and chased her dreams. That one day he would look at her and see HIM. The most vile and hateful excuse of a human being. Her uncle. She couldn't bear imagine the shade of revulsion and betrayal in his eyes. The ashes. The Sun could burn, but the Sun extinguished meant damnation. No more than she could bear the pain she saw etched in his features every moment of every day. Every time the specture of her uncle loomed over, haunting his grief, stirring deeper turmoil. She loved him enough to keep him in the dark.

------

* Loving Him Is Red is such a Scayo song, I can't even!

@tagloveandthunderbirds

[idontknowreallywhy]

Thunderbirds romance extends to AU too? 🥰

@tagloveandthunderbirds

WIP Wednesday: Scayo pic continued

More progress on this pic. Look! I made a background! Now Scott and Kayo are not standing in an empty white void! I'm procrastinating on doing the shadows on them because it's long and I'm not sure how to do them (trying different things in Clip Studio Paint).

I might have been inspired by this music video by Blackpink for the background:

[idontknowreallywhy]

@tagloveandthunderbirds

Hello! Firstly, thank you so much for putting the word out that you're open to requests, it is wonderful!

May I request Gordon and Penny being a cute couple? Walking hand in hand or so? Thank you again!

As promised, a cute chibi drawing of Penny and Gordan being cute, just walking around the beach- looks like someone got a little kiss from Penny too 💖

BONUS...

I also drew some older Penny and Gordan with their baby (an old kidlet oc I made years ago) little Brenna (aka: Squid jr)- isn't she adorable

These were fun to draw and I hope they were worth the wait.

[idontknowreallywhy]

*sobs excessively* that was just beautiful 🥰🥰🥰

Take My Hand

This was supposed to be a @flashfictionfridayofficial , but I was a bit late and got my timezones mixed up, and then the word count went over and... well here it is anyway.

Or read it on AO3 here.

Also tagging @tagloveandthunderbirds 'cos ❤️

Fandom: Thunderbirds/Thunderbirds are Go

Word count: 1048

Warnings: feet/shoes

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

“You ready to do this, Sweetheart?”

Lucy took her time smoothing down the front of her dress, purposely not looking at the empty dance floor yawning in front of her.

“Are you? You know dancing isn't exactly my forte; a first dance in front of all these people just seems like asking for trouble." She shuffled in her chair. "Are trampled feet covered by the wedding insurance?”

Jeff snickered. “I checked the policy just before I came over here. We’re all set.”

“Okay, if you’re sure. But I’m wearing heels, don't forget; it's going to be like Bambi on Ice out there.”

He shrugged. 

“Well I did suggest the hiking boots instead, but you shot me down; something about ‘the aesthetic’. Which looks stunning on you, by the way.” 

He stood back to better take her in, grinning appreciatively.

“Last time I make that mistake,” she muttered, waving away the compliment. “Given ‘the aesthetic’ is currently cutting off the circulation to my pinkie toe, respectfully ‘the aesthetic’ can go jump in a lake.”

She mentally cursed the salesperson who’d talked her into putting fashion ahead of comfort.

Concern flashed across Jeff’s handsome face. “Are they really hurting you, honey? We can get you other shoes.”

She smiled up at him reassuringly. “No really, I’m exaggerating …sort of. They just kinda pinch, that's all.”

If she was totally honest with herself, it wasn't even the salesperson’s fault, really. She’d been the one chasing a dream of being perfect and ladylike, even if it was only this once. Dammit, why was dressing up fancy so hard?!

Of course it didn't help that her new husband managed it so effortlessly. He was currently working ‘the aesthetic’ to within an inch of its life, cutting a very dashing figure in his elegant new grey suit and tie, dress shirt and shoes all perfectly matched and filled out perfectly.

Seriously, where did he get off being so good-looking? 

She’d just wanted to appear worthy of him, that’s all. Jeff Tracy: ace pilot, hometown hero, handsomest guy in the county and a genuinely good man to boot. He was the prince, and just once she’d wanted to feel like she could be his match - a princess - instead of some awkward, clutzy science nerd who’d somehow managed to win the husband lottery.

She sighed. Clearly that wasn't to be.

