#thunderbird station

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1962 Ford Thunderbird Phantom Station Wagon

[flight-to-mars]

Someone put the top of an Oldmobile Vista Cruiser station wagon onto a 1962 Ford Thunderbird and the result is beautiful.

[moonwatchuniverse]

January 23... remembering NASA astronaut William Pogue In 1966, USAF test pilot William “Bill” Pogue was selected as NASA astronaut in group 5 and started training for the Apollo lunar & Skylab space station missions. Between November 1973 and February 1974, Pogue was pilot for NASA’s Skylab 4 space station mission which lasted 84 days 1 hour. During that mission, both SL-4 commander Gerald Carr (Movado Datachron HS360 automatic) and William Pogue (Seiko 6139-6005 automatic) were the first astronauts to wear an automatic chronograph in space! However, as in this 1966 portrait, there’re several photos showing William Pogue clearly wearing his gold Oyster Perpetual Date pilot watch, even during desert survival training. (Photo: NASA)

[tanushakyrano]

thunderbirds universe tumblr simulator

0 notes

🌺 topiary-tina1793 Follow

literally cannot believe these assholes from international rescue like i get people are dying or whatever but they literally just torched my garden w their massive ass engines...killed my prize-winning begonias too like what am i supposed to enter in the village fair next week??????

594 notes

🧭 goldiniums Follow

LITERALLY JUST ON SECURITY AT THE OLD ABANDONED AIRPORT NEAR MY TOWN AND TB1 SHOWS UP WAHT THR HELL IS GOIN ON

🎛 glorbulardefenceforce Follow

@identifying-planes-in-posts

✈️ identifying-planes-in-posts Follow

Fireflash

169.8k notes

🌹 diabolicalroses

hear me out. that hood guy was kinda fine

🌚 wingdings496

rose i swear to god you have GOT to stop thirsting after real life international criminals

🌹 diabolicalroses

HIS VOICE WAS SO HOT THO

🌚 wingdings496

I DONT CARE IF YOU HAVE A THING FOR GUYS IN MASKS HE LITERALLY BLACKMAILED THE ENTIRE WORLD

31 notes

👠 lady-penelope-updates

Lady Penelope is at a charity auction today! The stream is currently live on twitch.tv/creightonwardofficial.

👠 lady-penelope-updates

Looks like a new guest has just appeared, and they seem to know Lady P! Any bets on who it is?

👠 lady-penelope-updates

um

23.7k notes

🚀 thunderbirds-are-gone

🍏 jollygreengiant Follow

you're literally insane if you don't vote for tb2

🌌 alpha-centauri

tb5 is a SPACE station it's in SPACE you can LIVE in SPACE on tb5‼️ this is a tb5 positivity post vote for thunderbird five rn

♠️ ace-space-case

um excuse me where is thunderbird shadow🤨

🚀 thunderbirds-are-gone

only reason i didn't include shadow is cus we don't really know anything about her! i felt it was a little unfair when we know so much about the capabilities of all the other ships and we don't even know what shadow looks like yet

♠️ ace-space-case

boooooooooo :(

586 notes

🏙 international-rescue-official deactivated21082060

i just want scott tracy to rail me :(

🚀 thunderbirds-are-gone

oh my god

496.8k notes

[seat-safety-switch]

The humble potato is man’s greatest ally against the forces of nature. This calorie-packed fistful of carbohydrates has been specifically bred by our ancestors to offer an easy solution to needing to eat. You can throw these suckers out your car while hauling the mail down the highway, and they’ll grow. Right there in the drainage ditch, year after year, forever, slowly taking over the biosphere.

Or at least that’s what I was told. A couple years ago, I decided to try and grow my own potatoes. Those billionaire turbo-fash ruling our grocery stores from their orbiting space stations had raised prices on staples one too many times, and it was my turn to take the mouldy Yukon Golds at the back of my fridge and bury them in the Earth. Like my proud forebears, I too would become a subsistence farmer, hewing food out of the very earth itself.

Friends, this manic urge lasted for about five seconds. And then I went back inside to try and find the loose float bowl for a Honda Monkey’s carb (it was in my cutlery drawer.) I forgot about it all summer, and then the next fall. In the middle of the night in November, I briefly remembered my spud project, but I soon forgot again. Then, the next fall, I had to move a front k-frame from a Thunderbird out of that corner of the yard, in the vain hope that the rat-infested 302 mounted to it was still a viable enough core to net me a Craigslist trade for a primo Mopar thermostat housing. And that’s where I saw it. Poking through the Earth were the leaves and flowers of my potato plant, struggling to reach sunlight.

I didn’t want to dig it up. I was afraid. I didn’t want to see that I had somehow failed at the anyone-can-do-it, super-easy introductory gardening project. And yet – I had visitors coming. Visitors from the newspaper. Perhaps they would want a baked potato. They would think glowingly of me and the profile would not immediately open with a story about my degenerate behaviour and generally erratic coot-like ideology. The fame might make people turn up to see my hoard of shit-box cars, at which point I could sneak out and remove their differentials while they weren’t looking. With a new resolve, I dug up the potatoes using an old fender liner, and washed them using the neighbour’s hose. They were perfect.

I’d like to tell you that my dinner with the newspaperman went well. Unfortunately, I didn’t have quite enough time to cook the potatoes, and especially not to boil off all the various solvents, oils, and heavy metals that had accreted in my soil (already marked for “reclamation by some other sucker” by the original owners) over the years. Sometimes I forget that not everyone has become as inured to the contaminants as I have. Weak stomachs and all that.

On the plus side, I had a handy new hole in my yard in which to dispose of the evidence. In a couple years, I’ll be able to wear their clothes without anyone becoming too suspicious – they were about my size, and it’ll save me a few bucks at the thrift store. They say gardening takes patience, after all.

[emtb319]

My submission for day 1 of Fishtank week. Not sure now much I like it, but I'm sharing anyway.

Day 1 - Wingman

‘Gords, it’s about time you did something,’ Virgil said as Gordon tried to walk away from him.

‘Virgil, not now.  Ok?’  Gordon was not ready for this conversation.  This wasn’t the place nor the time.  He had to think, had to plan.  Virgil caught up to him and swung him around by his shoulders.

‘If not now, when?’, he asked.  ‘It’s obvious that you two love each other and want to be together, but you won’t make the move.’  Gordon sighed.

