#brandon berrenger

[shirubie]

WIP Wednesday

So, teeny-tiny snippets of a Alan/Brandon fic thats been bouncing in my head. For context, Alan and Brandon go snowboarding together and the Hood shows up to try to kidnap Alan.

---

Snippet 1:

"DON'T THINK SO, BALDY!" Brandon swung the snowboard with all his might.

WHACK!

Laminated wood and fiberglass solidly hit the criminal mastermind on the side of his ugly head.

Snippet 2:

"I'm dead!" Brandon said as he curled up in a ball on the bed. "The Hood must have, like, twenty hit-men on speed dial ready to go after me!"

He tugged the blanket over his head, as if the thin fabric could protect him from a potential assassin. His eyes scanned the room fearfully. Has that big potted plant always been in the room? Or was it the Hood in disguise ready to strike back?

"Brandon, calm down," Kayo said, pulling the blanket off the teenager's head and ruffling his red hair. "You think the Hood wants it known that he got knocked out by a vlogger with a snowboard? He'd be the laughing stock of the criminal underworld."

"You think so?" Brandon asked meekly.

"He'll keep this quiet, trust me."

[hebuiltfive]

Another ask as I enjoyed the last one so much!

oh no: [character] gets sick at the worst possible moment. With Alan

This is so much fun! Thank you for this ask too @janetm74!

Oh No (feat. Alan Tracy)

He had been training for this. In between college work and lending an occasional hand to his brothers with iR, Alan had been spending all his time training. Every waking hour was spent thinking of the best way to enhance his chances of winning the tournament, of how it would feel to stand on the top of that podium in first place, of how the cold metal of the golden trophy would feel being held in his hands because of course he’d win. He was Alan fricken’ Tracy, as Brandon had lovingly and constantly reminded him throughout these last few months. 

Alan Tracy was going to win his very first motor-race, and possibly break some records, because that’s what Tracys did.

There had been no pressure in those months leading up to the event, or at least, Alan hadn’t felt any. He enjoyed pushing himself to his limits in his little red motor-car, loved testing and seeing how far and how fast he could go.

Brandon had been a blessing in disguise. Alan wasn’t sure he’d have been ready for his first race so soon had The Bear not been around to help motivate and encourage him. Scott hadn’t been keen on Brandon being Alan’s unofficial coach. He had wanted to employ someone with more… suitable credentials, but work had been heavy since their father had returned from the depth of space and Scott hadn’t found the time to sort something out. Brandon was over the moon, naturally, and had got to work almost immediately on a strict schedule that they had stuck to religiously for months.

Now, it was the moment of truth.

Alan had awoken early that morning, though not by choice. He was restless, no doubt due to his nerves, and had rolled out of his bed, leaving his dorm before most of his fellow roommates had stirred from their party-induced sleeps. The race being on a Saturday had meant Alan didn’t need to worry about skipping any of his classes. It did mean he had to miss out on some parties but, given that Alan wasn’t very keen on attending them anyway, he figured he wasn’t missing much in that regard.

He met Brandon at the gates of the racecourse at their agreed upon time. Compared to his friend’s overly-excitable bounciness, Alan felt a pit in his stomach — or rather his chest — that made even simple breathing seem difficult. The morning seemed to drag on and on, and by the time noon hit, and the crowds had begun to gather in the stands, Alan was certain something wasn’t right.

“You alright, man?” Brandon asked, handing him his modified crash helmet.

Alan nodded. If he spoke, it would have interrupted his very important breathing rituals that usually helped him during moments of panic but were seemingly not helping him very much at this moment in time…

“This is going be totally awesome!” His friend seemed unconcerned by Alan’s feeble nod, and turned back to his monitor. 

Messages were rolling past the screen so fast it made Alan feel dizzy. He steadied himself with a hand on the workshop table behind him, closed his eyes and counted to ten. He was sure his breathing was becoming more strained and… was it getting hot in here? He was sure the temperature for today was a steady 68°… Why was he sweating? The idea of perhaps fetching a cup of water crossed his mind, followed by the slightly more terrifying realisation that Alan couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually drunk anything.

“Everyone is tuning in for this, dude. This is going to be legendary! Have you decided on the pose you’re going to do when you’re standing on the— Woah! Alan? Dude, you’re looking… Are you sure you’re alright?”

Even if Alan wanted to answer Brandon, he found his voice lacking any words. God, he felt stifled in here. Maybe he just needed some air. Air was good. Air would sort him out…

His vision blurred and Alan swayed unsteadily. Okay, so his feet didn’t seem to want to move. That was a problem.

He blinked only once and then was greeted by two fuzzy looking Brandon’s standing in front of him.

Advancing towards him. 

His friend yelled something over his shoulder, calling for something or someone maybe, but it was nothing more than a muffled sound to Alan’s ringing ears.

Alan tried to tell him that he’d be fine in a moment, that he had to be because he had a race to win goddamnit, but words still seemed to evade him. 

His legs gave out from under him. 

He felt like he was burning up. 

This wasn’t just a panic attack.

The last thing Alan remembered was Brandon catching him clumsily and then…

[gumnut-logic]

A little Virgil and Alan, and stupid mistakes.

Warnings: drug references.

-o-o-o-

It was a persistent beep that tore him from a weird dream of painting Two in Van Gogh style stars and suns. A swipe at his bedside table and something he had no care to identify crashed to the floor.

