#unnamed wife of Scott Tracy

[idontknowreallywhy]

75-3

Final part of this fluffy nonsense. Yea it’s mildly unhinged… but once the idea of Scott tormenting his offspring by being outrageous took me… well… who am I to argue?

Again a warning for old people being romantic ;) (at what point do I need to make this Teen rating on AO3? Perhaps it has crossed that line with all this insinuation 😏)

Part 1 / Part 2

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

Kala Patthar was one of their favourites.

It was objectively a beautiful sunrise, of course. But there were other reasons that wouldn’t have made it into the guidebook.

By 2077 the Tracy villa and all of its many architecturally improbable extensions was teeming with life. And trip hazards. If there wasn’t a bum-shuffling toddler lying in wait for the unwary around every corner it would be one of the multitude of domestic animals that had begun to take over in the years since Grandpa Jeff uttered the immortal words “Aww I’m sure a couple of kittens or a bunny rabbit wouldn’t hurt…”

Or perhaps the unsuspecting might fall foul of a horde of stampeding kindergarteners cackling over some nefarious plan to make the lives of the Tracy adults just that little bit more Interesting this morning.

Or worse, TEENAGERS. Several of these had seemingly sprung from nowhere to lurk moodily in doorways, complain about adult incompetence, monopolise the holoscreen and consume a significant chunk of the Tracy fortune in snack form.

Suffice to say, it was busy. And with apparent responsibility for two of the grouchy teenagers, the most devious of the kindergarteners and the loudest of the toddlers, Scott and his long suffering wife had their hands full. And their brains. Chances to escape grew scarce and any idea of a semblance of privacy anywhere on the Island was absolutely laughable. Most trips off-island had become taxi journeys for a horde of offspring (theirs or a sibling’s… it mattered little) desperate to see “the real world”. Such was the life of a parent. They wouldn’t have changed it for anything. And yet.

And yet.

It was on Scott’s 45th birthday that, doubtless to enable some grand surprise-party-esque scheme in his absence, Virgil had insisted on the weary pair leaving the island for a few hours to, in his words “just do something, anything, as long as it is somewhere else”. And so they’d taken off in One and set a course for the next impressive sunrise they could make it in time for - the one reflected off the highest mountain on the planet, best viewed hovering a few thousand feet above the smaller peak of Kala Patthar.

Despite the close proximity of the new co-pilot seat, it had quickly became clear that Thunderbird One was just too shouty for any kind of conversation to take place without yelling oneself hoarse or using the IR comms system. As that wasn’t always ideal for training and so on, Brains had installed small headsets so the two pilots could communicate privately.

Of course a truly private conversation was a rare treat and Scott had taken full advantage of that during the half hour flight to their destination. As it turned out, he had a lot of ideas about how they might spend their free morning and had run them by her in some detail.

By the time they arrived she was wound so very tightly she’d leapt over the top of the seat before he’d even got the autopilot engaged. It had been a more than little hairy for a moment, albeit they both dissolved into hysterics as soon as it was clear One wasn’t about to become an unexplained fireball to add to the mystique of the mountain range below them.

Scott smiled to himself at the memory. Perhaps not their most responsible hour… In any case, the mutual near death experience had led to child five’s eventual appearance… so all’s well…

This morning, the journey was necessarily longer and the conversation perhaps a little more suitable-for-all-audiences. But he treasured it all the same. The sound of her voice never failed to soothe the uncertain, scratchy parts of his soul. Together, things just made more sense.

One’s cheerful song filled the rest of his hearing and everything was right with the world. Without travelling a whisker over Mach 7 they reached the Himalayas well before dawn managed to. After ensuring the autopilot would do the business this time (see, he could learn), Scott pushed back the shoulder guards, leaned around and reached back to grasp his wife’s hand.

“Right, give me a second.” She took a breath and steadied herself before reaching a foot tentatively forwards towards the footplate. She was a little less sure of her step these days, her famously steady hand shaking a little within their white knuckled grip on each other. He worried about that, the same way he worried that she was a little slower, a little thinner.

A little more fragile.

But then, he supposed, so was he.

If she slipped, could he still pull her up? He thought so, he was still lifting rather more in the gym than his medic-approved fitness plan recommended. But even then, the entirety of her body weight dangling by one arm would likely be… bad… for her arthritic shoulder.