There was a pause, then without another word her very handsome husband - God, he really did look good in that suit - knelt down in front of her and took one of her feet gently in his hands. He examined the delicate and uncharacteristically high-heeled white shoe with utmost seriousness, before removing it and flinging it across the room.

“Jeff!”

Lucy felt her face burst into flames as a roomful of eyes turned towards them.

“What? Doesn't that feel better?”

In all fairness it absolutely did. She wiggled her newly-released toes appreciatively even as she fought the urge to hide underneath the table.

“You can't just go throwing shoes around. You’re making a scene.”

He stopped and looked at her, ignoring the rest of the room, then slowly and deliberately reached out and took hold of her other foot.

“I want to enjoy a dance with my beautiful new wife, and if these admittedly pretty little shoes are getting in the way of that…” 

The second shoe flew over his shoulder, just missing a nearby waiter.

“...then they’ve gotta go.”

The room was hushed; everyone was looking at them. Part of her wanted to run and hide in the coatroom until they’d all gone, but he was holding her gaze, keeping her steady. 

“I don't want anything getting between me and the most amazing, beautiful, perfect person I ever saw, ever again.”

He rose gracefully to his feet and held out his hand to her.

“So how about it? May I have this dance?”

…

It was late spring and the cicadas were singing. Airbase staff were bustling all around, knocking into her, sending papers flying everywhere. She knelt down to pick them up, and suddenly there was a hand in front of her.

“Can I give you a hand, Miss?”

…

It was fall, and the trees around them were every shade of red. They’d talked about everything and nothing, walking side by side, until he stopped and reached out to her.

“Would it be alright if I held your hand?”

…

It was winter and the snow was falling softly. His ice skates made long swooshing noises on the ice around her, while hers clacked noisily as she tried and failed to keep her footing. Another swoosh and then he was there in front of her, hand extended.

“Okay, so not my best idea. How about we go get a hot chocolate instead? My treat?”

…

It was the last days of summer, and the clear water of the lake lapped at her toes. She’d never felt so happy in her life. A perfect day. Beside her she felt him shift nervously, and then he was holding his hand out, a little red box in it, one knee on the ground.

“I’ve got a question I wanna ask…”

…

Her head flooded with the memories of a hundred moments, small and huge, all of them important. A hundred images of him offering his hand, and at last she understood.

He'd reached out for her.

She was the one. And she was worthy, just as she was.

Smiling, she accepted the offered hand.

“Of course you may, Mr Tracy.”

He grinned and bowed. “Why thankyou, Mrs Tracy.”

She rose and he led her, barefoot and spotlit, to the dance floor without a care in the world. Keeping her hand in his, he wrapped his other arm around her waist, enveloping her like a delicate, precious treasure, safe and protected. Their eyes met and he beamed at her like his face was made of actual sunshine.

She grinned back at him.

“You’re sure about that wedding insurance now? Last chance.”

“Don’t you worry about my toes, darlin’. Just keep a hold of me and we’ll do fine.”

And with that the band struck up an old favourite, and hand-in-hand they danced the night away.

Take my hand

Take my whole life too

For I can't help falling in love with you.

[idontknowreallywhy]

😂

oh poor Scotty!! *waves leaflet and demands free coffee*

“Girl, the only thing i’d change about you is your last name~”

tagging all Scotty fans: @olliepig, @tsarinatorment, @fallenfurther, @flyboytracy, @lunalittlemiss, @janetm74, @sugar-fiend, @dragonoffantasyandreality, @angelofbenignmalevolence, @hironojp, @issychatter, @n-chu4ever, @thunderbird-one-ai, @iminiminah, @that-tag-nerd51, @scribbles97, @malignedangel, @sweet-christabel, @liseylou, @katblu42, sorry if i haven’t tagged all of you! + some close moots such as @louthestarspeaker @nourelle-tracy @cookidoughlilac

~

Scott appeared from the living room still wearing his IR suit, not even bothering to change back into his civilian clothes, and walked quickly to the kitchen where everyone was dining. At first glance it seemed that he had just returned from a rescue, except for the fact that he was seething. Of course, usually Scott, as well as the other boys, would come back from a rescue tired and exhausted, sometimes irritated too if who they had to save was particularly...difficult, but they were never angry.

But when Scott slammed his hand on the table, briefly drawing everyone’s attention, you could see it on his face that he was nervous.