‘You don’t get it, do you?’  He waited for Virgil to respond, but he didn’t.  ‘Love only goes so far.  What about our homes, our families, our jobs, huh?  Don’t you get it?’  This time Virgil sighed.

‘You think that the next step means her leaving England forever or you the island forever, and neither of you like those options.’  Gordon paused, then he nodded his head.

‘What kind of wingman would I be if I didn’t think of any of that?’

‘Wait what?,’ said Gordon confused.

‘Gordon, what if I told you that Thunderbird 4 could be stationed in England if you want.’

‘How?  We need 2 to transport her.’

‘We need my bird to transport her with a fully stocked pod.  Brains and I have been working on something for you.’  Virgil took out a tablet from his jacket and opened up some schematics for Gordon to see.  ‘Now, do you get it?  You don’t have to give up anything.  You can still man your bird.  You’d be able to fly her anywhere too, and if Penny decides that she wants to relocate to the island instead,’ Virgil paused, bringing up another file on his tablet, ‘we can do this.  There’s plenty of room on the island for everyone.  You guys could have your own home.’  Gordon took the tablet from Virgil’s hands to look it all over.

‘Virgil, I don’t know what to say.’

‘Here,’ Virgil pushed a small box into his hand.  ‘Go get your lady and bring me back a sister in law.’  With that, he shoved Gordon in Penelope’s general direction and watched him walk towards her. 

[gumnut-logic]

Alexander Sweetapple and the Volcanic Island (Part 2)

Sweetapple Series Alexander Sweetapple and the Volcanic Island - Part 1 | Part 2

This one was actually written a while ago, but it wasn't working, so I finally sat down tonight and ironed it out a bit better. Well, I hope it's better because it hasn't been read by anyone and it is nearly midnight here.

Many thanks to @onereyofstarlight for the original reread which needed the editing and partial re-write ::hugs tight:: and also to @womble1 for writing part one and being a wonderful support for this series.

Also to all of you who have given your time to support Mr Sweetapple. With out you guys, he would not be the person he is.

The first bit of this might seem familiar as I posted it as a WIP Wednesday at some point, probably on the wrong day of the week.

Again, this is male/male romance, so if that isn't your thing, this isn't your fic.

I hope you enjoy these 2200-odd words.

-o-o-o-

“This is the Comms Room.”

Virgil put a gentle hand on Alex’s lower back to direct him out of the elevator and around a corner.

“This is where we brief and debrief missions.”

The room was huge. Massive glass doors opened onto a triangular balcony giving a fantastic view of the Island’s caldera.

Alex frowned at the glass doors, which were also triangular. He could see the track in the floor that they obviously followed to slide open and closed, but due to their triangular shape they wouldn’t be able to open on a straight plain. The glass must retreat down into the wooden floor somehow.

He built possible solutions in his head, throwing out unsatisfactory calculations, one after the other.

“Alex?”

“Huh?”

Virgil was frowning at him and Alex realised he was several steps closer to the doors than he had been…and standing in the middle of the room building door designs in his head.

“I’m okay.” Maybe a little stunned by…well, everything…but okay. Maybe he was just grasping at the familiar?

That hand appeared in the small of his back again.

He quite liked it being there.

“This is my brother John.”

Startled, Alex turned and came face to face with the one Tracy brother he had yet to meet. Red hair, blue and gold uniform…

“Hello, Alex. It is very nice to finally meet you.” Mr John Tracy held out a hand.

Oh, wow. “You’re the Voice Who Answers?”

“Yes.”

“The Eye in the Sky?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Thunderbird Five!” Oh my god!

“That would be me.”

Alex turned to Virgil. “This is amazing! I knew he was real! I knew it!”

Virgil had a very odd expression on his face.

Alex would analyse that later because he was talking to Thunderbird Five! He turned back to John to find a smirk on the man’s face.

“The rumours of my non-existence have been greatly exaggerated.”

A laugh burst out of Alex.

Now Virgil was frowning at him.

“Well, it looks like you’ve been out-classed this time, Virgil.” Mr Scott Tracy, no hologram required, appeared from behind the grinning astronaut, one arm resting across John’s shoulders, with a smile all of his own.

Alex’s eyes widened as he realised exactly what he had been saying, how it might appear, and, oh god, what had he done?!

It was only the soft hand at the small off his back that held him in place. The hand that slipped further around him and drew him gently closer to Virgil.

That soft and deep voice. “I’m not worried. John lives to be mysterious.”

“Hey!”

“What? Admit it, you love living on a super-secret space station.” Virgil’s arm was very warm.

“Yeah, but-“

Scott Tracy rolled his eyes in such a goofy manner, Alex was questioning if he was actually the same professional super god he had always thought him to be. “Face it, Johnny, he’s got you there.”

“Don’t call me ‘Johnny’.”

Scott squeezed him gently. “You’ll always be Johnny to me. Especially when you think I don’t know about half the things you get up to up there.”

John frowned. “What?”

But Scott was nodding. “Yes, I do know about the discos and the light displays.” He tapped his nose. “A little bird told me.”

“Well, the little bird and I will be having words later.”

Virgil half whispered in Alex’s ear. “Scott is toast.”

Commanding blue eyes were darting between two brothers. “In any case, welcome to Tracy Island, Alex.”

“Uh, thank you. Uh, for having me…and mum.”

His mother was off somewhere with Mrs Tracy. The two of them appeared to be embarking on a friendship that had Alex just a little terrified.

Mr Tracy’s eyes darted ever so slightly in Virgil’s direction before returning to Alex. “You are most definitely welcome.”

-o-o-o-

Mr Tracy and John excused themselves after that and retreated to a desk on the far side of the room.

Virgil returned his hand to Alex’s back and led him down into the sunken lounge, offering him a seat.

“Sorry about that.” Alex wanted to crawl under the couch cushions.

“About what? John?”

Alex nodded.

Virgil snorted. “You made his day. Living in space is his preferred place but out of sight is out of mind and sometimes he can be forgotten.” A sigh and Virgil looked over at his red-haired brother. “It doesn’t hurt to remind him of how valued he is.”

“He lives up there?”

Dark eyes turned back to him. “Yeah.” His voice was wistful and Alex received the distinct impression that Virgil preferred John stay on terra firma.

“You don’t like him being up there?”

“I like it that he’s happy.”

Alex reached over and slipped his hand into Virgil’s, interlacing his strong fingers with his own and squeezing just a little.

Virgil looked at him and smiled, leaning towards Alex, enough for their shoulders and arms to touch.