He twisted more and reached around with his other arm to catch her round the waist. His back complained a little. He ignored it. Mostly. At least, he didn’t groan out loud. You’re not old until it’s audible.

Perhaps at some point the two of them would have to admit this was a ridiculous thing for a couple of their age to be doing and find a park bench to sit on to watch the sunrise like all the normal, sensible OAPs. But as she finally made it around to the front, fell into his lap and snuggled against his shoulder he thanked whoever might be listening that today was not that day. They had never really achieved normal or sensible so it seemed a little late to start pretending now.

His arms settled around her as naturally as they always had. He buried his face in her hair, as silver now as his own had been for the last twenty years, but the scent that surrounded him was the same as the first day he’d held her.

A shaft of gold burst over the horizon and bathed them in its warmth. They both knew full well the ship was so highly insulated that the internal temperature sensor wouldn’t even have flickered but they’d both swear they felt it even so.

These days they appreciated the unique view a little more. For a few minutes at least.

She’d obviously been pondering the same memories he had as, with a little huff of mirth she raised an arm to point out one of the shadowy outcrops below.

“You know… it must be thirty years to the day since I almost made you nosedive into that particularly pointy hunk of rock.”

“I believe you’re right…” He couldn’t resist a little smirk “… although it didn’t end so badly as I recall… happy birthday to me.”

She looked up at him. He looked back. The eye twinkling thing was involuntary, it really was. Apparently she thought otherwise and whacked him on the chest.

“Stop that train of thought right there, old man, I’m not as agile as I was.”

He pouted. She raised an eyebrow. He finally gave into the desire to stroke it softly and murmured:

“Can’t help it, you being so pretty and all.”

She blushed then, which made everything ten times worse and they forgot about the sunrise for a while.

As if summoned by the earlier conversation, the resulting and now very much grown-up child in question appeared on the comm but neither of them noticed Mal’s hologram pop up until the horrified squawk transported Scott immediately back to Alan’s teenage years.

“Dad, what the hell are you doing in Kathma… MOM! DAAAAD! Aaaaaggggghhhh my eyessss. You can’t DO that in a Thunderbird, it should be illegal!”

She giggled. Scott’s lip quirked. Apparently the near completion of his third decade had not entirely exorcised the angst-ridden whine. Scott refused to lift his eyes from her face but winked and dropped his voice into the tone that still made all but one of his children jump to attention:

“Do what, exactly, Malcolm?”

There was a pause, before the whine intensified in another direction:

“Uncle Virgil! Dad and Mom are… are… well… SMOOCHING in One and it’s inappropriate and… and unhygienic, please tell him to stop.”

A familiar rumbling laugh could be heard retreating in the background as his brother firmly refused to get involved. Uncle Gordon, however, clearly saw an opportunity to broaden the education of his clearly-far-too-sheltered 29 year old nephew:

“I’d wager he’s done a lot worse than that young Mallie. Oh the stories that little silver firework could tell…”

“That’s no way to talk about your sister in law.” John interjected.

Scott snorted and his wife cackled.

“Don’t call me Mallie. And ugh, I did NOT need that mental image!”

It would have been a waste not to fully appreciate his son’s tormented facial expression and he would never be fully able to turn down the chance to show Gordon how it was done. Thus Scott kissed his beloved on the nose then finally looked up at the hologram with a smirk:

“Just as well for you really, son, else you would not have existed.”

The jaw drop was most pleasing. As was the subsequent gulping fish impression.

“That… that is not the sort of thing a person needs to know about… himself.”

“I didn’t know you were such a bashful butterfly, Marshmallow.” It seemed his mother was unable to resist a little light teasing of her own - the deployment of the childhood nickname a low blow.

“I’m not! It’s just… at your age… it’s not safe! I bet you have no safety harnesses! One is more risky than the others. What about your heart, Dad?”

A line had been crossed. Nobody made reference to that little… incident… and got away with it. Particularly when they were the prime suspect in yesterday’s washbasin-lizard prank that had probably put more strain on the senior Tracy heart than any more pleasurable pursuits could inflict.

Revenge could take so many forms…

“I’ve ravished your mother in plenty more dangerous places, Malcolm, and plan to continue to do so as long as possible. So unless there was a pressing question you had… I’d like to get back to the task in hand.”