"What would this be?" he asked, his voice dangerously low. Dangerously because it either meant that the situation was serious, or that Scott was exaggerating, making it look like it was.

Gordon briefly looked up from his plate. "This being what?"

Scott looked down, toward his hand that covered what he wanted the others to see. Snorting, he removed his hand, revealing... a paper sheet; there seemed to be something drawn on it.

"Oh!" Gordon said, smiling. "Do you like it?"

"I knew it was your doing! Do you have sawdust in that brain of yours?" Strange, no one seemed to get curious and lean over to see what it was about. Could it be...? "My private comms rang off uninterruptedly with non-stop calls and messages!"

"Well, be grateful that I left your private line, so that people didn’t occupy the International Rescue one."

"In that case, I would be the one to receive non-stop calls and texts." John interfered, nibbling on a bagel.

Scott looked at him one second too many. "When did you get down here?"

"About an hour ago." John had this strange face, he seemed to stifle a grin. Or he was hiding it under his bagel.

"Anyway, I don’t hear any noise, no notifications, nothing. Aren’t you lying?" Alan pointed out, crossing his arms around his chest with a sly grin. "Don’t tell me you didn’t get any girl’s attention!" After that addition there was a chain of giggles that started from Alan and spread all the way over to Grandma.

"On the contrary." He replied half-proud but also half-annoyed, pulling out his iconic blue shirt; one of the buttons on his wrist continued to light on and off with every notification that arrived. "As you can see, I get too much attention, I just silenced my comms. How did you-?" He didn’t even have to finish his sentence, because John was watching him again, now without hiding a smile himself.

"Well, cheer up bro!" Gordon took Scott’s thinking break to resume the conversation. "Your birthday is approaching, so you will receive many wishes from everyone!"

"But you could have avoided the comms open 24/7, this thing doesn’t even stop when I’m in the bathroom, without the need to tell you what I'm doing in there." At Scott’s response Kayo made a small grimace, though she was accustomed to hearing these things, while the tinies were laughing silently, that vibrating torso type of laugh, and slapping the table lightly and repeatedly; Alan in particular was about to choke on the bite he hadn’t swallowed yet.

"Careful, Scott! You don’t want to express yourself with such colorful language with the ladies!" Grandma jokingly rebuked him. "Who knows what impression you’ll make on the poor fellas..."

"So you’re telling me that with all the times you’ve flown by it, you’re just now noticing it?" Virgil asked, smiling.

Scott facepalmed, sighing and snorting at the same time. "I woke up with this infernal noise, and I thought there was a rescue to be done, so without seeing who it was, as the line is private-" with that addition he turned to Gordon. "- I answered. I had to get out of the damn bed to go check out the damn billboard." That’s why Scott was so upset: he had a rescue that kept him out of bed all night, and just when he came back for lunch and took an afternoon nap, he was disturbed. Gordon grinned evilly.

"Wait." Scott remembered Virgil’s question. "How long has that billboard been there?" His voice returned low and calm again.

Virgil stopped looking at his brother, focusing his attention on his plate.

"Ah, so you made a girl hear your sexy, powerful, bed voice! What a chance!" This day has just become a tease Scott Tracy day and Gordon was its founder; the others were too busy laughing to say anything.

"I can’t believe you all united for this amazing prank, good job you guys." Scott crossed his arms to his chest, visibly offended and sarcastic. "Which one of you should I blame the most?"

Gordon stood up at that last question, beaming. "Oh, I’m glad you asked!" Then he pulled out a holo list. "So, let’s see...Alan and I had the idea, John took care of the qr code and the link to your private line, and Kayo took care of the design! That love you is awesome."

"Thank you!" Kayo smiled at him.

"You forgot about me." Virgil corrected him.

"And me." Brains followed.

"Ah, sorry..." Gordon checked the list again, as Scott looked at the duo with a distraught expression. He understood Virgil doing this, but not Brains. Why would Brains do this to him? "Here we go, here we go. Brains offered to test the upgraded version of Thunderbird 1's drones, taking them on a fly test around the world to hand out fliers."

"Fliers?" Scott tried to interrupt him.

"And Virgil mentioned in those a free coffee date with you; you’re the one offering, of course."

"Free coffee?" Scott repeated this word too, now dumbfounded.