Blurry eyes found his clock and discovered numbers that shouldn’t exist. Four was one of them and immediately reminded him of Gordon, but it was the AM following it that hurt his brain.

“Virgil?”

John’s voice slapped clarity into his neurons and his body started moving automatically. Before he knew it, he was on his feet and halfway to his bedroom door.

“No incident.” John’s voice was sharp and obviously understanding regarding Virgil’s brain function at this time of the morning.

The words sunk in and Virgil wilted on the spot. “What?” One word was all he had.

“Sit down.”

That sparked worry. “What?”

“Sit down.”

Unable to really do anything else, he did what his brother asked as consciousness slowly seeped into awareness.

“I’ve received a call from Brandon Berrenger.”

“What?”

“Alan attended a party with Brandon last night.”

Virgil blinked slowly. He remembered dropping his little brother off in Auckland yesterday for his long-awaited award ceremony which then Virgil and the rest of his brothers had to miss because of the monsoon in the remains of Bangladesh yet again.

Virgil had been adamant that Alan not miss the event and had dumped him at his hotel which conveniently held Brandon as well. Security hadn’t been happy but Alan had been climbing the walls since the incident with Kayo. Virgil understood and talked Scott and Kayo down, giving his brother the space.

And trusting in Brie, Alan’s security specialist.

The award was for a video game design. Alan had spent quite some time putting his little Indie game together and it had become a hit in a very short period. Virgil was so proud.

His little bro deserved a little fame all of his own.

“What’s wrong?”

John wouldn’t be contacting him at 4am if there wasn’t something wrong.

“I’m calling in the debt from your first art show.”

Virgil’s eyes widened and he shot to his feet. “What? What happened?”

“You can’t tell Scott.”

“Fine! Tell me what happened and where I am needed!” He headed towards the door.

“Take Two, but leave her at the airport and pod out for minimum disturbance. Brief you enroute.”

Virgil was halfway to the hangers and his auxillary launch chute. “FAB.”

Two was in the air before John would tell him anything. During that time, every scenario that could possibly be linked to his blasted first art exhibition raced through his head.

It had been a low point in his life. College and his rainbow of hair colours and multiple piercings as he tried to discover who he was, struggling to conquer demons of his own. He’d fallen into the dark side of the college scene for all of two weeks before John dropped in unexpectedly; and Virgil had the shame of his little brother having to pick him off the floor because Virgil’s ‘friends’ thought it might be funny to ‘celebrate’ his exhibition.

It had to have been the shortest trip into the college drug scene ever. Virgil still had the scars from the piercings. Shortly after that, he had switched from art college to engineering.

His hair had been black ever since.

And no one but John knew of the incident.

Damn.

The dots connected.

“Aw, hell, Alan.”

Two roared into Aotearoan airspace and he was given clearance to land. He was of two minds whether to take the pod or grab a car. But he was still on call and as far as the family knew he was on a simple rescue…

“It will be a dud callout. Act grumpy when you get back.”

“You’re going to take flack for that.”

“Not the first time, Virgil. Go get our little brother.”

It took further clearance to launch into Auckland’s airspace, but John handled it smoothly and Virgil was quickly darting over rooftops and skyscrapers to reach the hotel.

“You might want to hurry.”

John’s tone had Virgil landing the dragonfly quietly on the roof of the hotel and jumping out, medkit in hand. Everything was quiet and oddly un-emergency-like.

The rooftop door unlatched as he approached and Virgil was darting down the stairwell into the hotel. Fortunately, he didn’t have to go far. Perk of always renting out the penthouse.

The door to his brother’s suite opened before he could reach it, but this time it wasn’t John’s doing. Brandon, worry on his face, darted out into the hallway. The moment he spotted Virgil, he rushed over.

“Hey, Virg, I’m glad you came. Alan, well, he’s cool, you know, but not that kind of cool, maybe?” He was scratching the back of his head as if he had lice. He looked Virgil up and down. “You came in Thunderbird Two? Full-on International Rescue? Oh, god, Scotty is gonna kill me!

“Where is he?”

Virgil hurried past him. Fortunately, he didn’t have to go far. Alan was sprawled on the sofa in the main room, Brie beside him.

“Virg-il!” His little brother swung out an arm in greeting and nearly knocked Brie flying. Her reflexes solved the problem by darting out of the way. “Come and sit with me. Take a load off.”

Virgil blinked and hurried forward, landing beside Alan. An attempt to take his vitals was derailed by Alan suddenly throwing himself at Virgil and wrapping him in a floppy hug. “Virgie, big bro, smotherhen, I am so happy to see you!”

Virgil found himself almost choking with the enthusiasm strangling his neck. His eyes darted to Brandon and the mix of guilt and worry nesting there. A glance at Brie and he made it clear there was going to be one hell of debrief after this.

The security guard swallowed.

That and he hated the name ‘Virgie’.

“Alan, I need you to sit back for a minute. Okay?”

But his little brother was cuddling into Virgil’s shoulder and muttered something of the negative variety complete with a protesting ‘Virgie”.

Brandon was fidgeting where he was standing. “I think, but I don’t know, you know? That Al might have had one of the special pieces of cake.”

Virgil narrowed his eyes at Brandon. “Special?” He knew exactly what the boy meant, but clarity was important in all situations.

