#scott/penelope | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

idontknowreallywhy · 10 months ago

Note

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.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #scott/penelope #lady penelope creighton-ward #scott tracy #tag:love&thunderbirds #romance

33 notes · View notes