Gordon looked at him as if to say, what are you, a parrot? "Well, you see...this is called revenge."

"It’s revenge." Virgil repeated, high-fiving with Gordon.

"Revenge...?" Scott repeated, trying to remember. "What did I do this time?"

"Do you remember that time you painted my face while I was sleeping, and then you pulled me out of bed and made me dress up without even looking in the mirror because Penny was in the living room? That's it! You forgot to tell me Penny was in the living room!"

"No, I can assure you that I have not forgotten." Scott snickered, teasing the pufferfish.

"Eh, I didn’t forget either if this is the case. Enjoy your ladies." After that sentence, almost conveniently, the comm sounded once again, only this time it wasn't coming from his shirt.

"Oh no, not again!" Scott yelled, letting go of some curses under his breath too. Luckily Grandma didn’t seem to notice as she was answering the comms to see who it was; it was Penelope and she was smiling too.

“Scott! I was looking for you!”

"Let me guess, you saw what happened." Now that he noticed, Scott was still in his suit. It was starting to pinch his skin.

"Yes, that’s why I was looking for you."

Scott raised an eyebrow. "Hm?"

Penny raised a flier into sight, smiling. "Is the offer also valid for a cup of tea? Iced tea, perhaps?"

Scott squinted his eyes. Grandma turned to Gordon. "Gordon... run to my signal."

"Sure, it’s available for all drinks!" Virgil answered Penny’s question, chuckling. This episode would not be easily forgotten.

Grandma's signal wasn't needed as Gordon started running before she could give it, his killer squid sense kicking in; it was correct, as after he started running Scott was quickly after him.

[idontknowreallywhy]

BEST CLOSING LINE EVER!!!

*head explodes*

All gorgeous. Perfect. Gotta do work. More later.

Aaaaaah

🍎💚🍎💚🍎💚🍎💚🍎💚🍎💚🍎💚🍎💚

Along the Way (Part 7 and The End)

Sweetapple | Dear Mr Tracy | Along the way - Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

It's finished! ::runs around the room like a loon:: Though I have to say that I doubt this will be the last we see of Mr Sweetapple as there are several threads that need a good neat tie up :D

All the wonderful thanks to @onereyofstarlight for staying up extra late and answering my poke across the Tasman Sea for a last minute read. I hope Alex gives you some nice sleep ::hugs tight::

Also, special thanks to all of you for supporting my geeky fanboy Alex :D There will be more as someone sent me some OC asks about Alex and I've realised that the only way I can answer them is by writing fic. (some other OCs of mine might pop up in fic at some point,too, for that exact same reason) ::so many hugs to all of you for being so kind to me::

But anyway, I will stop my excited rambling and present you with the last chapter of this fic....which has taken so long to write - so many apologies. Though I am excited that I'm writing again :D

I hope you enjoy this :D

-o-o-o-

Alexander Sweetapple’s head was spinning.

Not so much from the concussion he had no doubt he had, thank you, Mr Holographic Scott Tracy, but more from the fact that Virgil had just kissed him.

Not Mr Virgil Tracy, Head of Research and Development at Tracy Industries, no….more ‘ohmigod, I finally found you and you’re alive, I want to hug and kiss your brains out’ Virgil Tracy.

The man was covered in concrete dust and grime, there was more grey than blue on his uniform bar the scratched patches where his now discarded exosuit had sat.

Alex had proof Virgil had hugged him via all the dusty patches on his damp clothes, on his arms, and in his hair.

Virgil Tracy had hugged and kissed him.

For real.

Alex stood beside his mum while Virgil assessed the condition of her ankle and she went about embarrassing her son every way possible.

To be honest, it had been such a day that she was welcome to show Virgil Alex’s naked baby pictures for all he cared. She was safe and that was all important.

A glance over at the remains of the museum building prompted his heart to add a few extra beats per minute to its routine.

Alex let his jaw drop as he watched the roof float away.

Oh god.

“Alex?”

Virgil’s voice was so rich and deep.

“Alex?” And then Virgil grabbed him. Was he trying to hug him again. That would be nice. “Whoa! I think you need to sit down.”

Okay.

He folded himself smoothly down onto the pavement beside his mum.

“Hey, honey, look at me.” Her fingers were suddenly in his hair. “Allie, how the hell did you do all that with a head injury?” She peered closely at him. “Virgil, what do your scanners say?”

