#john casey fanfic

[malevolent-muse]

⛊🧞‍♂️⛊

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[deep-sea-gigantinism]

x-files and chuck crossover fic when⁉️

[catgirlweed]

the next chapter of junestuck is coming along at a snails pace but it is coming... heres some unused stuff from it :3

[electrictoes]

The SVU Summer Hiatus Bingo 2023 starts on Friday 19th May and ends on the date of the season 25 premiere - Thursday 18th January.

Anyone who wants to participate can, any character, any ship - completely open and up to you. It’s supposed to be fun, and there’s absolutely no pressure - complete the whole grid, complete a line or two for bingo, or just select scattered prompts that inspire you! The DUN DUN square is a free square.

If the prompts inspire any non-fic content then that’s fine too! Tag SVU Summer Bingo on tumblr, and for those posting to AO3 the collection is here.

[ambear9]

The last chapter of my June Sterek fic is coming I promise! My mental health hasn't been great so finding motivation is hard. But it's almost done.

Not sure there will be a July fic, maybe i should take a little break.

Speaking of break, i still love Chuck/Casey soooo much but i feel like after 115+ fics about them I've hit a wall with what to write next. So if you have any ideas LMK. But for now I'm just gonna focus on updating all the old ones with messed up formatting.

Thanks everyone for the continued support. It means more to me than you'll ever know 🫶

[darkestwolfx]

It's a Long Story about the Topiary

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

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

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

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

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

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

Words:  6226

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You could’ve never gone…

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

That was no longer worth torturing themselves with.

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

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

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

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

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

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

------

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

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

Only those years had existed for him.

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

He felt it now keenly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

------

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

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

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

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

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

The sixth voice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Gardener?’

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

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

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

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

‘Right…’

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

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

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

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

‘Mr Tracy. Ned Tedford.’

‘Yes, you said.’

‘Oh, yes, I did, didn’t I.’

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

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

‘This is Gladys.’

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

‘A geranium?’

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

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

‘Travelled?’

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

‘Like, boys?’

‘You know,’ Alan continued, ‘Space.’

‘Underwater.’ Gordon added.

Virgil nodded. ‘The military.’

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

‘The North Pole.’ John contributed.

‘And back to space!’ Alan finished.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Scott, keep your hands off!’

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

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

Jeff blinked again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No, that much he did remember.

------

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

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

Yes, Gloria and family indeed.

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

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

------

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

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

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

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

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

They’d never given up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘We know, Ned.’ John reassured.

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

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

‘Don’t jinx it, Alan!’

‘I’m just saying Gordon–’

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Why is it always me!’

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

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

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

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

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

‘Um, I count Two.’

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

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

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

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

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

‘EOS is good, thank you.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Well–’

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

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

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

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

‘International Gardening Services!’

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

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

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

‘Yeah, before any more plant murders happened.’

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

‘Oh, it’s been an absolute honour–’

If he spoke to the plant–

‘– Isn’t that right, Gladys?’

–that was it!

------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Was it that bad?’ He asked.

John shrugged. ‘We never took a photo.’

‘I knew we should have!’ Alan moaned.

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

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

‘What? The results of your murder scene?’

‘Gordon I am serious about the Geraniums!’

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

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

‘Scott.’ John cautioned.

‘What? I didn’t start it!’

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

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

‘Mine is the best!’

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

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

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

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

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

It left him more than a little speechless.

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

Jeff blinked again but the sight didn’t change.

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

Goodness help him.

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

‘They’re very good son.’

‘We each made our own Thunderbirds!’

‘They’re all good, Gordon.’

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

‘Oh, I couldn’t possibly, Alan.’

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

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

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

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

‘It was smaller than this!’

‘It was still topiary.’

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

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

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

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

‘I’ll hold you to that, dad.’

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

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

[tracybirds]

whoops, one more Christmas fic :D I did say I'd been writing a lot of them! Those of us who helped prep the thunderpride event decided to do a small gift exchange of our own and this one is a gift for @amistrio with lots of love and happiness. Wishing you a very joyous end of the year, and time to be with those you love even if you're not able to celebrate in the same place <3 So glad we got the opportunity to become better friends this year!

Grandma and Brains

“Well, Brains, it’s just you and me for dinner again,” announced Grandma. “And are you ever gonna stop working, kid? It’s Christmas.”

Brains put down his tools, blinking slowly as he looked around. Materials were strewn across every surface; wires and strips of metal alloys piled next to sheets of experimental polymers and dozens upon dozens of computing components.

“Did the siren g-go off again?” he asked, with faint surprise. “Am I needed at all?”

Grandma shook her head. “Alan and Kayo launched an hour ago, John’s got his eyes on them. But the day doesn’t stop just because someone needs help, and you and I have a feast to attend.”

He nodded, pausing to make some notes on his tablet, then rose to his feet.

“I’ll join you in a m-moment,” he assured her. “Let m-me just wash up and be there in a few m-minutes.”

Grandma Tracy narrowed her eyes. “Do you promise? Only last time I left you, it was an entire hour because you’d suddenly thought of ‘one more thing’ and then it turned out to be several ‘one more things’.”

“I promise.”

Satisfied, Grandma left and made her own way upstairs. The elevator seemed to drag, time slowing to a crawl around her, as though the doors knew she didn’t want them to open on an empty dining table.

Every year, she privately hoped things would be different, and every year she set the table for a full house only to share a meal for three. Only now it was just the two of them.