He squeezed her knee and winked. She whalloped him again and hissed his name disapprovingly while utterly failing to convey any sense of genuine disapproval.

He was going too far and he knew it, the poor lad had gone from hologram blue to hologram purple and he could hear Gordon guffawing fit to rupture something in the background. But when he could feel the love of his life pressed against his chest and shaking with silent hysterics he couldn’t stop himself. He’d always loved making her laugh… it was his greatest weakness.

“You… I cannot believe you said that, Father. Out loud. I… I am returning your birthday present!”

Scott was about to feign a sad face when a quiet comment whispered into his ear made him cackle.

“Awww shucks, but I guess I’ll live. Your Mom reckons hers will make up for it.”

It was good for the self-proclaimed heir to Gordon’s throne to be on the receiving end of the teasing for once and Scott had no regrets. Although he did choke slightly when the raven haired 13-year old offspring of his eldest daughter wandered into shot, grinning, gave a cheeky salute and called “Go Grandpa!”

He was for it now.

“Now look what you’ve done! She’ll be traumatised! And Loopy Lu will kill you dead. Deader than dead.”

“Not if she hears you call her that first, she’ll be too busy hunting you to bother with me. Why don’t you go and be a supportive uncle and minimise the terrible trauma I’ve inflicted. We’ll be back for dinner.”

“You’d better.”

A finger was wagged with impotent menace.

“And if you’re smiling sickeningly when you are… there will be consequences!”

“Good to know.” Scott swiped the hologram away.

They sat together quietly for a few moments, content with just the sound of each other’s breath. The sun had truly risen now and was already too bright to look at. Scott pushed away the irritation at missing the moment - the sun rose every day after all - they didn’t need the excuse of An Occasion to come and watch that particular little trick. They could even come back tomorrow. Although maybe he would try to find some sort of light harness… just in case.

His wife chuckled to herself again and sighed “We probably won’t live that one down for a while.”

Scott lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles one by one.

“What would you like to do now?”

She paused for a moment as she ran her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck. “Pigeon Island isn’t far… you could land and we could go for a walk along the shore?”

“It’ll be pretty empty down there at this time of day.”

“Precisely.”

He grinned and put his hands back on the control levers.

“Well as we have been vigorously reminded, health and safety is paramount so you’d better hold on tight, Mrs Tracy.”

“I always do.”

Thunderbird One performed a wide arc over the highest place Earth had to offer before her scram jets squealed in delight as the trio chased the dawn across the sky.

[idontknowreallywhy]

75 - Part 2

Next part of this Scott’s-75th Birthday-Romantic-Fluff-Fest

If you are likely to be offended by the thought of old people still getting up to implied romantic mischief, maybe back away slowly 😆

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

Brains’ jaw had dropped, cartoon-like, when Scott had suggested One could be modded to include a permanent co-pilot seat. It had made logical sense though - as they expanded the rosta and needed to train the new recruits - it wasn’t ideal for the second to be confined to the jump seat with very little view of what was going on or ability to take over if things went south.

It was all about the quality of the trainee experience and not in any way about what the instructor had access to once the trainee got into the hot seat…

Alan had requested an anti-backseat-driver protocol to disable the co-pilot controls by default.

Scott had overruled him.

In fairness he was a decent teacher, especially when it came to all things airborne. He’d discovered a level of calm, of patience that didn’t seem to feature highly in any other area of his life. And, initial nervousness aside, his pupils seemed to enjoy the process of being taught which must be a good measure. The back seat driving thing? That was strictly reserved for when a brother was sat in front. He had never quite forgotten the pole cat incident after all. Nor had he quite forgiven his youngest brother for turning out to be a more instinctive pilot…

But he behaved himself impeccably with the younger end of the family and the other trainees.

He’d got a real thrill every time he watched one of them cross the threshold between Knowing-how and Feeling-how to fly Thunderbird One. She’d never been a Read-the-Manual kind of a ship which was why John and Virgil hated flying her. Some of the recruits, while achieving a level of competence, agreed very quickly with his brothers. But others, his eldest in particular, had Understood and he had glowed with pride as first One and then Eleven became almost an extension of her very limbs.

There was only one person he’d taught to fly by actually sharing the pilot seat, however. It maybe hadn’t been the most efficient series of lessons… he’d had to sneak into the file storage and edit a few of the security videos… before EOS caught him. Once he explained that certain certain others might be embarrassed to happen across the footage she’d at once offered to automatically cease recording and patch in a loop whenever the two of them embarked on a non-mission flight. Next to his wife, the AI had long been Scott’s staunchest conspirator.