And yes, Virgil was waving a yellow light over Alex. “Concussion, bruising…” He frowned. “You’re both wet. You’ve been in the river?”

“Nearly drowned. My foot got stuck and Allie pulled me out. Some water, possibly sewage, may have been inhaled. My recommendation is to watch for symptoms of infection. In both of us.” Dr Sweetapple was in the house.

He turned to Virgil only to find his friend’s eyebrows fully deployed.

They were very nice eyebrows.

Virgil caught his stare. “Thunderbird One, I need to leave the danger zone. Ten minutes there and back for patient transport.”

“FAB, Thunderbird Two. Make it quick, we need your help in the industrial sector.” A pause. “How’s Alex?”

“Concussion, but well enough…and safe.” Virgil still had his eyes.

“Good to hear. Thunderbird One out.”

“What are you doing, Virgil?” The words slipped out without thought.

Virgil looked down at his wrist control poking it. “You both need medical supervision. I’m providing it for you.”

A good hundred metres away, Thunderbird Two rose up on her struts and her module door slid smoothly open. Two hoverstretchers darted out across the road, gliding around obstacles until they reached Virgil’s side. He pulled out a control surface and reconfigured them into hoverchairs. “Sorry to rush this, but time is short. Alex, stay put while I help your mother.” He held up a gloved hand and Alex was forced to settle back and obey.

Besides, the world was spinning again, and after all, Virgil was technically his boss.

He let his head fall into his hand and closed his eyes, suddenly ever so tired.

So this was what an adrenalin drop felt like.

Ugh.

“Alex?” Virgil’s voice was soft and his gloved hand gentle on his arm. That was really nice. “Alex? You with me?”

He blinked. Oh. “Yeah.”

“Let’s get you up.” Virgil nudged him, both hands holding his arms to steady him.

The world wobbled, but a few steps and Virgil had him snug and safe, strapped into the hover stretcher…chair…whatever the hell it was.

Virgil was running, Alex and his mother beside him, until they were all swallowed by the green of Thunderbird Two.

At some point, Virgil must has triggered the chair back into a bed because Alex was lying down and Virgil hovering over him, once again with a scanner flickering yellow light. “You can go to sleep, Alex. You’re okay and you’re safe.” A gloved hand gently brushed away the hair from Alex’s forehead. He knew this should mean something, but he was so tired.

Thunderbird green danced as his eyelids drifted closed.

Somewhere something was roaring just like a Thunderbird launching, but he had no energy to care.

-o-o-o-

Jeff stepped into the elevator only to almost collide with his mother. “Mom?”

“I’m meeting Thunderbird Two.”

“Why?” Was Virgil hurt? Why hadn’t John told him?

A hand on his arm quelled the sudden panic. “Virgil is fine. We have visitors.”

“Who?” Did he have to draw the information out bit by bit?

“Do you remember Alexander Sweetapple?”

“Of course, I do. Gordon thinks Virgil might be…interested.”

“He is.” She held up a finger so close to Jeff’s face, his eyes crossed. “And you are not going to say a thing. Yes, he’s breaking protocol, but he has good reason.” She looked away and let her finger drop. “The poor boy has been terrified all day. Thank god, they finally found Alex. And I don’t blame him for not wanting to let him out of his sight.” His mother stared up at Jeff with all the fire he knew she possessed. “Your son is bringing home his first romantic interest ever and you are not going to spout security blather all over him. This is our house and we can have guests. Especially important guests.”

Jeff took a step back. “I wasn’t going to say anything!” Virgil was bringing home Alex? As a love interest? “What the hell happened?” He really needed to speak to John about keeping him updated. He knew his orbiting son was selective, but this was ridiculous.

The elevator doors opened and his mother glared at him. “Something good. Don’t ruin it.” She stomped off into Two’s hangar, detouring into the medical supply cupboard on the way, just as the hangar doors started their opening sequence.

Jeff stepped cautiously out of the elevator. He had no idea what warranted his mother’s ire. Okay, maybe he had had some words with his eldest at one point, but that was nearly a decade ago.

His priorities were a little different these days.