Young branches, cut from the trees on the island, lined the centre of the table with greenery and pops of red flowers. The candles rose high above them, reaching up to the hanging ceiling lampshades. The food was set out, ready for a family who couldn’t make it; ham and roasted potatoes and green beans and the family’s favourite couscous salad. The paper napkins had been chosen for Gordon, knowing he’d get a kick out of the silly Christmas jokes that framed them, and she smiled gently up at the framed photo of Jeff and Lucille that hung at the head of the table.

“They’ll be home soon,” she told them, swallowing back a hard lump in her throat.

The door opened and she hurriedly blinked back her tears.

“It looks lovely, M-Mrs Tracy.”

She smiled at Brains, and sat in her usual seat. He sat beside her, silence spreading between them as they served themselves with little ceremony. MAX whirred around the room, lighting the candles and carving the gleaming turkey, his beeps and whistles occasionally answered by Brains.

She couldn’t help but feel more than a little let down. The dinner was nothing like the normal vibrancy of living on the island, and without her family around, the meal tasted as though it might as well have been made from clouds.

She cleared her throat, startling Brains from his thoughts, not even sure herself of what she wanted to say.

“I hope the mission goes well.”

Brains nodded next to her. “I’m sure they’ll b-be okay,” he said. “They usually are.”

“They are.” She pushed around the peas on her plate with the fork, then sighed. “I know it’s worth it, but I wish they were here all the same.”

“I know, and I’m sure they’d rather b-be here–”

Grandma Tracy shook her head, cutting him off. “Given the same circumstances and the same choice, they’d rather be there,” she corrected him. “And Lord knows I’m proud of them, and I know they’ve chosen right, but what I’m wishing for is a change in circumstance.”

Brains didn’t seem to know what to say, and Grandma Tracy recalled an argument she’d once had with Grant, accusing him of putting his livelihood over his family. How she’d had the same argument with Jeff years later.

She couldn’t argue like she used to, not when she knew what her boys did for others every day.

“They would have it any other way, and nor would I,” she told him. “Neither would you.”

“Of course n-not,” he said.

“Come along.” She patted Brains’ hand and stood. “Gordon told me there was a surprise waiting for us if they weren’t home for dinner.”

“A n-nice surprise?” asked Brains, a note of worry in his voice.

Grandma Tracy shrugged.

“Let’s find out.”

Alan and Kayo

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” asked Alan, watching the Earth shrink in the viewscreen.

“You’ve launched a hundred times before, Alan,” said Kayo, engrossed in the briefing report. “Not so weird.”

“Not that,” said Alan with a huff. “It’s just, you know, it’s Christmas.”

Kayo looked over at him in surprise. “We’ve gone out on rescues on Christmas before.”

“You have,” he said. “I haven’t.”

He scuffed his foot against the ground. “I’m not mad about it,” he assured her. “It’s just the first time I’ve had Christmas in space, y’know? The first time I’ve had Christmas alone.”

“You’re not alone,” said Kayo.

“I know but like, people are missing. I don’t really remember what Christmases with Mom was like, and my brothers made a big thing of it after Dad disappeared, but Dad was never really great at being around on Christmas anyway so I never really got it before.” He shrugged. “It’s kinda lonely.”

Kayo reached out and gave him a quick hug. “I remember my first Christmas without my dad,” she said. “You all helped a lot, but it still hurt that he didn’t feel safe enough to be with us.”

“I wish we could all be together for our Christmases,” said Alan. “But I don’t think that’ll happen this year.”

Kayo check her watch and shook her head. “We’ve got a ways to go yet. And then we’ll need to go all the way back.”

“I could use the booster?”

“And burn through all that fuel? What if we need to make corrections out there?”

“Yeah, I know,” Alan sighed. “I just wish we were still at home.”

Kayo was quiet for a moment and Alan assumed the conversation had ended there.

“Do you though?” she asked suddenly.

“Do I what?”

“Do you really wish we were still at home?”

Alan shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Even knowing there are people that need our help?”

“Well, no,” he stammered. “I’m glad we’re out here helping. I just meant…”

Alan trailed off, unsure of exactly what he had meant. Kayo pinned him with her fierce green eyes, staring him down uncomfortably. His hands started to sweat, slippery on the controls, and he swallowed roughly.

“I wish that everyone out here were safe,” he corrected himself. “I wish that there hadn’t been any malfunctions at all and that no one was in danger. But since they are, I’m also happy that we have the equipment that means we can save them. And I’d rather be out here, making sure their families get a belated Christmas and missing our own, than enjoying ours while others lose their loved ones forever.”

Kayo sat back, evidently satisfied.

“Come on, Kayo, you knew what I meant,” grumbled Alan.

“Yes, I did,” she said simply. “But it’s important to articulate it all the same. Carelessness in our language can lead to carelessness in our attitudes, and if there’s one thing I know about what we do it’s that we cannot afford to be careless.”

 She shrugged. “Besides, as I said, you’re not doing Christmas alone. You’ve got me.”

“Yeah, I do,” said Alan with a sheepish grin. “And hey, that reminds me. I got you a present!”

He set the autopilot in place, and turned to reach into the storage unit built under the dashboard, rummaging through the materials until his fingers wrapped around a thin box.

“Here it is!” he exclaimed, sitting upright and holding the gift out to her. He stopped short in surprise. In her hands, Kayo held a gift of her own, and she grinned at him.

“I got you a present too,” she said and Alan laughed.

“Okay, swap then,” he said, and they did.