For a moment, it was very, very nice.

But then Virgil looked down and frowned “Alex, there’s something you need to know.”

Alex immediately backed off. “I’m sorry-“

Virgil’s eyes widened. “No. No, this…” He held up their clasped hands, not letting Alex pull away. “…this, is wonderful.” He reached out with his other hand and nudged Alex closer, drawing their foreheads together gently. “Trust me on that.”

A blush rose in Alex’s cheeks. “Okay.” It would take some getting used to.

Though that hand on the back of his neck teasing the short hairs at the base of his skull - that he could really get used to.

It was very distracting.

“Alex, I need to tell you about Māhia.”

His heart stopped.

“What about Māhia?”

“We took some damage in the earthquake.”

Alex pulled away. “What? Are they okay?”

The hand moved to Alex’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “They’re fine. Everyone is fine. There were a few minor injuries, but everyone is safe.”

“What happened?”

“One of our buildings collapsed-“

“Which one? Who was hurt?”

“The main lab building, but everyone is okay.”

His heart was racing. “Erica?”

“Scott pulled her out. Some bruising and a broken arm.”

He let out a breath. Thank god. “She kicked me out. Said I should go to Gisborne with my mother for lunch.”

“We know. Scott may want to talk to you about updating your location when leaving the premises.”

There was something in Virgil’s eyes. “Oh god, you thought I was in a collapsed building?” A ragged breath. “I’m so sorry, I-“

“Alex, it’s okay. It was an error. We will learn from the error.” The ghost of a smile. “You were in a collapsed building. Just not that one.”

And Virgil had been looking for him. Alex reached up and brushed the hair above Virgil’s ear, cupping the side of his face. “I am so sorry.”

“It’s done. You’re safe, and that’s all that matters.” But Virgil was leaning into his hand.

Alex reached out and drew him into a full-on hug. “I am sorry, Virgil.”

Those strong arms wrapped around Alex and for a moment everything was perfect again.

But his thoughts fell back to Māhia.

As if reading his mind, Virgil pulled away and caught his eyes. “We can contact Erica, if you like?”

Alex nodded. Virgil turned towards his two brothers over by the desk. The two brothers Alex had forgotten were in the room.

With this amount of repeated blushing, his circulation system was getting a good workout.

John nodded when Virgil asked him to put them in contact with Erica. And Alex was immediately distracted by the pink head of hair that sprung up in the centre of the lounge.

The head spun in his direction. “Alex! Oh, thank god! Are you okay? Oh! Of course, you’re okay, because I saw you and…Oh! Hi, Virgil!” A knowing smile spread across her face. “Congratulations, I hope.”

Alex stared at her. “What? How do you-? Are you okay? Virgil said you were hurt?”

She waved an arm in plaster and Alex’s eyes widened. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it. But you, I hear there have been developments.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

Alex felt the blush to end all blushes creep up from his toes, conquer his face and take on his hair follicles. No doubt his hair was as red as that of Thunderbird Five.

Thunderbird Five!

Wait…

“What did you hear, Erry?”

“Hear, saw, it’s everywhere. You two are the talk of the planet. Virgil, you know how to kiss a boy. I’m almost jealous.” There was admiration in her eyes.

“Erica!” It was impossible to be more embarrassed.

“What? Check the nets. You can’t tell me the sight of you two reuniting during a major disaster, like that, doesn’t pull the heart strings. I had tears of joy in my eyes, really. Fred had to get me a tissue.”

“Fred?”

“Oh, um, yeah, he’s been helping me.” She looked away a moment, then held up her injured arm. “You know, with this.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Anyway, this isn’t about me, it’s about you and your torrid love affair with a Thunderbird.”

“What?” This time it was Virgil with the outrage.

Erica immediately backed off. “Sorry, Mr Tracy.” But her trepidation didn’t last long. “Just stirring his pot. He needs regular agitation or he petrifies.”

Alex glared at her.

She sobered. “Honestly, Sweet-pie, I’m really happy for you. Happy that you’re safe, and happy that…well, you know.”

Alex looked at his feet and shifted where he sat. Erica might niggle and nag him, but she really did do it all from a kind heart. “Thank you, Erry. I’m glad you are safe, too.”

“Erica?” Mr Tracy stepped down into the lounge. “I hope you and your team are following the media blackout protocol on this matter.”

Erica stared at him for a solid moment.

Uh-oh.

“Mr Tracy, how could you think that our team would ever let Alex down like that! Our lips are sealed. We at Tracy Industries save people, not throw them to the wolves.” A pair of pink eyebrows frowned fit to get themselves unemployed.

“Erica-“

Mr Tracy held up a hand. “It’s okay, Alex.” He turned back to the outraged mass of holographic pink hair. “I’m glad to hear that we are on the same page, Ms Stoltz.”

She straightened a little more in her hologram. “Always, Mr Tracy. You can depend on us.”

“I know. Thank you, Erica.” Mr Tracy turned to look at Alex as if to ask something, but didn’t say anything, He turned back to Erica. “You take the time you need to heal. We will welcome you back when you are ready.”

She nodded before eyeing Alex again. “Sweet-pie, let him look after you. You say you’re okay, but I’ve seen less shades of red and white on a barber’s pole.”

“Erry-“

“He’s under our care, Erica. We’re keeping an eye on him.” Virgil’s arm tightened around him a little more.

“Good. We need him in one piece to finish the Siliwrap project. Now we have to dig most of it out from under the remains of the labs…” Her eyes widened, targeting Virgil. “You did tell him, didn’t you?”

“I know about the labs, Erry.” It hadn’t really sunk in. Thank goodness for automatic backups. Whoever had designed the Tracy Industries computer network deserved an award.

“Don’t you worry, Sweet-pie. Fred has recovery underway. At this rate we’ll have new labs before you make it back.” Her smile returned and targeted Virgil, obvious in the hint that Alex’s stay would be prolonged.

“That’s good to hear, Erica.” Virgil’s tone was polite and perhaps a little amused. “We will keep in touch. Get better soon. Tracy Island out.”

And she was gone

The room seemed suddenly so quiet in her absence. But then he realised that both Mr Tracy and John were no longer in the room either. Where did they go?

“She cares very much about you.”

Huh? “Erry? Yeah, she’s a bit of a lifesaver.”

“I can see that.” Virgil was smiling.

Alex found himself smiling too. But then…

“She said we were on the nets.”

Virgil’s smile disappeared. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

“About what?”