Two roared in, a little faster than the norm. Virgil was obviously in a hurry. She spun on her turntable and the moment she settled, her forward hatch was lowered, Virgil standing between two hoverchairs.

Jeff hurried after his mother, cursing his cane, as Virgil strode with the two chairs towards them.

“Grandma, this is Doctor Lolly Sweetapple. Doctor Sweetapple, this is my grandmother, Doctor Sally Tracy, she and my father will be taking over your care.”

The two doctors exchanged greetings and slipped into medical babble two seconds later.

“Dad?” Virgil gestured him over. “You remember Alex?” Why was there so much hesitation in his son’s voice?

“Certainly, the creator of Siliwrap.” The man was obviously asleep. “How is he?”

“Concussion, bruising, he and his mother need monitoring for possible lung infection. They were caught in contaminated water.” His son swallowed; his expression hesitant. “I wanted them here, Dad. Grandma has the skills and the tools.” He looked away. “I just couldn’t leave them to the system.” His eyes fell on Alex and Jeff’s heart clenched.

“We will look after them.” He dropped a consoling hand to his son’s shoulder.

Vulnerable eyes looked up at him. “Thanks, Dad.” His hand was squeezed and Virgil was again moving. This time running back to his ‘bird.

His mother immediately took over and bustled them all into the elevator before they could acquire new coiffures a’la rocket engine.

As the doors closed, Thunderbird Two accelerated out on to her runway and the elevator shaft roared as she took to the sky.

-o-o-o-

Alex rolled over in bed and sighed into his pillow. He was extremely comfortable. Temperature was perfect. Pillow was soft. “Mmmmm….”

“About time you woke up, Allie. You were starting to worry me.” His mother’s voice was always reassuring.

“He’s fine, Lolly. Concussion is healing and there is no sign of any lung infection. See, look at the scans.”

Alex frowned. That was a female voice he didn’t recognise. Also, why was his mum in his bedroom?

“You’re giving me equipment envy, Sally. My god, the science behind this is amazing.”

“Virgil has them in development, don’t you worry. A good percentage of our breakthroughs do get filtered down into the market. Unfortunately, there is a difference between the ability to make a device for International Rescue and making devices in efficient, ecological and economic mass production. Our teams do their best.” A snort. “And your boy is part of that team. His devotion to Siliwrap is all to his credit. Alex is saving lives as much, if not more, as any at Tracy industries. You should be proud.”

“Oh, that’s a given. He’s always been a little obsessive, especially regarding the Thunderbirds.”

Wha-?

Alex flung his eyes open to find his mother lying on a bed beside him, smiling. She had her ankle wrapped and raised and was obviously talking to the owner of the other voice, an older lady dressed in a purple jumpsuit.

Both were smiling at him.

“Where am I?”

Yes, that’s the first question out of any alien abductee’s mouth, no doubt about it.

“You’re on Tracy Island, Alex. You and your mother are safe and our guests.” When Alex didn’t respond as his brain automatically overloaded. “I’m Mrs Tracy, Virgil’s grandmother.”

“Watch it, Sally, he may combust on the spot.”

Thanks, mum.

His mother was grinning at him. “I swear he’s been looking for the location of this island since he discovered his first Thunderbird.”

“Mum!”

“Shhh! You’ll wake him up.” His mum was pointing behind him.

“Lolly, don’t worry, Virgil sleeps like the dead. Especially after a rescue like that.”

Virgil? What?

He twisted around and found a third bed behind him. Virgil lay sprawled face down on it, snoring softly into his pillow.

“Don’t worry, honey. He’s just tired. Our boys exhaust themselves and then wonder why their bodies shut down.”

It was only then all the events leading up to his current situation fully loaded into his brain.

Virgil.

Virgil had kissed him. His chocolate eyes held such relief and joy…

The scene played back in his head over and over, declaring that it had happened. That something Alex may have dreamed about but never really considered actually possible, had happened.

He stared at Virgil.

Gone was the uniform and in its place a simple black t-shirt outlining a lax bicep hanging off the edge of the bed. Alex’s eyes tracked down the length of Virgil’s arm to his hand.

Such strong hands.

The emergency responder had a blanket draped over him, obviously placed there after the advent of slumber, likely by his purple grandmother.

“Why is he here?”