He ripped at the paper, not stopping to admire the ribbon or the pattern, he was too excited to unwrap his first gift, and on Christmas Day no less.

“Oh, cool,” he said, running his hands down the spines of the old guitar books and reading their titles. “These are all the old songs Scott used to listen to when we were kids, how did you know?”

“A little birdie analysed your music stream history and cross referenced it with Scott’s, and then told me what to look out for in the estate sales.”

Alan hugged her. “It’s perfect,” he enthused. “You’re literally the best, Kayo.”

“I know,” she said, eyes twinkling.

“Do you like yours?” asked Alan. The paper hung between them and he grabbed it and stowed it away, looking over at the present in her hands expectantly.

“I love it,” said Kayo, looking down at a photo frame, and drinking in the pictures with a soft smile. True colour images and short videos cycled through the frame: Kayo with a birthday cake and a gappy smile; twirling in a beautiful dress as a teenager; crowded in a restaurant booth with Alan and his brothers; a landscape of the town where she’d grown up; walking across a stage at graduation, and more.

Alan smiled shyly. “I asked John if he could help me get in touch with Kyrano for some of them. He sent me the originals. They’re the real gift, under the tree at home. But I downloaded as many copies as I could onto this frame before we launched. That’s why I only put it in a box.”

“I love it, Alan,” she said again. A woman Alan didn’t recognise, standing arm in arm with his own mom, scrolled into sight and Kayo inhaled sharply. She touched the screen with gentle fingers, pausing on the photo

“Is that your mom?” he asked. “With mine?”

Kayo nodded, eyes wide. “I knew they were friends,” she said. “But I’ve never seen…”

She broke off, and hugged Alan again.

“They’d be proud, wouldn’t they?��� she asked. “They’d do the same as us given the choice?”

This time, Alan knew for certain how to answer Kayo.

“Of course they would.”

John and EOS

“EOS, give me a status update on that cargo liner.”

“Alan and Kayo are on track to intercept in seventeen hours, John. Alan wants to know if any oxygen leaks have been reported.”

“GDF says the only detected gas leaks are all inert,” said John, the data scrolling across his eyes. “Give them a list and monitor the percentages. If anything flammable starts to rise, connect me to Three.”

“FAB, John.”

He turned and connected a line back to Earth.

“Virgil, Gordon, geological scans show partial collapse of the tunnel ahead. Scott’s coming up behind you in a POD – wait for him to stabilise before attempting retrieval.”

“FAB, Thunderbird Five,” said Virgil. “Be advised, the local authorities are coordinating rescue of those above ground, so we’ll focus our energy on the people trapped down here.”

“Noted. By local authorities, you mean…?”

“GDF,” supplied Scott. “Contact is a bit of a stickler.”

“Meaning I need to smooth things over?” asked John dryly.

“Captain Saitō’s the name,” said Virgil. “And yes.”

“He does not,” snapped Scott.

“I’ll make contact with the GDF now,” said John. “Keep me updated.”

“FAB.”

John brought up Captain Rian Saitō’s profile on their database before calling, knowing he would need to make a flawless impression. He could see immediately why Scott would have clashed with the man, the personality report flagging a low tolerance for insubordination and a high sensitivity to perceived criticism. In the confines of the military, he’d have done well, in exactly the same way Scott had not.

“Oxygen level in surrounding cells are rising, John. The liner is in no danger, but this will limit entry points.”

John nodded sharply. “Check if they have the equipment available to attempt degassing. If so, contact Kayo and Alan, let them know they’ll need to coordinate a few hours before intercepting them. Use procedure 143-B as a base.

“FAB.”

Contacting the GDF proved to be more difficult than John had expected, even with EOS slipping into the datastream ahead of him to bypass certain layers of security. By the time he had talked with Saitō and placated him enough to release information regarding the cargo of the train that necessitated both the rescue and the GDF’s involvement, their job on the ground was nearly done and John was heartily sick of speaking to uniforms.

“I’ll be writing up my debrief now, sir,” he assured Saitō one last time. “It will be delivered, care of Colonel Casey, by UTC 0300. I look forward to reading your own report.”

He severed the connection and fell backwards, allowing himself a moment to float in freefall.

“You have another call coming through,” announced EOS, and he groaned.

“Who is it?”

“Colonel Casey.”

“What?!” He pulled himself upright, indignation sparking as he grabbed the comm sphere. “I just told Saitō I would send that report tomorrow.”

“She is insisting.”

“Fine,” he said, waving his hand in disgust. “Put her through.”

“John!” exclaimed Colonel Casey, smiling widely at him. “How are you?”

He scoffed, scowling at her. “Care to explain how exactly you expect me to write up a report on a rescue that wrapped up less that ten minutes ago? I haven’t even had a chance to debrief with my own people yet!”

“John, I–”

“And another thing, who does that Saitō guy think he is, running to complain already? You’re not my ‘superior’, we’re an independent organisation and I think that the GDF forgets that, and–”

“John, that’s not what–”

“–besides, I don’t know what kind of superhuman trials you’re running on your officers, but I’ve been awake for nineteen hours, and I want a nap before Three reaches their operation, and–”

“JOHN!”

The shout cut across the room and he stilled, annoyed at the way a raised voice still made him feel like he were a naughty child instead of an adult.

“What?” he asked, injecting his irritation into the word with as much venom as possible.

Colonel Casey levelled him with distinctly unimpressed look, as though she were trying to decide where to begin her reprimand.