A sigh and Virgil pulled away a bit, reaching for a remote control. He fiddled for a moment and a scene flickered up where Erica had been moments before.

A holographic Virgil was walking across devastated ground, beelining for a holographic version of Alex, who hadn’t noticed his approach.

The expression on holographic Virgil’s face was pure shock.

Alex’s twin caught sight of him. The joy on his own face was a thing from fairytales or the latest romcom.

And then they were kissing.

Wow. Erica hadn’t been wrong. They hadn’t held back.

It was enough to get him hot under his collar.

Virgil was still holding his hand and squeezed gently.

“There are various versions online. This is one of the better ones. We’re working on curtailing its spread, but it has escaped containment. John’s on it, but for the moment, we’re trending.” There was apology in those dark eyes.

Alex turned back to the holoprojector where another version of ‘The Thunderbird Kiss’ began playing. Comments were scrolling past the image, along with the number of likes still climbing despite already being in the millions.

Oh, hell.

-o-o-o-

TBC?

[tagsecretsanta]

From @alexthefly

From @alexthefly to @gaviiadastra

FUN AND GAMES NIGHT

The prompts:

A Tracy Island games night;

Something’s cooking in the kitchen;

Put the mess in domestic.

Rating: teen

Content warnings:

Moderate whump (fracture, soft tissue injuries);

Alcohol throughout (no drunkenness);

Flirting, including innuendo and one sex mention;

One instance of swearing.

Other warnings: a bit of Pen & Ink included in this one; hope that's ok.

**********

A familiar combination of thrusters, VTOL and a slightly-delayed sonic boom signalled Thunderbird One's return to the island. Gordon immediately felt his heart-rate leap a hundred beats.

“They’re here! Action stations! Alan, fluff the cushions; Virgil, get the food; Kayo…”

Whatever task Gordon had been about to assign to her fizzled away in a blaze of epic side-eye.

“...just kick back and relax, ok? No biggie.”

He backed away a few steps just to be safe, but his sister seemed satisfied, pointedly putting her feet back up on the coffee table before returning to her romance book. 

Any other day the temptation to comment on her choice of reading material would be far too much to bear, however hazardous to his health such a comment might be, but today he had other things occupying his mind.

“What can I do?” asked John, making to get up just as Virgil - already on his feet - pushed him firmly back down onto the sofa.

“You can stay right there, Mister,” he said, voice full-medic stern. “You know the rules. First night down from Five means no unnecessary moving around.”

John rolled his eyes and muttered something in Russian, but thankfully stayed where he was. 

Gordon flashed the big man a grateful smile on his way past to the kitchen. The last thing he needed right now was a certified space-case causing a danger to himself and others.

Not tonight.

“Shall I get some tunes ready?” Alan had already pulled his tablet out from behind a pillow and started tapping. “I’ve got a great playlist I’ve been working o-”

“Is it video game music?” asked Kayo, not even looking up.

“Yeah?”

“No!” The chorus was unanimous.

“Aww, but it’s not like normal video games. It’s this really cool mix of techno and-”

“NO!”

Alan pouted. “Oh, so I guess you'd all rather listen to Fish-boy’s sea shanties and Europop?”

“Hey!”

Gordon was all ready to defend his frankly impeccable musical taste, but John was clearly not in a mood for bickering.

“EOS, could you put on playlist P3 please?”

“Of course John.”

And with that the room was filled with gentle contemporary music - upbeat but not too raucous, neither intrusive nor dull - ideal for an evening with company. Obviously it was no Wellerman, but it wasn’t half bad. 

“Would you like some ambient lighting as well?”

“Not right now, thankyou EOS” replied John, ruffling Alan’s hair as he sat back down with a huff. “Is everything okay up there? Any calls? I could dial in if you need me?”

“Absolutely not,” said Kayo, an edge of menace in her voice. “You’re staying right where you are. Grandma’s orders.”

John scowled.

“Really John, there’s no need,” continued EOS. “I’m perfectly capable of handling things for one evening.”

Gordon noted the slight drop of his big brother’s shoulders but decided not to tug on that thread just now. Gravity always did a number on John the first night down, and it had been known to make him grumpy and homesick.

Virgil wandered back in carrying a big bucket filled with ice water, bottles of beer, prosecco, and cans of soda. With every step another puddle of ice water sloshed over the side and onto the floor.

“Allie, get a cloth would you? And could someone get some glasses out please? I’m kinda weighed down here.”

Kayo and Alan each grabbed one of John’s shoulders, using them to both pin him down and haul themselves up. The older man started to object, but was distracted by a ping on Alan’s tablet beside him.

“Scott’s on his way up now.”

Oh god oh god oh god. 

Gordon had the sudden and inexplicable urge to dunk his head in the bucket Virgil had just set down, but instead decided to busy himself with robustly re-plumping the chair pillows while bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.

“So everything’s ready, right? Place is tidy, drinks are out, games are stacked, food’s in hand… Are we all set? Should I open a window? It’s kinda hot in here.” Am I sweating? “Maybe I should go change-”

“Breathe Gordon.” soothed Virgil, resting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. The weight of it felt good. Calming. “This isn’t a state dinner; just a normal games night like we’ve done a thousand times before. Nothing to get worked up about.”

Gordon scoffed. “Except it’s not though, is it? ‘Cos those other times it was just us, not-”

There was a ding and the elevator doors slid open.

“Right through here Lady Penelope.” Scott Tracy, suave as always, smoothly waved their guest into the room. “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable and we’ll get started.”

“Thankyou Scott. And sorry again that you had to come and collect me…”

And there she was. Penelope.

Perfection personified. The epitome of class and grace. A beautiful angel with a heart of gold and a spine of steel, whose voice was a song and whose smile could reduce whole armies to-

“Gordon, what on earth are you doing to that cushion?”

Huh?

He looked down at his hands to see the pillow he’d been fluffing, now scrunched and twisted over and over as if he were trying to throttle the poor thing. As he stared down trying to compute the mess of fabric and stuffing it suddenly disappeared from his hands, and then something was shoving him in the back, causing him to stumble forwards over his own feet. He recovered just in time to spot Virgil throwing the battered scatter cushion back behind the sofa, grinning from ear to ear.

Oh, there will be vengeance…

Right now though she was looking at him and oh god he needed to say something.

“Uh…”

Quick as you like, Tracy.

“Er…” His throat made a strange sort of rasping sound.