Mrs Tracy walked around Alex’s bed so she could face him. “Now, don’t you start worrying your head off, young man. He is fine. He’s in the bed because otherwise he’d be asleep in a chair and that is not acceptable self-care. He wanted to stay here with you and it was the bed or out. Exhaustion did the rest.”

He stared at her a moment, his thoughts spinning.

“How are you feeling, Allie?”

Huh? He turned back to his mother. “Mum, your ankle…”

She waved him off. “Hon, I’ve done worse tripping over kids in the waiting room. Nothing to worry about.” She frowned at him. “How’s your head?”

How was his head? How was he in general?

There were aches, yes, now that attention had been drawn to them, but generally, considering that he’d just been through a major disaster, he felt okay. “I’m okay.”

His eyes drifted back to Virgil.

“Don’t you think of getting out of bed just so you can sit at his bedside, Alex. I know how you boys think, so don’t think you can pull one over on me.” Virgil’s grandmother was proving to be as bad as Alex’s mother.

“Don’t worry, Sally, he’s been very well trained from birth.”

“How did you manage that? I’ve been trying for nearly thirty years with the grandkids. Their father is just as bad.”

Alex’s eyes widened. Their father? Jeff Tracy. The Jeff Tracy who gave his name to Tracy Island. That Tracy Island that was ever so secret and Alex was currently resting his butt on. Well, the bed his was resting his butt on was on the Island. It was simple transference of molecular ownership.

Perhaps this was not the best moment to realise that he was wearing a black t-shirt very similar to Virgil’s and that it was not one he owned, nor was it one he was wearing the last time he was aware and conscious.

He pulled up the blanket and found black shorts. “Where are my clothes?” Perhaps the step up in octave was a little ridiculous on his part, but it had been a very stressful day.

“Your clothes were ruined, Allie. Jeff and Mrs Tracy were kind enough to supply and dress you in some replacements.” His mother was ever so matter-of-fact, as usual.

“Jeff Tracy saw me naked?!”

Okay, he had to admit, that was supposed to be inner voice and not shouted at the top of his lungs. In any case, it proved that it was possible to wake up Virgil Tracy, no matter what his grandmother said.

“Alex? What?”

He turned to find Virgil pushing himself up off the bed, hair sticking in all directions, obviously still half asleep.

“Honey, the man brought up five boys. One more is nothing new.” Mrs Tracy was as matter-of-fact as his mother.

Great. A team up.

“Virgil, go back to sleep.” Mrs Tracy bustled over to her grandson and attempted to get him to lie down.

But Virgil had caught sight of Alex. “Alex! You’re awake!”

Mrs Tracy actually rolled her eyes as Virgil threw off his covers and climbed out of bed. He closed the distance between them on bare feet. “Hey, how are you feeling?”

Alex couldn’t help it. “You look adorable.” Because he did. Big tough rescue operative with puffy eyes and hair sticking up all over the place, not to mention the black t-shirt and shorts that hid absolutely zero anatomical detail. And above all, he was smiling, as if ever so happy to see Alex…which was some kind of miracle and honestly how hard had he hit is head?

“You’re not bad yourself.” That smile turned to one of appreciation.

What?

His mother did mention a concussion…

“Okay, it’s obvious Virgil is not going to listen to his doctor’s advice, so Lolly and I will leave you two boys alone.” Mrs Tracy poked at his mum’s bed and it detached from the wall, hovering quite happily and easily nudged out of the room.

“Allie, take it easy, love. You are recovering from a concussion, after all.”

Yeah, yeah, mum, whatever. Virgil’s eyes were such a beautiful shade of brown.

Both women muttered to each other as they left the room, closing the door behind them.

Virgil was poking Alex’s bed controls with his fingers. “Good. You’ve rested.” His eyes were tracking over medical readouts. Alex’s medical readouts.

“I’m okay, Virgil.”

The man looked up at him again. “Good.”

Alex frowned as Virgil lifted a hand up and gently brushed Alex’s hair clear of his left temple and the abrasion there. “Grandma’s treated you well.”

Alex wanted to fall into that gentle touch. His eyes may have at least partially closed.

“Are we okay?”

Alex’s eyes snapped open.