“Uh, yeah, I think there might have been some weedcake.”

Alan snuggled up more and muttered ‘I love you’ into Virgil’s uniform.”

“You think?”

“Um, yeah. But! I thought he knew, you know? And then he was super happy and dancing with all the girls, and well…” Brandon’s shoulders drooped. “He was having fun.”

Virgil unconsciously stroked Alan’s back.

“Brie?”

She straightened in her seat. “Mr Tracy began acting erratically.” She swallowed. “When he started taking his clothes off, claiming he was hot, I decided to remove him from public view.”

It was only then Virgil, focussed on the health condition of his brother more than anything else, realised that Alan was dressed in clothes slightly too big for him.

“We managed to get him back to the suite before he became entirely naked, but he did not want to leave the party.”

“Why was he at a party in the first place?”

“Hey, he won an award, bro! For creating the coolest game ever. The boy deserved a celebration.” Brandon tipped his head a little. “I know some people.”

Obviously the wrong people. Virgil frowned and Brandon took a step back.

“Hey, no, man! The people who did this weren’t my friends. Honest!”

Taking a deep breath and forcing himself to focus on Alan rather than the predicament, he used a little muscle to separate himself from his little brother. It was easier than expected as Alan had all but fallen asleep.

“Love you, Virgie.” His eyelids were drooping as Virgil yanked out the mediscanner and ran it over him. As expected, vitals pointed to intoxication, likely from marijuana.

He grabbed a testing kit and, with a swab from his brother’s mouth, activated it. It would take a few moments to do its thing, so he put the test aside to wait for the results. It wasn’t often they needed to test for drugs on a rescue, but since an incident that had nearly cost Scott his life, the tests had been a mandatory part of their kit.

“Virgie? Sing me a song? Like Mom used to sing you?”

“Alan, how are you feeling?”

Alan blinked at him. “Tired. Sing me a song?”

“Why don’t you lie down and rest?”

“I want you to sing.”

Virgil eyed Brandon, but surprisingly found no humour there, only honest worry.

“Okay, Allie, you lie down, rest, and I’ll think of a song.”

“Yay!” His little brother was immediately animated enough to curl up on the sofa, eyes hopefully staring up at Virgil.

The test beeped positive.

Virgil grit his teeth.

Fortunately, it didn’t appear to be a high dose, but he would be happier double checking with a blood test.

First he needed to get his little brother home. “Hey, Allie, want to go for a ride?”

Alan frowned up at him. “Do I get a song as well?”

“Sure.” Virgil packed his kit away, all the time running through possible symptoms for the inevitable crash his brother was likely to go through in the next few hours.

It was going to take so much to keep this hidden from Scott.

Virgil hated hiding things from his big brother.

But there were some things Scott was just better off not knowing.

Alan flung his arms out. “Carry me?”

A blink, but Virgil realised that there was no way he was prepared to let his high little brother attempt to walk out of here.

Without a word, Virgil stood up and scooped his little brother into his arms.

So much lighter than Scott.

Yet so much heavier than he used to be.

Alan once again curled into his shoulder as Virgil shimmied him into a comfortable hold. He eyed both Brandon and Brie. The former hurried to open the door, while Brie jumped up, cut in front of both of them, and peered out into the corridor as the security force she was supposed to be.

Virgil made his way up through the stairs and onto the roof to the dragonfly pod. It took some manoeuvring and heavy lifting to get his brother into the backseat as by this time he was drifting into sleep.

Hopefully sleeping it off would be the cure. In any case, Alan was grounded for the next couple of days at least until the stuff was out of his system.

Climbing into the front seat, he eyed both Brie and Brandon, who had scrambled up the stairs after him. “I expect a confidential report from you, Brie. Brandon, I believe John wants to talk to you again.”

The redhead went white as a sheet. “Okay.”

Brie stood as militarily straight as she could. Virgil was of two minds as to whether Kayo needed to be informed. Would she tell Scott?

That was something that could be discussed with John. Tomorrow.

As he launched the pod skywards, Alan shifted in his seat. “Love you, Virgie.”

Virgil sighed.

“Love you, too, squirt.”

-o-o-o-

[jbarkerstargazer]

Hi!

How about "I would never want to meet them" for the character bingo.

Thanks!

Right as this was asked by @myladykayo I guess I should stick to Thunderbirds Are Go but to be honest the first character to come to mind was Dr Pulaski from season 2 of Star Trek The Next Generation. God I hated her as a kid. How could you be mean to Data? As an adult I just felt that they were trying to shoehorn her character in and none of her interactions with the crew felt real.

Well back to thunderbirds... Its Brandon Berrenger. I know so many of you love him and ‘ship’ him with Alan. WHY! Maybe I could see them together if Alan was gonna work to make him a better person but baby Alan deserves so much more. Look in the 2 too many Brandon episodes, he is shown as the prime example of a self absorbed teen. The whole of High Strung his constant annoyance of Scott is just to get Scott to acknowledge how cool Brandon believes himself to be. Of course Scott doesn’t do this, he has a job to do and isn’t self adsorbed.