Any words will do!

“Lady Penelope!” he squeaked. “Welcome in! Come here! I mean come in. Welcome here. You’re welcome here. To our home I mean. This home. Where we…”

He glanced over and caught sight of Kayo, face in hand, shaking her head behind the temporary bar they’d set up for the evening.

“Drink!” he exclaimed, just a little too loudly. “Can I… Would you like a drink?”

The small, knowing smile she gave him was all at once thrilling and completely mortifying; a glorious little needle of light straight through his poor, mortal little heart.

“That would be wonderful. Thankyou Gordon.”

Cheeks burning, he slumped off to the bar and a consolatory shoulder nudge from Kayo while Scott showed Penelope to the seating area. Virgil scooted around them and disappeared back down to the kitchen, throwing him a sympathetic look on the way.

After getting their guest settled, Scott casually folded himself down on the sofa next to her. “So how come Parker didn’t join us tonight? He was more than welcome.”

Gordon loudly shovelled a scoopful of ice into a long glass and then reached for the schnapps.

Stupid Never-flustered Always-has-the-right-words Scott Tracy…

“He wasn’t feeling too good I’m afraid. He said something about Lilian’s casserole disagreeing with him, but to be honest I suspect it was probably more to do with the FA cup final showing on BBC.”

Cranberry, orange wedge…

Kayo cleared her throat softly. “So what drink was it you wanted, Lady Penelope?”

Gordon’s brain short-circuited, vodka in hand. 

What.. drink?

He replayed the conversation - such as it had been - through again in his head.

…Dammit, he forgot to ask! He’d been so flummoxed he’d ended up mixing on autopilot.

“Oh, anything really. Whatever you’re all having.” Penelope looked over curiously. “What’s that you have there, Gordon?”

Aww hell.

“It’s a… umm… Sex on the Beach.”

Now it was John’s turn to facepalm while Alan snickered from behind his tablet. Even Scott snorted before passing it off with a hasty clear of the throat. 

Lady Penelope, however, held Gordon’s gaze, expression inscrutable, then ever so slowly arched one perfectly coiffured eyebrow.

“Well, that sounds interesting. But perhaps just some wine for now and we’ll see how we get on.”

There was a squeak beside him, and Kayo ducked down behind the bar giggling. Alan snort-coughed and had to be hit on the back by John, who was at least trying - somewhat painfully - to keep a straight face. Scott just grinned at him.

Gordon stood there, stunned into inertia, though he wasn’t quite sure if it was his own mortification holding him back or the slight hint of mischief in Penelope’s eye, almost as if…

Nope, he was definitely imagining it.

Scott looked from one to the other for a moment then, chuckling to himself, jumped to his feet and strode over to the bar.

“C’mon Fish,” he said quietly, grabbing a champagne flute off the bar top and flashing his best, most reassuring, big brother smile. “Let’s go choose a game and get this thing started.”

Gordon nodded, dumbfounded. He grabbed his ridiculous but perfectly mixed drink, complete with little novelty umbrella, and trudged over to the seating area.

Alan was already giving the assembled group a run-down of the various choices lined up for the evening. “We’ve got all your classics like backgammon, chess, battleships, guess who…”

“Those are all for two people, Allie,” said Scott, grabbing himself a beer and pouring Penelope her wine. “How about something we can all play?”

“Clue then?”

“That needs six. We’ve got seven.”

“I don’t mind sitting out the first round if you need me to,” Penelope said gently, accepting her drink.

“Not a chance,” said John firmly. “You’re our guest.”

Alan looked around, confused. “Wait, who’s the seventh?” 

Kayo passed him a soda from the bucket. 

“Uh, Virgil(?)”

“Oh yeah.”

““Oh yeah” he says,” came Virgil’s voice over the ‘comms. “How soon I’m forgotten(!)”

“Sorry Virg!” Alan slurped his soda loudly, earning him a frown from both Scott and Gordon. “Guess I’m just too hungry to think. Where’s the food at?”

“It’s coming. Just waiting for the vol-au-vents to puff up.”

Alan nearly spat out his soda. 

“Vol-au-vents?! What happened to our wings and chi- Oww!” 

A pillow flew across the room and caught Alan right upside the head. He got back up and glared at Gordon, who was already gearing up for another throw. 

“Whatcha do that for?”

Penelope looked from one to the other, realisation dawning. 

“I do hope you didn’t go to any trouble, Virgil. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Not at all. Really, it’s all in hand. I’ll be up in a few.” 

And with that the comms blinked off.

John swayed forward in his seat. “Y’know, I might go give him a hand…”

“Sit down, John!” ordered Scott, clearly done with them all by this point.

John remained there for a second, possibly weighing up the odds of making a run for it, then sat back down, arms folded definitely-not-at-all petulantly. 

“...Fine.”

“What about Monopoly?” suggested Penelope, clearly trying to change the subject. “That can have up to eight players.”

Kayo shook her head. 

“Can’t.”

“Oh?”

“We’ve been banned,” Alan piped up. “Grandma said so.”

A pause. “...I see.”

“Well that doesn’t matter, does it?” urged Gordon, keen to get everyone playing before the whole evening went up in smoke. “Grandma can’t stop us from all the way in Gran Roca.”

“You sure about that, Gords?” asked Kayo, eyebrow raised.

He laughed nervously. “Heh…”

“In any case,” interjected Scott, “did you forget why Grandma banned it?”

“...Good point.”

The Great Tracy Anti-capitalist Revolution of 2056. In Gordon’s defence Scott had started it, buying up all those hotels like a dragon hoarding gold…

Alan held up a bunch of VR headsets. “How about something more modern? I’ve got Samurai Slasher, Twilight Ridge, Malibu Steade’s Epic Quest…?”

Scott frowned. “Not on John's first night down, Squirt.”

“Oh yeah. Gotcha.”

Gordon nodded. Way too much potential for injury.

“Ugh!” John threw his hands in the air. “You guys are like a flock of mother hens. I’m fine! Look…” He rolled to his feet before anybody could tell him not to. “Nice and steady. No wobbles, no stumbles. Nothing. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to the bathroom.”

“Uh, Johnny…”

“John darling...”

“Nope, I’m not listening,” he barked, striding purposely out of the seating area towards the stairwell, “Comfort breaks are necessary, so I don't care what you s-”

“John!”

“Food’s here!”

“Look out!”

There was an “oof” and a crash as spaceman, heavy-lifter and a platter of freshly-made vol-au-vents collided in a mess of limbs and pastry before tumbling out of sight down the kitchen stairs.

“John!”

“Virgil!”

Everyone was on their feet as a series of thuds, grunts, clatters and clangs echoed from the stairway, followed by one very plaintive “Oww.”

The place immediately erupted into total uproar. Ever the level head, Kayo immediately ran to get the first aid kit and the medi-scanner. Meanwhile Scott - always the quickest to leap into action - practically flew down the stairs after the pair of them in a frenzy of big brotherly concern, with Alan, Gordon and Penelope following closely behind. 

The two fallers themselves were actually relatively uninjured in the circumstances. Both were a mess of bruises and grazes and smooshed pastry, but at least they were fully conscious and coherent enough to be thoroughly embarrassed by the whole thing. John had twisted his ankle and had a walnut-sized bump on his forehead, and Virgil (who had slid most of the way down the steps backwards) ended up with a bruised tailbone, strained shoulder and one broken finger.  

The kitchen, unfortunately, hadn’t fared quite so well. Total disaster was the most accurate description. 

Best they could figure, the metal serving platter Virgil had been carrying had reached the ground floor airborne, bounced off the doorframe and had landed right in the middle of the countertop, sending plates, bowls, jars and spoons scattering and smashing all over the place. The situation wasn’t helped any when MAX, having heard the commotion, came speeding into the kitchen brandishing a mop and broom, skidded on a stray patch of vol-au-vent filling, slammed into the fridge and sent ice cubes from the dispenser shooting across the floor, then got confused and started spinning on the spot, taking out the stand mixer and two cupboard doors in the process.

Eventually they managed to get things back on a somewhat even keel. After a thorough checking over and an even more thorough mothering from Big Bro, both casualties were helped to their feet and safely installed back on the sofas with strict instructions not. To. Move. 

Penelope kept herself busy fetching drinks and ice packs for the patients and generally trying to soothe frayed nerves while Gordon, Alan and Kayo set to work fixing the kitchen back up, but after twenty minutes Scott - aware of the time and the presence of their guest - called everyone back to try to enjoy what was left of the evening.

And so instead of vol-au-vents, chips and dips were retrieved from various stashes in various rooms, drinks were replenished (non-alcoholic for the two injured parties, eliciting low grumbles from one and shrug of “stupid gravity” from the other) and in lieu of further disagreements a couple of packs of cards was produced. 

The rest of the evening was spent enjoying rounds of Go Fish, rummy, and playing poker for bottle caps, with plenty of jokes, stories and good conversation enjoyed in-between. Towards the end of the night - and to Gordon’s delight - Penelope even taught them a game from her university days called Shithead.

Finally, after most of the others had said their goodnights and wandered off to their rooms, Gordon and Penelope sat side-by-side on the sofa finishing their drinks alone, save for Alan who was snoring softly on the floor beside them.

Penelope swirled the last of her drink with her straw. “Do you think we should move him? That doesn’t look very comfortable…”

Gordon shrugged. “Nah, that’s how he normally sleeps. It’s a teenager thing,” he added, chewing on his orange slice garnish.

Penelope beamed. “I really have had a lovely time tonight. It’s been the most terrific fun, injuries notwithstanding of course.” 

Her eyes seemed to sparkle in the warm mood lighting that EOS had finally persuaded John to put on an hour or so earlier.

“And this drink of yours really is delicious by the way.”

Gordon laughed.

“See? I knew you’d like it. Maybe one day I’ll open up a bar of my own right on the beach and serve them out of coconut shells.”

He removed the little paper umbrella from his glass and started opening and closing it like he was in a tiny Hollywood musical.

She laughed. “Well if tonight’s anything to go by, any bar of yours would never be dull!”

Gordon grinned and presented the tiny decoration to her with a flourish, all hint of his earlier embarrassment gone. He was here, she was here, and it was all just… right.

She accepted it with a smile.

Really though Gordon, it’s been the most wonderful night.” 

There was a pause while she twirled the umbrella in her hand thoughtfully.

“You know, it’s not always easy to relax around other people, especially in my line of work.” She sighed. “So many functions, so many people, but it can all sometimes feel just a little bit…” 

She shook her head. 

“I’m not making any sense. It’s just that being here with you all, everything feels so… easy; so fun.”

Gordon leaned forwards, willing her to go on. It was like a wall somewhere was shifting, and he could finally catch a small glimpse of what was actually going on behind that perfect smile of hers.

She looked up at him, eyes shining.

“I suppose what I’m trying to say is, thankyou so much for inviting me.”

A breath. A moment that seemed to stretch out between them, soft and fragile.

“Thankyou for coming.”

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

The next morning, as Penny yawned and stretched out in the extra-soft, gloriously comfortable guest bed, luxuriating in the distinct novelty of waking up with nowhere particular she needed to be, her eye fell on the little yellow umbrella laying, just as she'd left it, on top of the nightstand beside her.

She smiled, her stomach fluttering.

So fun…

From downstairs there was a sudden commotion and a voice:

“WHAT IN GOD’S NAME HAVE YOU KIDS DONE TO MY KITCHEN?!”

[skymaiden32]

A Different Life

Read on AO3 here

Fandom: Thunderbirds

Tagging: @dragonoffantasyandreality @thundergeek59 @janetm74 @katblu42 @liseylou @amistrio @uniwolfcorn @idontknowreallywhy (Please ask if you would like to get alerts when I update or post new stories.)

Thundertober Day 5: Pilot

Scott’s memories of his last day in the Air Force.

Continuity: TAG

------

Scott breathed a sigh of relief when he was finally able to collapse onto the hard mattress of his bunk, careful not to injure his broken arm as he fell any further. His bunkmate, Alex Birch, sat on a nearby chair, raised an eyebrow. “How’d it go with the boss?” 

“I don’t know, Alex…” He sighed, running his uninjured hand down his tired face. “I don’t know what to make of all of this. I just feel so…” He paused, trying to find the right phrase. “...jumbled still.” 

It had been just a week since Scott’s miraculous return from the brink of death in Bereznik. Not long enough, if you asked Alex’s opinion. Between Scott losing Greg Hodge, his navigator, in the crash, being held prisoner and tortured, and somehow crossing the wilderness back to base after escaping on his own without help…

It was too much. “No wonder you feel that way.” Alex commented, not ashamed of the sadness in his tone. “You’ve been through hell and back.” He chuckled humourlessly. “I’d be a bit jumbled too.”