“This is a social call, John.”

John’s face turned red and he floated backwards, releasing both the comm sphere and his outrage.

“Oh.”

“Hmm,” was all she said, looking him over. “Do I need to order a shutdown?”

“No need,” he said hurriedly. “We have things under control, I just got off comms with one of your people.”

“I know, that’s how I knew you’d be available for a chat.”

John wished suddenly for a freak fluctuation in the gravitational field, one that would pull him down into the centre of the Earth and keep him there.

“Sorry, Aunt Val,” he mumbled. “It was just a long day.”

“Well, we’ve all had plenty of those recently,” she said, waving off his apology. “I was calling to wish you a happy Christmas.”

“Is it?” he blurted, twisting his head to gape at the clock display. “Happy Christmas to you too, Val.”

Colonel Casey narrowed her eyes. “You are going home for Christmas, aren’t you John? You’re surely not leaving your grandmother all alone down there?”

John winced. “I have to coordinate a liner rescue with Three,” he said helplessly. “It’s not that I don’t want to, but duty calls.”

Colonel Casey pursed her lips. “You’re adults now John,” she said at last. “But as someone who watched her friends put duty over family year after year, and as someone who nearly lost her family from doing the same thing? I think you should go home as soon as you can.”

John swallowed. He didn’t usually think of their life as a sacrifice. Then again, he didn’t usually think of his family as something he was liable to lose.

“I’ll do that, Aunt Val,” he said. “Just as soon as those people are safe.”

After she signed off, he floated a little while longer, knowing it would be another forty-eight hours until Thunderbird Three returned. Assuming there were no further call-outs, it would be the twenty-eighth by the time he himself made it back to Earth.

“Are you going back, John?” asked EOS in a small voice.

“No,” he said, turning away and finding he had no regrets about the decision. He yawned. “I need to sleep though. Wake me when Thunderbird Three is in radar range of the liner.”

“Of course. And John?”

He looked back at her, curious to know what else she wanted to say.

“Last time he was here, Gordon put a box in your room.”

“What?”

“I tried to stop him. But then he showed me and it wasn’t dangerous so he made me promise to only tell you if you couldn’t go home for Christmas. And I did.”

 “Gordon left a box in my room for Christmas?”

EOS nodded and John sighed.

“Thank you EOS. I’ll look at it later.”

Scott, Virgil and Gordon

Scott didn’t mean to ditch John in the final wrap up of the mission, but he found himself walking away long before he’d be formally dismissed. He knew John would make him pay for it later, but at that exact moment in time, he found he didn’t care.

Virgil and Gordon were sitting on the ramp that led to Two’s module, waiting for him, and he collapsed beside them with a grunt.

“That went well, I thought,” said Gordon cheerily.

Virgil groaned, his eyes still shut. “Could you curb the pep for a few minutes? How are you still going?”

“I’m more sprightly than you, old man,” teased Gordon, poking Virgil in the shoulder. “Besides, how are you not excited? It’s Christmas!”

Scott pulled himself up, staring at Gordon in shock. “What do you mean it’s Christmas?” he demanded.

Gordon shrugged. “We went out on Christmas Eve. If you look over to the east, you’ll see this brilliant thing we like to call the sun, and I’m not a math whiz like you Scotty but I do know how the calendar works, so that makes it Christmas Day.”

Scott check the display and groaned.

“We missed Christmas dinner again,” he told Virgil, who screwed shut his eyes even tighter.

“Grandma’s going to be so upset,” said Virgil. “After last year, we promised her…”

“We promised we’d do our best,” reminded Scott. “She knows we wouldn’t have gone if we weren’t needed. Those people would have been crushed without the Mole and PODs, you know that.”

“That doesn’t make me feel much better,” said Virgil. “Just another no-win scenario.”

Gordon threw his arms around their shoulders, dragging them upright. “Step on board gentlemen. I’ve got just the thing to improve the day.”

“Are you inviting me onto my own ‘bird?” demanded Virgil.

Gordon waved him off. “I’m co-pilot, I’m entitled to invite a few people if I want. Come on, let’s go call Grandma, have a quick kip, and fly home. The twenty-sixth is just as good for celebrating as any other.”

Scott and Virgil shared a look, and followed him, their feet dragging in contrast to Gordon’s near-skip.

Instead of the cockpit, Gordon led them through Thunderbird Two down to the small cabin area, rarely used except on those missions none of them wanted to be a part of, the ones that stretched out into long days of recovery following a widescale disaster.

Gordon sat down on his assigned bunk and began to rifle through the storage space built into the wall.

“I know I left this here somewhere,” he muttered. “You can sit down by the way. Oh! Here it is!”

Confused, Scott and Virgil sat down on the opposite bunk and Gordon withdrew three boxes, a bright red bow taped to the lid of each. He passed one box across to Scott and a second to Virgil, grinning widely.

“You should call Grandma now,” he added helpfully. “Patch in John and the others too.”

Scott read the large letters on the outside, twisting the box where the words wrapped around the corners.

“‘For Emergencies Only’?”

“Trust me,” said Gordon. “This is an emergency. Call them.”

Too tired to question him, Scott pulled out the comm and connected the call.

“Scott?” said Grandma. “Are you boys done? Oh, happy Christmas!”

“Happy Christmas, Grandma,” they all chorused.

“Sorry, Grandma,” said Scott. “Gordon said I should call you and that it was for an emergency.”

“Oh!” she said. “Is this your surprise, Gordon? Brains and I have our boxes with us now.”

“That’s the one, Grandma,” said Gordon. “Hold on, we’re getting a hold of John too.”

The holoviewer connected, showing John frowning down at a box in his hands.

“John, you have a call,” said EOS, and he looked up still frowning.

“Gordon, what is this?” he asked.

“Happy Christmas to you too, John,” said Gordon. “How are you, Gordon, how was the rescue?”

“I watched the whole thing, I already know how the rescue went. Thanks, by the way, Scott. You’re writing the extra report I promised Saitō.”

“And a very merry Christmas to me,” muttered Scott to Virgil.

Virgil ignored him. “Can we connect to Alan and Kayo too?” he asked John. “Gordon’s clearly been planning something.”

“I don’t need to plan,” said Gordon, sounding affronted. “I just followed my squid sense.”

“Does your squid sense know if Alan and Kayo are free?”

“They’re on their way still,” said John. “It’ll be another two or three hours before they make direct contact. Hurry up, Gordon, I want to go to sleep.”

“This’ll only take a few,” he assured them. “Kayo knows what this is about.”

“Why does she get to know?” asked Scott indignantly.

“Because keeping a secret around Kayo is like a death wish,” retorted Gordon. “She’d have sniffed it out anyway.”

“Hi guys,” said Alan, waving as the visual connected. “Happy Christmas!”

“Is it time, Gordon?” asked Kayo.

“Time for what?” asked Alan, looking at her in surprise. She slipped out of the frame and he called out after her. “Kayo!”

“Here you go,” she said, and a box was thrown to Alan from offscreen. “Gift number two.”

“Wow thanks!”

“Thank Gordon for this one,” she said.

“Okay, does everyone have their box?” asked Gordon, looking around.

“I don’t,” said EOS, her lights whirling. “John, can we share?”

“Sure EOS,” said John. “Can we open this now?”

“Yes!” crowed Gordon, and there was a loud rustle as they all dove in.

Scott pulled out a Christmas cracker.

“What is this?” he asked.

“Lady Penelope gave them to me,” said Gordon beaming.

John laughed. “A Christmas cracker?”

“And some other goodies,” said Gordon. “Those are all me. I had a feeling we wouldn’t get to do Christmas on the island, so I made up these emergency boxes so we could still celebrate.”

Scott felt a rush of affection for his younger brother, and he evidently wasn’t alone as Virgil grabbed him in a crushing hug.

“This is lovely,” said Grandma. “Oh, Gordon, what a perfect idea, thank you.”

“Thank the squid sense,” said Gordon extracting himself. “Do you all want to pull the cracker together? On three…”

Brains and Grandma exchanged ends, holding a cracker in each hand, as Alan and Kayo mimicked them several hundred thousand kilometres from Tracy Island. John held his cracker by himself as EOS fussed about the optimal grip, insisting that for the next Christmas, John would need to make her a new attachment that would allow her to hold the cracker herself. Gordon, Virgil and Scott all crossed their arms, each forming the corner of a triangle, and Scott couldn’t help but smile, his heart warm and overflowing as though they were all together after all.

“THREE,” shouted Gordon, and they all pulled, an almighty bang echoing around the room.

“Happy Christmas,” said Scott, over and over again, hardly knowing who he was talking to as the chatter got louder and louder and the spirits rose higher and higher. “Happy Christmas, happy Christmas, happy Christmas.”

[hearts4johncasey]

does it count as a fic recommendation if it's my own fic? i think it should. anyways, there's a Chuck x Casey fic i wrote lightly based on the song 'Lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off' by P!ATD <3

(can you tell im a sucker for the forbidden lovers trope?)

[fuckofffuckofffuckoffloveme]

[ericac318]

A Romantic Past

Summary:

Agent Darcy Callaway is a member of the team protecting Chuch Bartowski. What happens when she is reunited with an old flame/ex-teacher Roan Montgomery? This story spans both episodes John Larroquette was featured in. Roan Montgomery x OC

Chapter 1

Darcy walked into her team’s base to find out their latest mission accompanied by Sarah, Casey, and Chuck.

“What does the General have for us this time?” Darcy inquired just before the General appeared on the screen.

“Agent Callaway, you’ll enjoy this mission,” the General replied, “We need to find and get the cipher from Sasha Banacheck. Only one agent has ever gotten close to her and you’ll need his help for this one. Your first order of business is to track down Agent Roan Montgomery.”

Casey sighed, “Oh no, he hates me.”

Sarah looked at Darcy, “Why would you enjoy this mission so much?” she asked with a wink because she already knew. They graduated from the Farm together.

Darcy couldn’t help the blush from creeping over her cheeks, “I may have been his favorite student. And, we may or may not have had a romantic relationship over the years. I’m not sure I want to see him again,” she shared, wishing she could be anywhere else.

The General made a face at Darcy’s words before she interrupted, “Romantic histories aside, you four are to find him and have him help you get the cipher back.”

“Understood,” Casey agreed before he ended the communication and scoffed at Darcy.

Chuck shook his head, looking at Darcy, “So, we’re going after your ex to get information from another one of his many exes? Am I missing anything?” he asked.

“No,” Sarah agreed, “Chuck, I need you to look at this file and see if you can flash on Montgomery’s location.”

Darcy paid close attention while Chuck glanced at the file, She didn’t think she would ever stop being amazed by the way the intersect caused him to know things.

“He’s in Palm Springs, FL,” Chuck shared.

Sarah nodded, “Let’s go get him. Darcy, are you sure you can handle this mission? I know how much you cared about Roan and I think he cares about your the same way. It’s just not in his way to be monogamous.”

“I’ll be fine,” Darcy replied, “Let’s go find my ex.”

“Why do you hate him so much?” Chuck asked Casey as they arrived at the address Chuck had flashed.

Casey sighed, “He failed me twice at the class we all referred to as the ‘Spies Art to Seduction’. I think he just liked my partner and wanted to keep her around, but who knows.”

Darcy shook her head, “I don’t know, Casey. He liked me a lot and I passed on the first try.”

They reached the front door and saw that it was open.

“Someone has already arrived,” Sarah announced.

The team walked in to find that Montgomery’s house was trashed.

After walking around for a few minutes, they found Roan on the ground, passed out drunk before a woman appeared.

“Babe, I’ve gotta go. Sorry,” she paused as she saw Darcy, Sarah, Casey, and Chuck.

Darcy shook her head, “You must be one of his bimbos. You can go,” she instructed before she looked at Casey, “Pick him up and bring him with us. He won’t come to until he’s ready.”

Follow along here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44401627/chapters/111675541

[mpchev]

You like reading fanfics? How about reading about fanfics? 😏

Here’s what I've read so far (or am currently getting through) for my dissertation on fanfiction bookbinding! I'll be updating it as I go until the end of July. If you have any recs to add to the towering pile or any questions/opinions about something on there, I’m all ears!

on fan studies & ficbinding ✔

Alexander, Julia, ‘Making fanfiction beautiful enough for a bookshelf’, The Verge, 9 March 2021 <https://www.theverge.com/22311788/fanfiction-bookbinding-tiktok-diy-star-wars-harry-potter-twitter-fandom> [accessed 12 June 2024]

Buchsbaum, Shira Belén, ‘Binding fan fiction and reexamining book production models’, Transformative Works and Cultures, 37 (2022)

Dym, Brianna, and Casey Fiesler, ‘Ethical and privacy considerations for research using online fandom data’, Transformative Works and Cultures, 33 (2020)

Jenkins, Henry, Textual Pochers: Television Fans and Participatory Culture (New York: Routeledge, 1992)

Jenkins, Henry, ‘Transmedia Storytelling 101’, Pop Junctions, 21 March 2007 <http://henryjenkins.org/2007/03/transmedia_storytelling_101.html#sthash.gSETwxQX.dpuf> [accessed 12 June 2024]

Hellekson, Karen, ‘Making Use Of: The Gift, Commerce, and Fans’, Cinema Journal, 54, no. 3 (2015), 125–131

Kennedy, Kimberly, ‘Fan binding as a method of fan work preservation’, Transformative Works and Cultures, 37 (2022)

Minkel, Elizabeth, ‘Before “Fans,” There Were “Kranks,” “Longhairs,” and “Lions”: How Do Fandom Gain Their Names?’, Atlas Obscura, 30 May 2024 <https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/fandom-names> [accessed 12 June 2024]

Penley, Constance, Nasa / Trek: Popular Science and Sex in America (London: Verso, 1997)

Price, Ludi, ‘Fanfiction, Self-Publishing, and the Materiality of the Book: A Fan Writer’s Autoethnography’, Humanities, 11, no. 100 (2022), 1–20

Schiller, Melanie, ‘Transmedia Storytelling: New Practices and Audiences’, in Stories: Screen Narrative in the Digital Era, ed. by Ian Christie and Annie van den Oever (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2018), 99–107

on folklore, the internet, other background reading ✔

Barthes, Roland, ‘La mort de l’auteur’ in Le Bruissement de la langue: Essais critiques IV (Paris: Éditions du Seuil, 1984)

Blank, Trevor J., Folklore and the Internet: Vernacular Expression in a Digital World (Logan, Utah: Utah State University Press, 2009)

Mauss, Marcel, ‘Essai sur le don. Forme et raison de l’échange dans les sociétés archaïques.’, L’année sociologique, 1923–1924; digital edition by Jean-Marie Tremblay, Les classiques des sciences sociales, 17 February 2002, <http://classiques.uqac.ca/classiques/mauss_marcel/socio_et_anthropo/2_essai_sur_le_don/essai_sur_le_don.html> [accessed 10 June 2024]

McCulloch, Gretchen, Because Internet: Understanding How Language is Changing (Random House, 2019)

Niles, John D., Homo Narrans: The Poetics and Anthropology of Oral Literature (University of Pennsylvania Press: Philadelphia, 1999)

hopefully coming up next (haven't started yet)

A Companion to Media Fandom and Fan Studies, ed. by Paul Booth (Hoboken: John Wiley & Sons, Inc., 2018)

A Fan Studies Primer: Method, Research, Ethics, ed. by Paul Booth and Rebecca Williams (Iowa City: University of Iowa Press, 2021)

Dietz, Laura, ‘Showing the scars: A short case study of de-enhancement of hypertext works for circulation via fan binding or Kindle Direct Publishing’, 34th ACM Conference on Hypertext and Social Media (HT ‘23), September 4–8, 2023, Rome Italy (ACM: New York, 2023)

Fathallah, Judith May, Fanfiction and the Author: How Fanfic Changes Popular Cultural Texts (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2017)

Finn, Kavita Mudan, and Jessica McCall, ‘Exit, pursued by a fan: Shakespeare, Fandom, and the Lure of the Alternate Universe’, Critical Survey, 28, no. 2 (2016), 27–38

Hjorth, Larissa et al., eds. The Routledge Companion to Digital Ethnography (New York: Routledge Taylor & Francis Group, 2017)

Jacobs, Naomi, and JSA Lowe, ‘The Design of Printed Fanfiction: A Case Study of Down to Agincourt Fanbinding’, Proceedings from the Document Academy, 9, issue 1, article 5

Jenkins, Henry, Convergence Culture: Where Old and New Media Collide (New York: New York University Press, 2006)

Jenkins, Henry, Spreadable Media: Creating Value and Meaning In A Networked Culture (New York: New York University Press, 2013)

Kennedy, Kimberly, and Shira Buchsbaum, ‘Reframing Monetization: Compensatory Practices and Generating a Hybrid Economy in Fanbinding Commissions’, Humanities, 11, no. 67 (2022), 1–18

Kirby, Abby, ‘Examining Collaborative Fanfiction: New Practices in Hyperdiegesis and Poaching’, Humanities, 11, no. 87 (2002), 1–9

Kustritz, Anne, Identity, Community, and Sexuality in Slash Fan Fiction (New Work: Routeledge, 2024)

Lamerichs, Nicolle, Productive Fandom: Intermediality and Affecive Reception in Fan Cultures, (Amsterdam: Amsterdam Universtiy Press, 2018)

Popova, Milena, ‘Follow the trope: A digital (auto)ethnography for fan studies’, Transformative Works and Cultures, 33 (2020)

Rosenblatt, Betsy, and Rebecca Tushnet, ‘Transformative Works: Young Women’s Voices on Fandom and Fair Use’, in eGirls, eCitizens: Putting Technology, Theory and Policy into Dialogue with Girls’ and Young Women’s Voices, ed. by Jane Bailey and Valerie Steeves

Soller, Bettina, ‘Filing off the Serial Numbers: Fanfiction and its Adaptation to the Book Market’, in Adaptation in the Age of Media Convergence, ed. by Johannes Fehrle, Werner Schäfke-Zell (Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2019), 58–85

[tea-cub]

Just to be a little Thunderbitch

Back in the TB fandom - all series and all films - after years away and I have pointless things to say:

I hate that they switched Gordon and John's hair-colours in the new series. I loved Gordon as a ginger, not as a blonde. He had the most distinctive look; it was why he was my crush.

Sophia Myles was the best Lady Penelope. I will die on this hill. Love Rosamund Pike but she makes Penny sound like an airhead with a cold.

1960s Alan is my least favourite version of the character; I never warmed to him and it pissed me off that both of the original films both ended up being about him. Ironically, I love the 2004 Alan and I love what they've done with the new version, which feels like a mixture of his predecessors.

Been watching Titanic and I miss Bill Paxton. I loved his version of Jeff.

Fermat was adorable and I miss him.

Kayo is awesome. It feels like they put a fair bit of the 2004 version into the character.

Why does the new series have the characters randomly watching footage from the old series? I know it's meant to be a tribute but watching Kayo 'scanning for information' and just watching footage of her 1960s counterpart going diving with Colonel Casey is weird.

I'm glad the link between the Hood and IR is actually addressed first-hand. The Hood was never named during the series and it was kind of exasperating, as a kid, to have to refer to him as 'bald guy with glowing eyes' if you didn't have merch information to hand. Scott, Gordon and Brains were the ones who had the closest contact with the character in the original series, only Scott saw his face in full (TB4 was attacked and the Hood had his face hidden both times Brains saw him) and it was frustrating that they didn't fully KNOW. I'm glad now that they do.

Speaking of knowing, I'm glad that the boys don't have so much trouble with having to hide their identities; they're given a bit more freedom. As a kid, all the machines seem fun, but 20 years of fanfic have made me gradually realise: it's got to be hard living that kind of life, living separately from the rest of the world and in secret. Of course they all have each other, but family can be your best friend and your worst nightmare; older siblings feel responsible for and boss about the younger and the younger feel like they're not being heard. Plus, as proven by both Tim Casey and Eddie Houseman, it's difficult to maintain friendships with that level of secrecy.

So happy Rhys Darby had a recurring guest-role. Squee.

[catgirlweed]

the continuing adventures of casey egbert is back!

[jxstacey]

Fuck it, new AU time

Fargo Au

THIS IS A TRUE STORY

The events depicted in this AU took place in New York throughout many years

At the request of the survivors, the names have been changed.

Out of respect for the dead, the rest has been told exactly as it occurred.

In this anthology fanfic based on TV series Fargo, each Part follows a different iteration of the TMNT cast who get involved with the murders investigations of important characters throughout New York City that drastically change the events of the shows or comics, with characters even having different roles. Along with seemingly unrelated crimes sometimes being connected in some way.

Basically each iteration has something different about them whether being a character from an iteration that wasn’t in said iteration appearing, a new criminal group(03) or a character’s role changing

Season 1(03)- In 2003, John Bishop passes through Manhattan and influences the community, including Scientist Baxter Stockman into a path of malice and violence to protect themselves at whatever the cost. Meanwhile, Deputy April O’Neil and vigilante Casey Jones team up to solve a series of murders they believe may be linked to Stockman and Bishop.

Season 2(IDW; City At War) - Season 2(IDW; City At War) - In 2019, Mutanimal members Sally Pride and Man Ray cover up Ray’s hit and run of the son of a crime family boss based out of Hell’s Kitchen. While brothers Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello and Michelangelo become entangled with the Hell’s Kitchen Mob, The Mutanimals and Foot Clan when the brothers are forced to investigate a triple homicide connected to the Hell’s Kitchen Mob and Foot Clan at a diner in Lower Manhattan when a Newscaster threatens to expose them to the public. Along with that, New York state trooper Lou Solverson and Richmond County officer Chris Bradford also investigates the diner murders and also find themselves getting dragged into and investigating plot involving the Foot Clan, The Turtles, Mutanimals, EPF and Baxter Stockman as it all grow into a City Wide massacre.

Season 3(2012) - After recent shortcomings and realization, Tiger Claw finds himself hunted down by the Foot Clan after quitting. Causing two members of the Foot, Fishface and Rahzar to come up with a plan to try and kill Tiger Claw with the help of couple Ray Stussy, a parole officer/foot member who was forced to join after witnessing a fight with the turtles and the Foot, and his new girlfriend Nikki Swango(Both returning characters from Fargo), an ex convict. However the plan backfires causing the deaths of a police chief and gang member, triggering a chain recent of events between the Foot, NYPD and the SoHo Yakuza. Along with that, a low ranking police officer in the NYPD, Lindsay Barker, and crime scene photographer Warren Stone try to figure everything out to prevent further bloodshed.

Season 4(Mutant Mayhem)- Mutant crook Hypno-Potamus(Formerly known as Mezmer Ron) accidentally stumbles upon a talent show set and finds himself skyrocketing into the entertainment industry. However he soons finds himself entangled in a gang war when he witnesses gang leader Superfly kill a distributor of his. Now a member of the Mutanimals against his will and also for the Liberty Mafia after being blackmailing by their boss, Ethan DeLuca, Hypno goes back and forth between the groups as he tries to find a way out, then deciding to con both sides of the war. Surely deceiving a psychopath(Superfly) and a narcissist(Ethan) can’t be too hard right?

Season 5(Rise) - In 2018, Baron Draxum kidnaps Leonardo Hamato to hopefully get him to join him. However the turtle makes it impossible, to where brainwashing him won’t work either. Draxum then tries to drag out Leo’s father Splinter, formerly known as Lou Jitsu, which fails as well. While Leo’s brothers deal with idiotic villains going after them, April hires John Bishop, a mysterious Special Agent with ties to the TBI(Texas Bureau of Investigation) and CIA and a person who escaped from Draxum’s lab years prior without trouble and temporarily dated the Battle Nexus Host, Big Mama, before she could get the chance to use him as a Battle Nexus Fighter. However, Bishop isn’t exactly who he appears to be, maybe not human at all, and he plans to rescue Leo while at the same time plotting to take Draxum out of the picture, permanently.

More on each of the seasons and changes soon

Season 1 Current Overview

The Characters of Season 1

——

Season 1 Chapter List

Ch 1: The Scientist’s Dillema https://archiveofourown.org/works/53552530/chapters/135553690

Ch 2: The Mantis King https://archiveofourown.org/works/53552530/chapters/138648616

Ch 3: A Spikey Road https://archiveofourown.org/works/53552530/chapters/140873098#workskin

[ambear9]

Aprils words: Bagel Cake Doll

[homestuck-fanauthor-coalition]

john (take me with you)

Chapter 3: i know the feeling (i really do)

Summary: John has a lot to think about.

==> John: Enjoy your stay. So far, it’s been great! Not very busy, though. There’s not a lot to do at Dave’s apartment, and neither of you want to subject yourself to the heat more than strictly necessary, so you’ve mostly just hung around. You’re surprised you haven’t seen Bro yet considering it’s been a few days, but Dave says he’s just reclusive like that. (You’re not sure you believe him.) You’ve played a lot of video games, watched a few movies, and spent ages just chatting. You don’t mind it, really! You’re not exactly the out-and-about type either. But you were starting to get a bit restless, being stuck indoors. The two of you actually left the house today, though! (Really, it was just you tagging along on errands with Dave.)

hey everyone! a new chapter of @eridan-amporaa 's fanfic just dropped! If you need a refresher on what it's about, check out the info below!

john (take me with you) (12667 words) by auspiciousAuthor Chapters: 3/6 Fandom: Homestuck Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: John Egbert/Dave Strider Characters: John Egbert, Dave Strider, Dave's Bro | Beta Dirk Strider, Jade Harley

Additional Tags: Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Background Dad Egbert, Background Nanna Egbert, Bacground Casey (Homestuck), Implied/Referenced Abuse, Good Parent Dad Egbert, Abusive Dave's Bro | Beta Dirk Strider, Pesterlog(s) (Homestuck), Meeting IRL for the first time, Eventual John Egbert/Dave Strider, Slow Burn, POV Alternating, POV Second Person, not formatted exactly like the comic but the command elements are in there for Funsies, Dave's Bro | Beta Dirk Strider's Bad Parenting, Rated T for swearing, Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, the trolls either dont exists or exist as humans who never met the kids. take your pick, Fluff and Angst, Domestic Fluff, Angst

Summary: Title from the song of the same name. TG: what is it GT: well… GT: remember how my nanna gave me a bunch of money for my birthday this year to do something cool? - - TG: where are you going with this GT: well, i negotiated with my dad… GT: and he said i can visit you for a week this summer!! TG: what? - - - - - - Or, John Egbert is finally able to visit his best friend. Dave Strider jumps through hoops to make it happen. Neither of them understand the ramifications of what they're doing, not yet. Good thing Bro's out this week.