“I mean…” Those eyes looked down and away. No, come back! “…we haven’t talked about-“

Alex was suddenly kissing Virgil. There had been space between them, but now it was gone, Alex had his arms around those truly magnificent biceps, and startled lips were pressed up against his, ever so warm, and god, Virgil was kissing him back…

There was a brain whiteout for a moment as Virgil’s arms returned Alex’s eager embrace…and then Virgil’s tongue was in his mouth and…

“Whoa! My bad.”

Alex pulled back.

“No! No, you two just keep doin’ what you were doin’ and I’ll just put this coffee down and-“

“Gordon, what do you want?” Virgil hadn’t let go of Alex, but his head did turn towards his brother.

Alex was busy dying on the spot. Why did he do that? Kiss Virgil? Him?

“I brought you coffee! You know, life blood and all that.” Coffee? “Uh, you might want to get back to that tonsil hockey you were playing. Alex looks like he’s might dump you for the coffee.”

“Go away, Gordon.”

“Going away, leaving, like a tree. Happy for both of you. ‘Bout time, Virg.”

“Gordon!”

“I’m gone!” And he was, the door sliding shut behind him.

Virgil turned back to Alex. “Sorry about that.” A slight shrug. “I have brothers.”

Alex blinked. “I have sisters.”

Virgil’s smile was a sight to behold. “So, we’re okay?”

Alex had had a very hard day, his head was a bit of a mess and there were several truths he was ignoring to keep his sanity. But right now?

He tugged Virgil closer. “More than okay.”

“You want some coffee?”

But Virgil’s lips were brushing his and… “No, I’m good.”

The coffee went cold.

-o-o-o-

FIN

[shirubie]

Slight modification to the event procedure: Since Tumblr doesn't show reblogs in the tags, I created a side blog to keep track of all the posts. Please tag your posts to @tagloveandthunderbirds.

Thanks to @idontknowreallywhy for bringing up the issue!

Romance Showcase Event: TAG: Love & Thunderbirds

Calling all romance fans of the TAG fandom! Love is in the air (and in space, and underwater...)!

This event is to showcase stories and art, old and new, that has romantic love as it's main theme. Want warm and fuzzy cuddles, awkward crushes or burning passion? You'll find it here!

To participate, post or reblog and use the tag #TAG:Love&Thunderbirds. Doesn't have to be your own stuff, you can link to works you like and want to share with the fandom. Just make sure to credit the original creator (no reposting please).

I'm not planning a specific start or end date for this event, so there's no deadline, you can post whenever you want.

A few ground rules:

-All ships are welcomed, even OC ships, as long as the story is centered on romance. Respect other people's ships even if they're not ones you like. Don't forget to tag your ships so that people can find/avoid them (everyone wins that way!)

-Please tag/warn for any adult or triggering content.

-Please credit the artists if you are not the creator of the work.

This is my first time starting an event, I hope to do a good job. If you have any suggestions you can send me a message.

Have fun everyone!

[idontknowreallywhy]

🥰

Romance Showcase Event: TAG: Love & Thunderbirds

Calling all romance fans of the TAG fandom! Love is in the air (and in space, and underwater...)!

This event is to showcase stories and art, old and new, that has romantic love as it's main theme. Want warm and fuzzy cuddles, awkward crushes or burning passion? You'll find it here!

To participate, post or reblog and use the tag #TAG:Love&Thunderbirds. Doesn't have to be your own stuff, you can link to works you like and want to share with the fandom. Just make sure to credit the original creator (no reposting please).

I'm not planning a specific start or end date for this event, so there's no deadline, you can post whenever you want.

A few ground rules:

-All ships are welcomed, even OC ships, as long as the story is centered on romance. Respect other people's ships even if they're not ones you like. Don't forget to tag your ships so that people can find/avoid them (everyone wins that way!)

-Please tag/warn for any adult or triggering content.

-Please credit the artists if you are not the creator of the work.

This is my first time starting an event, I hope to do a good job. If you have any suggestions you can send me a message.

Have fun everyone!

[tagloveandthunderbirds]

Sure! AUs are absolutely welcomed!

WIP Wednesday: Scayo pic continued

More progress on this pic. Look! I made a background! Now Scott and Kayo are not standing in an empty white void! I'm procrastinating on doing the shadows on them because it's long and I'm not sure how to do them (trying different things in Clip Studio Paint).

I might have been inspired by this music video by Blackpink for the background: