#squids running on like…. fumes of motivation at this point

[next-hero-in-line]

This is as done as this is gonna get lmao- @ikaishere I hope you like it anyway

[tsarisfanfiction]

Chocolate Thief

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Gen Genre: Family Characters: Virgil, Scott, Gordon, Alan, John

Scott’s on the warpath.

It’s 5am, this is not proofread.  This is also thanks to a random comment from @gumnut-logic (again) regarding missing chocolate and siblings... I just turned it into some sort of TAG mess.  Oops :P  I’d call this a birthday fic for Scott, except I don’t think he wants this as a birthday present (and also it’s technically the 5th here now...)

The sudden sounds of outrage from the kitchen yanked Virgil out of his painting zone and rudely deposited him back in the den, where he clearly had one fuming brother the floor below him.  He eyed his painting for a moment, wondering if it was worth investigating or if he should just leave his brothers to their mayhem.

Then something went crash and the medic in him reluctantly gave a nudge.  Someone had to make sure no-one was injured, and summoning Grandma in the direction of the kitchen…  His stomach made a minor noise of fear.  Yeah, no. It was going to have to be him.

With another sigh, he gently set down the palette and brush and made his way to the warzone below.

The fuming brother was Scott.  That was only marginally surprising; his eldest brother did have a bit of a temper – more than a bit, if Virgil was honest – but he tended to keep it on a firm leash around family.  The defiant Terrible Two standing opposite him, arms crossed and faces a matching disgruntlement, seemed to be the targets of his ire.

A stool was overturned. Presumably that was the source of the crash.  None of his brothers looked injured, though, and Virgil surmised that it was probably just knocked over.

Whatever had upset Scott, big brother clearly wasn’t running out of steam any time soon.  Virgil considered interrupting to get some sort of explanation for the sudden rage, but decided it was probably best not to draw attention to himself.  There was a high chance that Scott would just turn on him, and as Virgil knew he was innocent of whatever crime had apparently been committed, he wasn’t interested in opening himself up for the firing line.

Besides, neither Gordon nor Alan looked like they particularly needed his help.  Scott on a rampage could be a terrifying sight, but in this instance, neither of Virgil’s little brothers looked particularly cowed by it.  Alan was pouting and Gordon’s mulish glare said that he was just waiting for Scott to pause for a breath.

Unfortunately for the squid, Scott seemed to have forgotten the need for something as simple as breathing as he continued to snarl about… chocolate?

Oh.  That explained things.

Scott was barking up entirely the wrong tree; Virgil wasn’t the guilty party and had not snaffled any of his brother’s chocolate stash when his back was turned, but he had a pretty good guess who it was.

There was a member of their family who was very conspicuously absent.

It was also a member of the family Virgil didn’t feel like getting on the wrong side of.  He certainly didn’t want to be between them and Scott, so with the mystery solved and enough faith in his little brothers to handle the false accusations of an upset big brother without his intervention, he made the decision to retreat back to his painting.

Maybe he’d relocate to the studio, away from the ruckus of Storm Scott.

He’d made it up all of two steps when there was the sound of a scuffle, and the medic resurfaced.  It wasn’t like his brothers would actively try to injure each other, but accidents happened…

With a groan, Virgil reversed course and trudged back into the kitchen.

Gordon and Alan had clearly decided they’d had enough of the accusations and had jumped Scott.

On the plus side, it had worked to silence him momentarily as he staggered under the weight of two little brothers in his arms.  There were some flailing limbs, and with some alarm, Virgil realised Scott was losing his balance.

Reflexes honed from rescues had him across the kitchen floor in moments, grabbing Scott from behind and steadying him before he toppled.

Gordon had a hand shoved over Scott’s mouth – or rather a fist stuffed in it, which was both gross and rather impressive.  His arms full of little brothers, Scott had no way of forcing him to retract it, either.

With a sigh, Virgil decided that maybe it was time to play family peacemaker.

“You really think those two stole your chocolate?” he asked Scott.

The muffled noise said yes, he did.

Virgil wasn’t about to endanger himself by pointing out the real culprit, but thankfully he didn’t have to, because the two blonds decided that was the perfect cue for them to start proclaiming their innocence.

Loudly.

Virgil left them to it, glancing up at the balcony attached to the den, where someone was stood watching them.  Green eyes met his, one eyebrow raised, and he shrugged them off.

No, he was not getting in the way of that.  He quite liked not having to look over his shoulder constantly inside his own home, thanks.

He wasn’t sure he even wanted to know what Scott had done to have his chocolate stolen in retaliation. Then again, sometimes boredom or mischief was enough of a motivation.

Messing with Scott was like poking a hive of wasps with a stick, but not everyone was particularly worried about the retaliation.  Some people even found it amusing.  Gordon was also on that list, admittedly, but stealing chocolate wasn’t normally his style.

Deciding that Scott was well in hand – the blonds were small but mighty, and big brother didn’t stand a chance even if he liked to pretend he did – Virgil released him and once again headed up the stairs, away from the fallout.

“You know he’ll want revenge,” he pointed out as he reached the balcony and paused to observe the kerfuffle from a safe distance.  Gordon’s fist was no longer in Scott’s mouth, but he was still yelling over anything Scott might be trying to accuse him of, and Alan was like a terrier puppy as he clung on for dear life, his own protestations of innocence interjecting between Gordon’s declarations.

“I’d like to see him try.”

The tone it was said in informed him that boredom was the motivator.  Virgil would have winced, but at least it wasn’t aimed at him.  Then again, it never was.  The schemes only ever targeted Scott, or very rarely Gordon.  He and Alan tended to remain in the clear, or as occasional accomplices.

“Chocolate?”

A bar was offered, and Virgil eyed it for a moment, before glancing back at the trio of brothers in the kitchen – now leaving the kitchen and heading in the approximate direction of the pool.  One or more of them was going to get a dunking for sure.

“I’ll pass.”  Not that he didn’t want chocolate, but he knew that was the very same chocolate Scott was flailing about, and if he ate it he would become an accomplice, if not a full-blown scapegoat.

Neither of those particularly appealed.

“Suit yourself,” John shrugged, tearing the wrapper open and biting off the first few squares.  “Your loss.”

He let the wrapper drop, the sea breeze light enough that it carried straight down, landing in the pool at the same moment an almighty splash indicated that all three brothers had ended up toppling in together in a mess of limbs.

Virgil hurriedly retreated, out of sight, as Scott caught sight of the wrapper and let out a deafening roar.

“JOHN!”

Green eyes glimmered in amusement.

“I’d say that’s my cue to get back to the office,” Virgil’s trouble-making big brother commented as though there wasn’t a sopping wet eldest brother on the warpath for him.  “See you later.”

“Bye,” Virgil said automatically, watching as John strode over to Scott’s launch chute and slipped inside just before a dripping Scott Tracy thundered up the stairs and into the den.

“Where is he, Virgil?” Blue eyes sparked with fire and, knowing neutrality wasn’t going to work in his favour against Scott, Virgil pointed at the chute.

A second roar and Scott tore for the stairs to the hangar, even though Virgil knew full well it would be too late.  By the time he reached the hangars, the space elevator would be halfway back to Thunderbird Five, John and his stolen chocolate safely aboard and out of Scott’s reach for the foreseeable future.

Shaking his head at his brothers’ antics, and resolving to stay out of the way of whatever feud this was going to start between his big brothers – John seemed to enjoy provoking Scott when he was bored, and the youngest three had all learnt the hard way that it wasn’t worth getting caught in that crossfire – Virgil returned to his easel and paints.

One thing was for sure. Life with his brothers was never boring.