And then we come to Avalanche, his constant dismissal of Alan is clearly just jealousy and yes I know he does admit this. But also in that same conversation he admits to being nothing compared to Alan so of course he was never gonna include Alan in a video ever. How could he, he wouldn’t measure up. It would be a sincere moment if it wasn’t for Brandon covering Alans face in the final scene of the episode. Brandon shows no willingness to grow and change, I would never want to meat him. But I would love to see a fic with revenge on Brandon. Maybe in John and EOS hijacking Brandon’s blog and ending each of Brandon’s live streams with an Alan update. The comments would quickly become all about Alan with people begging Brandon to hurry up and finish so they could see what Alan was getting up to.

[thunderbirds-showdown]

Which Thunderbirds Are Go episode is better?

Vote on which episode you think is better. Episode synopses below the cut.

Relic: When a meteor shower is projected to hit the decommissioned Shadow Alpha One Moon base, concern arises with the discovery the base is still inhabited by a lone crew member - Captain Lee Taylor, an old friend of Jeff Tracy. Scott and Alan take Thunderbird 3 on a rescue mission after attempts to warn him fail, but when Scott boards the base, he's surprised to find Taylor attempting to maintain its defence system against meteors. After initial attempts to defend the base against continuing waves of meteors start to fail, both Scott and Taylor are forced to abandon the base to meet Thunderbird 3 at a rendezvous on the moon's surface that is itself threatened by the meteor shower.

High Strung: John detects a high altitude balloon heading straight for the Southern Alps in New Zealand and is unable to contact the pilot. At first everyone suspects that Francois Lemaire is the pilot but when Scott boards the craft he discovers that the pilot is a teenager named Brandon Berrenger, who works for Lemaire. When the balloon crashes on top of a mountain Scott and Brandon have to use Brains' new invention, RAD, to get down.

[whatgaviiformes]

Trick or Treat! :)

It's morning now, so have a small Tracy morning.

His alarm was a drag.

Not as loud as the klaxon, not as inspired as the melody Gordon chose for such a thing, the alarm was a simple annoying sound, made more irritating by the fact it woke him the ugly hours.

Alan rolled onto his back. He wasn't sure what had sent him to the floor this time, but it left him with a crick in his lower back that hadn't been there the day before. He definitely had fallen asleep in the bed last night. Whoops.

As he stood, stretching his muscles, John called in. His second alarm.

"Good. You're up."  His older brother, in typical fashion was multi-tasking, glancing his way but hands moving at quick speeds in the periphery of the holoscreen.

"Barely," he yawned.

"You excited for your visit?"

And suddenly he remembered why he'd set his alarm in the first place. It wasn't for a supply run or a school exam, but an invite from one Brandon Berrenger to "just hang."

Oh Lord! He needed to get ready!

[selene-tempest]

So, this happened today and I don't know if I want to laugh or cry...

Who am I kidding, I can do both and laugh until I cry.

Let me set the scene for you.

Alan and Brandon are chilling on the couch, watching another vloggers live stream. All cute and squished up together, when someone else decided to join them.

Armstrong pranced through the lounge, leapt up onto the back of the couch and tight rope walked his way over to them.

Alan : Hey, Armie, wanna come sit with me? *Pats his lap temptingly*

Armstrong: *watches him with equal parts interest and distain, then ignores him in favour of sniffing Brandon*

Brandon: *stills, not wanting to scare the cat* What's he doing?

Alan: Just checking you out, don't make any sudden movements.

Brandon: *takes him at his word and stiffens as the cat finishes his snuffly inspection and climbs onto his shoulder.*

Armstrong: *slinks his way down Brandon and lands on his lap*

Brandon: *is now a statute* What do I do?

Alan: Just stay quiet and still, no sudden movements and he'll settle down. *Turns back to the live stream having lost interest now he had been rejected*

Armstrong: *turns in circles, pads his thighs, makes some biscuits on his lap then flops down, draping himself across Brandon like a furry, purring rug*

Brandon: Dude. *Vibrates with excitement*

Alan: Congratulations, you have been chosen.

Brandon: *whispering* Can I touch him?

Alan: *glances over* Oh, yeah he likes to be pet.

Brandon: *slowly, tentatively, lifts his hand and begins to gently pet the cat, who stretches out even further, his eyes closed happily.* I'll never move again.

A few hours later.

Brandon: *squirming slightly with a pained look on his face*

Alan: *a bit concerned by the wiggling, shifting, grunting going on next to him* You OK?

"Brandon: Yeah... *shifts a tiny bit more, Huff's out the breath he was holding* No.

Alan: What's up? Are you sick? *Looks over to the other couch where I'm in much the same position as Armie (like owner like pet) legs draped over the hubby, effectively pinning him in place. John cares not, he's totally absorbed in his tablet and whatever he's working on*

Me: * summoned from my phone by the Alan stare, looks over at Brandon who looks like he wants to cry* Bran, babe, what's up? Are you feeling OK? Need me to get Grandma?

Brandon: No!

John: *finally noticing, looks up with a frown*

Brandon: *squirming even more now that everyone is staring at him* I just... *Turns bright red* Man, I gotta pee so bad I think my dicks gonna inflate like a water balloon.

Me: *slaps my hand over my mouth*

John: Then go!

Brandon: I can't move *points at his lap where Armstrong is curled up in a tight ball*

Alan: *nods, we've all been there* Paralysed by cat butt.