Scott sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “The Commander outright ordered me to leave today. Take a break. Said he wouldn’t be surprised if I quit completely. Even offered to give me an honourable discharge if I did.”

“And?” Alex probed, turning his chair so he was facing his friend on the bunk. He immediately took notice of how exhausted Scott looked. “What will you do? After your leave I mean?”

His friend sat up slowly, staring ahead at the wall. “I… I don’t know.” He admitted. “A part of me wants to call it quits and stay safe for my family,” Scott explained. “But the other part of me loves flying more than anything.” He finally looked over at his friend. “Even after all of that, I can’t let it go just like that.”

“I know, Ace…” Alex smiled sympathetically, reverting to the squad nicknames for some sense of normality. He hummed. “Doesn’t your Dad’s company specialise in aerospace? Maybe you could get a job as a test pilot there?”

For the first time in what felt like years, Scott smiled. “The whole reason I signed up to the USAF in the first place was to avoid leaning on the family name, Spins.” He chuckled.

“I know,” Alex smirked, laughing. “Just throwing the idea out there.” He sobered up, looking seriously to his friend now. “But whatever choice you make, whatever path you’re on, I’m sure it’ll be your true calling in life.”

“Yeah…” Scott replied. “I guess it will be.”

------

He broke out of the memory, now staring focussed at what had reminded him of that fateful day. The base he had once been stationed at, now closed down due to ground subsidence in the area. International Rescue had been called to get to some officers who had been swallowed up by the very earth beneath their feet. On his right, Virgil stood faithfully, looking worriedly between Scott and the dilapidated base. “Are you okay, Scott?”

“Yeah.” He breathed out, a little too quiet for his brother to hear. “Yeah, I’m okay.” He repeated, louder this time. “The rescue’s over now, anyway…”

“Then,” Virgil began, puzzled. “Why are we still here?”

“The Commander of the base is Alex Birch, right?”

“According to John, yeah…” The pilot of Thunderbird 2 answered, before his eyes widened in realisation, watching the crowd of officers part to reveal the Commander himself, walking towards them. “Wait, wasn’t he in your-”

“My squadron? Yep.” Scott replied. “He was also the one who helped me the most after…” He paused, drawing himself back from those painful memories. “You know…” Virgil knew. He always did.

Alex stopped in front of the two brothers, giving Scott a respectful salute. One that Scott was all too happy to return. “Commander Tracy.”

“Commander Birch.” Scott replied. “I’d like you to meet Virgil, my brother.”

Alex’s eyes lit up in recognition as he shook Virgil’s hand. “Ah, so you’re the one I’d heard so much about from Ace here back in the day.”

Virgil chuckled. “In that case, I hope I lived up to expectations.”

“More than that.” Birch smiled at him. “You knocked them out of the park with that rescue. I can see Scott’s heroism truly is a family trait.” The grin turned melancholy. “You keep taking good care of him, you hear?”

“As much as I can at least” The younger of the two Tracy’s laughed. “He’s always going off somewhere…”

“Hey!” Scott frowned, but the little twinkle in his eyes still remained. “I don’t go AWOL that often.”

“Sure you don’t.” Alex commented.

“I don’t believe it either.” Virgil agreed. Scott groaned. “I’ll leave you two to chat for a bit while I finish packing up.” And just like that, Virgil was off back to Thunderbird 2, leaving the two men to catch up. Scott watched his brother go, smiling in fondness.

Alex’s voice broke into his thoughts. “I told you so.”

Scott looked at his old friend questioningly, although he already knew exactly what he was talking about. “What do you mean?”

“That you’d find your calling…”

Thunderbird 1 caught his gaze, gleaming a bright silver in the setting sun, a symbol of everything Scott Tracy was and what he worked for.“I did, didn’t I?” Scott answered, looking between his brother, his ship, and Alex. “It sure is a different life, but it’s one I wouldn’t change for the world.”

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1962 Ford Thunderbird Phantom Station Wagon

[anthemode]

The life in space

CAUTION: Crossover (Thunderbirds X Star Trek TNG)

I think John and Data can be good friends...

"Mr. Tracy, don't you feel lonely or sad in the space station?"

"Sometimes. But I have beloved family and friends. Friends around me, maybe feeling like me―countless shining stars."

[vintagelasvegas]

Parking lot at the Thunderbird c. 1963

‘57 Olds Super 88, ‘62 Cadillac Sedan de Ville, ‘60/61 Chevy C10. Bank of Nevada on the other side of Las Vegas Blvd is the former KENO-AM radio station.

[thunderbirds-showdown]

Which Thunderbirds Are Go episode is better?

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

Icarus: While the members of International Rescue attend a prestigious global airshow, a test pilot unveils an ultra-fast superjet.

Runaway: A high-speed test train on a Japanese Maglev line suddenly goes out of control, and is in danger of running into the back of a passenger train. Only Brains can stop it, so he sets out with Scott on Thunderbird 1 to board the train. But in doing so, he discovers the train is under the control of an Artificial Intelligence program, which John determines is playing a game. Scott and Brains must find a way of stopping it before it crashes into a station terminal.

[phading]

WIP Alert

WIP Alert … and it’s not even Wednesday!

I haven’t posted a fic for a while, and I have three (hopefully good) excuses. I’ve been dividing my time between these WIPs that are all tugging at my heartstrings ...

STARSTUCK

It was one of those heart-stopping moments when your mind realizes you have totally and absolutely fucked up so bad that your life from this point forward will be unalterably changed. Alan’s throat choked on a swallow that ended up being a gasp.

“Alan!” John’s shout broke through the fog. “Scott and Gordon have already responded! Get a stretcher and a medkit down there. Move it!”

Alan moved it, familiar routines and following orders overriding the need to think. The infirmary loomed, dimly lit and ominous around him as he hastily prepped a stretcher, loading it with standard emergency gear. Reality didn’t hit until the elevator doors split open at the refuelling hangar level.

The alarm was abruptly silenced, no doubt by John, but the residual echo continued to ring in Alan’s ears. The air smelled of fuel and singed metal, cut with the almost fresh scent of flame-retardant foam. His beautiful, red bird was tilted to the side in her silo, rail docks and thrusters damaged, a wing pylon bent out of shape and so many scrapes in her hull that it looked like she was bleeding.

…

CASPIAN (Nutty's Marks and Wings AU)

“Ditch the protocols, Virg, just get as much distance between you and Five as you can. I’m not certain I can avoid a collision.”