As the years went on and the mission workload was shared between more people and then more ships, the chances to escape on those non-mission flights increased.

Scott had always loved to watch the sunrise. His wife… well she had needed persuading as to the merits of losing that extra couple of hours in bed. And when Scott Tracy needed to argue his case, he did it in style.

And thus was born their secret hobby of chasing down the best of the best. He’d started with Wainui Beach, naturally… then Uluru was also pretty much in their backyard. Of course having an aircraft that kind of permitted time travel over long distances helped, with the added benefit that if SOMEONE slept in too long to catch the one they’d planned, they could find another by chasing the horizon just a little further back. They’d covered the top 50 rated sunrises on the planet within a couple of years, then started hunting down the viewpoints nobody else knew about - the ones that were best viewed from a little higher than the average punter could climb...

It had also been a good excuse for his wife to peel him off the island when the Retired Commander’s tendency to back-seat-drive rescues caused… friction… with IR’s Actual Commander. Scott knew precisely what mother and daughter were up to but enjoyed their expeditions so much he never quite got around to objecting very strongly.

“Where to M’lady?”

She looked at her watch and did some mental calculation before frowning a little. Scott found himself distracted by wanting to run a fingertip over one of her silvery eyebrows and almost missed her answer.

“Hmmm, well given the date I was going to suggest Kala Patthar… but we took a little longer getting down here than I realised.”

Scott eyed his watch.

“What time do we need to be there?”

“Five thirty-seven.”

“And six and a quarter hours back… it’s not quite ten yet, we’ve got time?”

“Not at Mach 5, we’ll just miss it. No worries we can pick another site further… oh don’t make that face, Mr Tracy, you know the rules.”

“Oh come oooon… it’s my birthday! We can nudge the ceiling up just a teeny tiny little bitty bit?” He carefully adjusted his facial expression from petulant to puppy dog and, predictably, her expression softened just a fraction at the edges. He stepped it up with a little flicker of the eyelashes and, with only long experience and the faintest twitch of an eyebrow as warning, he ducked the cuff around the head she aimed at him.

“You’re irascible.”

“You love it.” He pulled her close and kissed her passionately. She sighed in mock defeat and patted his cheek.

“Hmmmmmm. Alright. Not above seven, though, or I’ll set the Tank on you.”

Scott punched the air in triumph and she burst into laughter. With a quick fist-bump to One’s landing strut and a cheerful “See you in a minute, Gorgeous” he grabbed his wife’s hand and towed her towards the pilot lift, the two of them giggling like a couple of teenagers.

[idontknowreallywhy]

WIP Wednesday

“Right, give me a second.” She took a breath and steadied herself before reaching a foot tentatively forwards towards the pilot footplate. She was a little less sure of her step these days, her famously steady hand shaking a little within their white knuckled grip on each other. He worried about that, the same way he worried that she was a little slower, a little thinner.

A little more fragile.

But then, he supposed, so was he.

If she slipped, could he still pull her up? He thought so, he was still lifting rather more in the gym than his medic-approved fitness plan recommended. But even then, the entirety of her body weight dangling by one arm would likely be… bad… for her arthritic shoulder.

He twisted more and reached around with his other arm to catch her round the waist. His back complained a little. He ignored it. Mostly. At least, he didn’t groan out loud. You’re not old until people can hear it.

Perhaps at some point the two of them would have to admit this was a ridiculous thing for a couple of their age to be doing and find a park bench to sit on to watch the sunrise like all the normal, sensible OAPs. But as she finally made it around to the front of the chair, tumbled into his lap and snuggled against his shoulder he thanked whoever might be listening that today was not that day.

They had never really managed normal or sensible so it seemed a little late to start pretending now.

[scribbles97]

Gah, just all of this. The love, the fluff, the Scott still being Scott but learning to have some fun and enjoying his golden years 💕

75 - Part 2

Next part of this Scott’s-75th Birthday-Romantic-Fluff-Fest

If you are likely to be offended by the thought of old people still getting up to implied romantic mischief, maybe back away slowly 😆

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

Brains’ jaw had dropped, cartoon-like, when Scott had suggested One could be modded to include a permanent co-pilot seat. It had made logical sense though - as they expanded the rosta and needed to train the new recruits - it wasn’t ideal for the second to be confined to the jump seat with very little view of what was going on or ability to take over if things went south.