John: *rolls his eyes and shoves my legs off his lap. Gets up and stomps over. Slides a hand under the cat, managing the herculean task of not reacting when Brandon yelped and closed his eyes in fear, lifts the cat up and steps back*

Brandon: THANK YOU! *Leaps up and races from the lounge*

John: *drops the cat on my stomach* And people wonder why I don't come home.

[tsarinatorment]

TAG Ask Game

2: Who is your favourite one-off/minor character?

TAG Ask Game

You want me... to pick one?

First instinct is Ned Tedford and Gladys, because he makes me laugh but also while he's comic relief, once you start to think about him... that man is amazing. He's got the qualifications to be space-rated and work solo in space (and off the top of my head, the only other characters we see in the series that do that are John and Lee, I believe), also got the qualifications to operate machinery deep under water, and obviously manages to get into the Military and be given command of his own outpost. Ned might be a joke-character, but he's competent (barring that one mistake he makes in Undercover).

I also adore Brandon, the Lemaires and the Pendergasts, and Kinnear doesn't deserve all the problems he got involved in!

None of those are one-offs, though, so for a one-off I'm going to go with Road Hog!

[tsarisfanfiction]

Thunderbirds please

🌹

This is another untitled one, but I got Scott&Brandon feels a while back and started writing something for the pair of them. It still needs a lot of work, but in the meantime looks a bit like this.

Brandon poured it all out, sniffling and wiping his nose on his sleeve as tears spilled down his face, and Scott stayed.

For every “🌹” i’ll post one random sentence of a random WIP

[inactive-seathesilverlinings]

🐻

[hebuiltfive]

Thundertober Day Five: Pilot

When I first saw this prompt, I immediately thought of something so very vastly different (including a frantic John having to solo pilot TB2 with an injured Virgil in the back), but then this idea came around...

AO3 here

Days: One ~ Two ~ Three ~ Four

Warnings for: Other than mild, brotherly threats that will never come to fruition, nothing this time! There are many ways to get revenge. For John, it’s making Scott sit through a pitch for a documentary about International Rescue. Tagging: @thunder-tober @skymaiden32 @idontknowreallywhy (just going to put it out there that if you want to be tagged in any future Thundertober pieces, or future pieces in general, let me know and I'll tag you too!)

John was a dead man.

Scott had dealt with various media opportunities over the years, the most recent of which was his feature on Brandon Berrenger’s stream a few times, though it had to be said that it wasn’t an opportunity taken out of choice. Scott had also declined various media opportunities, the most recent on that list being an interview whilst he gave the ‘audience’ a house tour of their New York Penthouse.

The point was that Scott had dealt with, declined and heard of many different opportunities over the years, but this one was really taking the biscuit.

He silently made a mental note to flat-out refuse any meetings created by any of his brothers in the near future, especially when one of his brothers was still on the lookout for revenge. He also made a quick note to remind himself that Gordon wasn’t the deadliest when it came to returning a prank.

For now, Scott sat in his seat trying to not look as bored as he felt. He’d spent the last ten minutes zoned out. If there was a quiz at the end of the session, he would have certainly failed. Thank God this wasn’t school.

The meeting was only supposed to run for half-an-hour, yet it had already felt like an age and the two men presenting to him had no indication of stopping anytime soon.

He took a glance down at his empty mug of coffee, wrapping his hands around the now-cold, blue ceramic. As the lead presenter — Fabian — flicked to a new slide, Scott considered how rude it would have been to just up-and-leave midway through the pitch to get himself a fresh mug.

“— and we’ve seen revenue like this for many of our works before. If we implement the same strategy, especially with the marketing, I think we could hit, or maybe even surpass, the numbers from—”

Having zoned out for the majority of the last section, Scott squinted at the numbers shown in front of him, confused about where in the presentation they were currently at. Numbers being viewership numbers… there was a graph showing variables… another graph showing potential profits…

“I think I’ve heard enough.” Scott interrupted unapologetically. His fingers rubbed at his eyes, ignoring the dull thumping at the back of his head. Forget coffee, he needed something stronger.

“You…?” The other presenter — Lewis — began with a hint of uncertainty. “You’ve heard enough?”

“Yes.”

“But… We haven’t even got onto ideas for a schedule or—”

“Gentlemen,” Scott stood as he interrupted Fabian once again, “I am truly grateful for your interest and your offer but I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline.”

The two men in front of him exchanged a bewildered expression. Scott allowed them their silent communication, fiddling with the button on his suit jacket as he fastened it.

In the end, it was Fabian who turned to him, an edge of desperation in his eyes. “Mr. Tracy, we appreciate your time is limited, but if you just let us get to our ideas, maybe we might be able to change your mind?”

Scott tried not to laugh at that suggestion because the truth was that Scott’s mind had already been set the moment he’d first heard about their proposal: a documentary series following International Rescue on their “explosive and heroic” antics. Granted, they weren’t the first production company to offer the family a similar deal, but each time the other companies had been shot down before they had even reached a pitching stage. The only reason these two had got through the door, to try and talk about their ideas for a pilot episode, was because of John.

Scott was considering disowning him after this little tirade. All Scott had done was accidentally share John’s baby photos with a certain fellow astronaut who had caught his brother's eye (and yes, he would stand by the fact it was accidental. Absolutely. One hundred percent, it was totally not on purpose!). Regardless of that, this kind of revenge was unlawful in the rules of brotherly warfare, or at least Scott would so claim.

“I don’t think my mind will change, Fabian.”

The initial idea alone was, for want of a better word, stupid. Lewis had assured him that they’d stage IR’s base somewhere on the US mainland so their real base wouldn’t be traced, that they wouldn’t mention or use any sensitive information that could breach any protocols, but Scott still detested the idea. For a start, International Rescue were not celebrities… Well, technically they were as private individuals, he guessed, but the figures of IR weren’t. Their organisation was created to help people, not to reap the glory. Filming this documentary (if it could even be called that, given the words and ideas thrown around so far) would go against everything International Rescue stood for.

Fabian would not let up, however. “We can skip through all the boring… Let us just show you our plans, just for the pilot?”

Perhaps it was the desperation in the producer’s voice, or maybe it was because Scott was a tiny bit curious as to the ideas these men had for an International Rescue ‘documentary’, but Scott found himself relenting.

He quickly undid his suit button again, sitting back in his seat with a wave of his hand. “You have five minutes, and then this meeting is over.”

Fabian looked relieved, as though he really did think he could change Scott’s mind in such a short amount of time. Scott allowed the delusion, reclining back in the seat as Lewis flicked the slides forward. They landed on the first one, titled Pilot.

“Okay, so. We’ve got to come at them with a bang, right? Everyone knows International Rescue, everyone loves you, but we need to get something that will make them stick with the rest of the show.” Fabian continued his spiel, using over-dramatic hand gestures as though they would further hammer his point home. If the tactic worked on other people, it certainly didn’t on Scott.

Scott tried his hardest to not zone out again.

Lewis took over the pitch. “So, we were thinking, what is the biggest, most exciting way we could open the show, and then it hit us!”

The screen changed to a drawing from a storyboard depicting an oil rig explosion.

Scott sat bolt upright in his seat. “What? You want to stage an oil rig explosion?”

“It wouldn’t be a real one.” Fabian tried to reassure him, hesitant as he was, as though he had realised (a lot faster than his co-presenter) that Scott did not look impressed. Fabian looked, in fact, as though he was second guessing the benefits of asking Scott to give their presentation a second chance.

“We haven’t even shown you the best part!” Before he could be stopped, Lewis continued to the next slide.

Scott’s face paled.

Staring back at him from the screen was a picture of the Hood being led away from a burned out building by GDF personnel. It looked to be taken from a newspaper clipping.

“Him?” Scott attempted to keep a lid on his temper. He failed. “You want to get him involved in this?”

Lewis was clearly the one who lacked brain cells in the duo, as he continued confidently with a wide smile and a nod. “We’re hoping we can strike a deal with him. You know, don’t kill us all and we’ll hand you a hefty pay check? We heard he’s a business man, so—”

Scott didn’t say anything as he stood up and left the meeting room. He definitely didn’t feel like he owed them any more words, let alone an explanation, given what was just proposed. If it hadn’t already been, the answer to whether he would give them the green light would be a resounding no.

He ignored Fabian as he left the room, despite the producers incessant calling after him, and allowed security to deal with escorting the two men from the building. Forget the coffee, forget the something stronger. Scott wanted to douse his eyeballs and wipe the last five minutes from his mind because those men couldn’t have been seriously considering making a deal with The Hood to make a ‘documentary’ series about them?

Plenty of emails pinged through to him throughout the rest of the day, which Scott had assumed would be the case.

Mr. Tracy, please forgive us if—

If you take a look at the attachment, you’ll see various different ideas of—

Call us and we can discuss this further—

Don’t miss out on an opportunity just because—

It was never ending. He ignored every single one of them, forwarding them instead to John with a note to say:

Next time you want revenge, please just add a red shirt to my light coloured laundry or something. Don’t send me to a meeting about some dodgy pilot episode of a stupid documentary some random production company want to make.

[gumnut-logic]

Five times Virgil tackled loopy family members, and one time they tackled him (Part Four)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

The last time I wrote anything for this fic was in January, so I hope you enjoy this continuation despite being so long a wait.

This fic also owes so many thanks to @onereyofstarlight​ @katblu42​  and @gaviiadastra​ as they basically plotted it with me :D It was great fun. Thank you also for the various reading of bits and all your encouragement.

Warnings for drug use.

Many apologies to Allie, sorry Squirt :D

-o-o-o-

It was a persistent beep that tore him from a weird dream of painting Two in Van Gogh style stars and suns. A swipe at his bedside table and something he had no care to identify crashed to the floor.

Blurry eyes found his clock and discovered numbers that shouldn’t exist. Four was one of them and immediately reminded him of Gordon, but it was the AM following it that hurt his brain.

“Virgil?”

John’s voice slapped clarity into his neurons and his body started moving automatically. Before he knew it, he was on his feet and halfway to his bedroom door.

“No incident.” John’s voice was sharp and obviously understanding regarding Virgil’s brain function at this time of the morning.

The words sunk in and Virgil wilted on the spot. “What?” One word was all he had.

“Sit down.”

That sparked worry. “What?”

“Sit down.”

Unable to really do anything else, he did what his brother asked as consciousness slowly seeped into awareness.

“I’ve received a call from Brandon Berrenger.”

“What?”

“Alan attended a party with Brandon last night.”

Virgil blinked slowly. He remembered dropping his little brother off in Auckland yesterday for his long-awaited award ceremony which then Virgil and the rest of his brothers had to miss because of the monsoon in the remains of Bangladesh yet again.

Virgil had been adamant that Alan not miss the event and had dumped him at his hotel which conveniently held Brandon as well. Security hadn’t been happy but Alan had been climbing the walls since the incident with Kayo and Virgil understood and talked Scott and Kayo down, giving his brother the space.

And trusting in Brie, Alan’s security specialist.

The award was for a video game design. Alan had spent quite some time putting his little Indie game together and it had become a hit in a very short period. Virgil was so proud.

His little bro deserved a little fame all of his own.

“What’s wrong?” John wouldn’t be contacting him at 4am if there wasn’t something wrong.

“I’m calling in the debt from your first art show.”

Virgil’s eyes widened and he shot to his feet. “What? What happened?”

“You can’t tell Scott.”

“Fine! Tell me what happened and where I am needed!” He headed towards the door.

“Take Two, but leave her at the airport and pod out for minimum disturbance. Brief you enroute.”

Virgil was halfway to the hangers and his auxillary launch chute. “FAB.”

Two was in the air before John would brief him properly. During that time, every scenario that could possibly be linked to his blasted first art exhibition raced through his head.

It had been a low point in his life. College and his rainbow of hair colours and multiple piercings as he tried to discover who he was, struggling to conquer demons of his own. He’d fallen into the dark side of the college scene all of two weeks before John dropped in unexpectedly and Virgil had the shame of his little brother having to pick him off the floor because Virgil’s ‘friends’ thought it might be funny to ‘celebrate’ his exhibition.

It had to have been the shortest trip into the college drug scene ever. Virgil still had the scars from the piercings. Shortly after that, he had switched from art college to engineering.

His hair had been black ever since.

And no one but John knew of the incident.

Damn.

The dots connected.

“Aw, hell, Alan.”

Two roared into Aotearoan airspace and he was given clearance to land. He was of two minds whether to take the pod or grab a car. But he was still on call and as far as the family knew he was on a simple rescue…

“It will be a dud callout. Act grumpy when you get back.”

“You’re going to take flack for that.”

“Not the first time, Virgil. Go get our little brother.”

It took further clearance to launch into Auckland’s airspace, but John handled it smoothly and Virgil was quickly darting over rooftops and skyscrapers to reach the hotel.

“You might want to hurry.”

John’s tone had Virgil landing the dragonfly quietly on the roof of the hotel and jumping out, medkit in hand. Everything was quiet and oddly un-emergency-like.

The rooftop door unlatched as he approached and Virgil was darting down the stairwell into the hotel. Fortunately, he didn’t have to go far. Perk of always renting out the penthouse.

The door to his brother’s suite opened before he could reach it, but this time it wasn’t John’s doing. Brandon, worry on his face, darted out into the hallway. The moment he spotted Virgil, he rushed over.

“Hey, Virg, I’m glad you came. Alan, well, he’s cool, you know, but not that kind of cool, maybe?” He was scratching the back of his head as if he had lice. He looked Virgil up and down. “You came in Thunderbird Two? Full-on International Rescue? Oh, god, Scotty is gonna kill me!

“Where is he?”

But Virgil was hurrying past him into the room. Fortunately, he didn’t have to go far. Alan was sprawled on the sofa in the main room, Brie beside him.

“Virg-il!” His little brother swung out an arm in greeting and nearly knocked Brie flying. Her reflexes solved the problem by darting out of the way. “Come and sit with me. Take a load off.”

Virgil blinked and hurried forward, landing beside Alan. An attempt to take his vitals was derailed by Alan suddenly throwing himself at Virgil and wrapping him in a floppy hug. “Virgie, big bro, smotherhen, I am so happy to see you!”

Virgil found himself almost choking with the enthusiasm strangling his neck. His eyes darted to Brandon and the mix of guilt and worry nesting there. A glance at Brie and he made it clear there was going to be one hell of debrief after this.

Brie swallowed.

That and he hated the name ‘Virgie’.

“Alan, I need you to sit back for a minute. Okay?”

But his little brother was cuddling into Virgil’s shoulder and muttered something of the negative variety complete with a protesting ‘Virgie”.

Brandon was fidgeting where he was standing. “I think, but I don’t know, you know? That Al might have had one of the special pieces of cake.”

Virgil narrowed his eyes at Brandon. “Special?” He knew exactly what the boy meant, but clarity was important in all situations.

“Uh, yeah, I think there might have been some weedcake.”

Alan snuggled up more and muttered ‘I love you’ into Virgil’s uniform.”

“You think?”

“Um, yeah. But! I thought he knew, you know? And then he was super happy and dancing with all the girls, and well…” Brandon’s shoulders drooped. “He was having fun.”

Virgil unconsciously stroked Alan’s back.

“Brie?”

She straightened in her seat. “Mr Tracy began acting erratically.” She swallowed. “When he started taking his clothes off, claiming he was hot, I decided to remove him from public view.”

It was only then Virgil, focussed on the health condition of his brother more than anything else, realised that Alan was dressed in clothes slightly too big for him.

“We managed to get him back to the suite before he became entirely naked, but he did not want to leave the party.”

“Why was he at a party in the first place?”

“Hey, he won an award, bro! For creating the coolest game ever. The boy deserved a celebration.” Brandon tipped his head a little. “I know some people.”

Obviously the wrong people. Virgil frowned and Brandon took a step back.

“Hey, no, man! The people who did this weren’t my friends. Honest!”

Taking a deep breath and forcing himself to focus on Alan rather than the predicament, he used a little muscle to separate himself from his little brother. It was easier than expected as Alan had all but fallen asleep.

“Love you, Virgie.” His eyelids were drooping as Virgil yanked out the mediscanner and ran it over him. As expected, vitals pointed to intoxication, likely from marijuana.

He grabbed a testing kit and, with a swab from his brother’s mouth, activated it. It would take a few moments to do its thing, so he put the test aside to wait for the results. It wasn’t often they needed to test for drugs on a rescue, but since an incident that had nearly cost Scott his life, the tests had been a mandatory part of their kit.

“Virgie? Sing me a song? Like Mom used to sing you?”

“Alan, how are you feeling?”

Alan blinked at him. “Tired. Sing me a song?”

“Why don’t you lie down and rest?”

“I want you to sing.”

Virgil eyed Brandon, but surprisingly found no humour there, only honest worry.

“Okay, Allie, you lie down, rest, and I’ll think of a song.”

“Yay!” His little brother was immediately animated enough to curl up on the sofa, eyes hopefully staring up at Virgil.

The test beeped positive.

Virgil grit his teeth.

Fortunately, it didn’t appear to be a high dose, but he would be happier double checking with a blood test.

First he needed to get his little brother home. “Hey, Allie, want to go for a ride?”

Alan frowned up at him. “Do I get a song as well?”

“Sure.” Virgil packed his kit away, all the time running through possible symptoms for the inevitable crash his brother was likely to go through in the next few hours.

It was going to take so much to keep this hidden from Scott.

Virgil hated hiding things from his big brother.

But there were some things Scott was just better off not knowing.

Alan flung his arms out. “Carry me?”

A blink, but Virgil realised that there was no way he was prepared to let his high little brother attempt to walk out of here.

Without a word, Virgil stood up and scooped his little brother into his arms.

So much lighter than Scott.

Yet so much heavier than he used to be.

Alan once again curled into his shoulder as Virgil shimmied him into a comfortable hold. He eyed both Brandon and Brie. The former hurried to open the door, while Brie jumped up and cut in front of both of them and peered out into the corridor as the security force she was supposed to be.

Virgil made his way up through the stairs and onto the roof to the dragonfly pod. It took some manoeuvring and heavy lifting to get his brother into the backseat as by this time he was drifting into sleep.

Hopefully sleeping it off would be the cure. In any case, Alan was grounded for the next couple of days at least until the stuff was out of his system.

Climbing into the front seat, he eyed both Brie and Brandon, who had scrambled up the stairs after him. “I expect a confidential report from you, Brie. Brandon, I believe John wants to talk to you again.”

The redhead went white as a sheet. “Okay.”

Brie stood as militarily straight as she could. Virgil was of two minds as to whether Kayo needed to be informed. Would she tell Scott?

That was something that could be discussed with John. Tomorrow.

As he launched the pod skywards, Alan shifted in his seat. “Love you, Virgie.”

Virgil sighed.

“Love you, too, squirt.”

-o-o-o-

TBC

[maximumsaladexpert]

This is a trend now

Have some Brandon and Born this way

Enjoy

[cg29]

My TAG rewatch with screenshot sharing continues. This time we have S2′s High Strung - Or in other words the ‘Scott is just done!’ episode  😂

45 pics in total and couldn't sacrifice any so sharing first 15 then rest are below the cut... Enjoy.😃

SCREENSHOTS CONTINUES BELOW THE CUT

[justactsupernatural]

Fictional Kiss Prompt: SpaceBears Edition #4

4.  Throwing their arms around the other person, holding them close while they kiss.

It was their anniversary, not the first one they had but the first one they celebrated outside Tracy Island. Alan had asked Scott for a few days off to spend together in small cabin in Alaska, and the commander of IR agreed as long as they didn’t do anything stupid that could get them hurt or arrested (they were both public figures with reputations and responsibilities Alan, you represent International Rescue wherever you go, and Brandon represents you).

So, after a long week of rescues and meetings with the Lemaires, they managed to run away together for a romantic weekend in the freezing, cold and frigidly lovely Alaska.

  ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 They had been snowboarding all day long, taking advantage of the empty slopes and lack of people (given the season it wasn’t really a surprise). Thankfully, no one appeared to be aware of their presence there and everything had been peaceful so far.

Going to their cabin and taking turns in the hot shower to warm up their bodies, the two of them ordered dinner through room service and watched some reruns of an old TV show that the holoprojector was playing.

Turning down to look at his boyfriend, looking just about ready to fall asleep, Brandon tightened his hold around the blond and pulled him closer, feeling Alan’s arms tighten their hold around him as well.

Kissing the vlogger softly, the blond closed his eyes and relaxed against the warmth that Brandon’s body offered, completely ignoring the other half of the king-sized bed and sticking to his boyfriend’s side.

Falling asleep on his bedroom floor would never be this comfortable.

[selene-tempest]

Brandon: Do you think bugs are born knowing they can walk up walls or do they just do it by accident one day and be like 'yoooooo'?

Alan: Dude?

Brandon: Dude!

Scott: Dude alert.