It was all about the quality of the trainee experience and not in any way about what the instructor had access to once the trainee got into the hot seat…

Alan had requested an anti-backseat-driver protocol to disable the co-pilot controls by default.

Scott had overruled him.

In fairness he was a decent teacher, especially when it came to all things airborne. He’d discovered a level of calm, of patience that didn’t seem to feature highly in any other area of his life. And, initial nervousness aside, his pupils seemed to enjoy the process of being taught which must be a good measure. The back seat driving thing? That was strictly reserved for when a brother was sat in front. He had never quite forgotten the pole cat incident after all. Nor had he quite forgiven his youngest brother for turning out to be a more instinctive pilot…

But he behaved himself impeccably with the younger end of the family and the other trainees.

He’d got a real thrill every time he watched one of them cross the threshold between Knowing-how and Feeling-how to fly Thunderbird One. She’d never been a Read-the-Manual kind of a ship which was why John and Virgil hated flying her. Some of the recruits, while achieving a level of competence, agreed very quickly with his brothers. But others, his eldest in particular, had Understood and he had glowed with pride as first One and then Eleven became almost an extension of her very limbs.

There was only one person he’d taught to fly by actually sharing the pilot seat, however. It maybe hadn’t been the most efficient series of lessons… he’d had to sneak into the file storage and edit a few of the security videos… before EOS caught him. Once he explained that certain certain others might be embarrassed to happen across the footage she’d at once offered to automatically cease recording and patch in a loop whenever the two of them embarked on a non-mission flight. Next to his wife, the AI had long been Scott’s staunchest conspirator.

As the years went on and the mission workload was shared between more people and then more ships, the chances to escape on those non-mission flights increased.

Scott had always loved to watch the sunrise. His wife… well she had needed persuading as to the merits of losing that extra couple of hours in bed. And when Scott Tracy needed to argue his case, he did it in style.

And thus was born their secret hobby of chasing down the best of the best. He’d started with Wainui Beach, naturally… then Uluru was also pretty much in their backyard. Of course having an aircraft that kind of permitted time travel over long distances helped, with the added benefit that if SOMEONE slept in too long to catch the one they’d planned, they could find another by chasing the horizon just a little further back. They’d covered the top 50 rated sunrises on the planet within a couple of years, then started hunting down the viewpoints nobody else knew about - the ones that were best viewed from a little higher than the average punter could climb...

It had also been a good excuse for his wife to peel him off the island when the Retired Commander’s tendency to back-seat-drive rescues caused… friction… with IR’s Actual Commander. Scott knew precisely what mother and daughter were up to but enjoyed their expeditions so much he never quite got around to objecting very strongly.

“Where to M’lady?”

She looked at her watch and did some mental calculation before frowning a little. Scott found himself distracted by wanting to run a fingertip over one of her silvery eyebrows and almost missed her answer.

“Hmmm, well given the date I was going to suggest Kala Patthar… but we took a little longer getting down here than I realised.”

Scott eyed his watch.

“What time do we need to be there?”

“Five thirty-seven.”

“And six and a quarter hours back… it’s not quite ten yet, we’ve got time?”

“Not at Mach 5, we’ll just miss it. No worries we can pick another site further… oh don’t make that face, Mr Tracy, you know the rules.”

“Oh come oooon… it’s my birthday! We can nudge the ceiling up just a teeny tiny little bitty bit?” He carefully adjusted his facial expression from petulant to puppy dog and, predictably, her expression softened just a fraction at the edges. He stepped it up with a little flicker of the eyelashes and, with only long experience and the faintest twitch of an eyebrow as warning, he ducked the cuff around the head she aimed at him.

“You’re irascible.”

“You love it.” He pulled her close and kissed her passionately. She sighed in mock defeat and patted his cheek.

“Hmmmmmm. Alright. Not above seven, though, or I’ll set the Tank on you.”

Scott punched the air in triumph and she burst into laughter. With a quick fist-bump to One’s landing strut and a cheerful “See you in a minute, Gorgeous” he grabbed his wife’s hand and towed her towards the pilot lift, the two of them giggling like a couple of teenagers.