Virgil didn’t know what they were about to collide with, nor did he need to. What he did know was that John was doing everything in his power to keep it from happening.

“Understood,” he growled, reluctantly turning his back on his brother and heading for the nearest suit-up station where he found John’s partner closing the last fastening on one of Five’s emergency suits. They were designed to fit all of the brothers, and since Caspian was even leaner than John he was almost lost in the baggy cloud of space-rated neoprene.

Virgil snatched a helmet, settled it onto Caspian’s suit latches and clicked it into place. “C’mon, let’s go!” He grabbed a fistful of loose suit and powered both of them towards the airlock.

“No!” Caspian writhed and twisted in his grip. “Let go of me! I’m not leaving John!”

Virgil half-plowed, half-swam forward, his expression a rigid mask of fear for his brother’s safety. “John’s doing his best to avoid a collision,” he asserted, trying to convince not only Caspian but himself. “We need to launch Thunderbird 3, keep her safe. If this goes sideways John’s gonna need our help.”

…

STARS BEYOND SCIENCE

“We’re done with that one, Gordy,” John said softly, absently watching a fuzzy sun tint the early morning sky pink and orange outside the window. “Hemingway’s a little bit out there, but what did you think?”

He should have been accustomed to the lack of response by now, but John could feel the salty sting of tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.

“I know you’ve probably done Moby-Dick, bro, but I think it’s worth reading more than once, don’t you? Let’s give it a go.” The gentle suggestion went unnoticed but Gordon’s chest still rose and fell in perfect rhythm as John read the first 27 chapters without pausing.

It was Day 4.

…

[sailing-on-a-puddle]

A FishTank Day Out

Loosely using the prompt at the Aquarium, but since that has passed I’ll also include brothers relaxing because they don’t get a day off very often!

This is based on a day out my family and I went on last month, although we never saw any Thunderbirds. The venue was the Lakeside and Haverthwaite railway which is at the bottom of Lake Windermere in the Lake District, UK, and there happens to be an aquarium at the lakeside end of the line.

I thought at the time it would make a great Virgil and Gordon day out, so for FishTank week I’ve turned it into a fic with some pictures at the end.

_____________________________

Thunderbird Two flew in over the top of the lakes and mountains. Unfortunately, there was low cloud and only the top of the mountains were visible from above. Nevertheless, Gordon had brought up a holographic image of the lakes below that he couldn’t see and was excitedly telling Virgil that only Bassenthwaite Lake was technically a lake.

Virgil smiled about how excited Gordon was. They lived on an island, they were used to being surrounded by water. But this water was different and full of different aquatic life. He’d known Gordon would do this, and thankfully the holographic map of the physical geography didn’t show the places he’d planned for them to go.

Virgil landed Two in a field several miles away and configured a pod to take to the car park. He’d learned many years ago that taking Two to car parks in tourist destinations wasn’t popular. When on rescues you could park anywhere you liked, but when you turned up with it as mode of transport there was lots of moaning about noise, rocket boosters setting fire to things and taking up 50 parking spaces.

A couple of minutes and they arrived at the car park.

“Er, Virgil, we’re not at the lake yet.”

“Nope.”

Gordon looked round to see the two rail lines behind him, and then he realised what the various sheds and buildings around him were.

“Virgil, have you brought me to another steam train?”

“You didn’t complain about the last one.”

“Well, that had the Harry Potter station, and there’s lakes, Virgil. We could be there, now, doing water things. I’m a FISH, Virg, and you’ve brought me here instead.”

Virgil smiled at him . “All in good time, we’re going to the lake, which is your thing, on a lovely piece of engineering, which is my thing.”

Right on cue, the train came in. Gordon was then subject to a full running commentary about how the wonders of this particular locomotive and railway setup. Something about side and saddle tanks maybe? Aren’t saddles on horses? His brother loved this technology that was over 100 years old, and although Gordon didn’t really understand the difference beyond this locomotive was red and the last one was black, he was delighted to see his engineering brother so happy.

Gordon had to admit it all looked very atmospheric on this cloudy chilly day, especially when the locomotive emerged from the tunnel to run round the train. Virgil took a photo with the intention of sketching it later.

They boarded the train and it set off on the journey, slowly making it’s way through the countryside and woods. Twenty minutes later the train pulled into the Lakeside station, and when Gordon got off his excitement reached fever pitch.

“Virgil! VIRGIL! There’s an aquarium!”

“Yup.”

“Can we go? Can we go? Pleeeeease?”

“If I said no, would you listen anyway?”

“Lalala, I can’t hear you and we’re going to the aquarium!”

Virgil just laughed at him, put his arm round his shoulder and they both skipped to the aquarium door. If anybody did stare at either of them they didn’t notice, they were used to that anyway.

Now the roles from earlier were reversed and Gordon was talking continuously about everything in the tanks. Half the time he didn’t even need to read the signs, he knew exactly what it was. Something about an Axolotl? Was that something Alan talked about from Minecraft? Virgil did read the signs and listen, but mostly thought about how all the colours and shapes and took photos. He’d sketch, or maybe paint those later too.

After a couple of hours or so, when Gordon wanted to go round the aquarium for the fourth time to see what else he could see Virgil left him to it. He went and sat on a bench outside facing the lake, picking up a coffee for himself and some neon slush thing for Gordon from the cafe on the way.

A boat was just leaving the jetty, and the lake looked very atmospheric with the low cloud hanging in the cool air. Virgil once again regretted not bringing his art supplies but took a picture anyway.

He realised he’d been humming and daydreaming when his thoughts were interrupted by Gordon jumping over the back of the bench with a brightly coloured soft toy fish from the shop.

“You done?”

“I think they’re closing. I was the last one in. Are we going home now?”

“Yup. Thought we’d get some pizza to eat on the way home.”

“Sounds good.”

They picked their seat on the waiting train to take them back to the pod. Virgil produced some cake that he’d also picked up from the café, and Gordon’s eyes lit up and he started to eat it in a way that would have incurred Grandma Tracy’s wrath.

“Virgil?”

“Mmm?”

“Thanks for bringing me today.”

“You’re welcome, thank you for coming with me.”

_________________

Here's some of the pictures Virgil took, which are actually mine. Virgil would be a better photographer than me!

And a bonus one, the black locomotive in the Harry Potter Station Gordon references (Goathland on the North Yorkshire Moors Railway, photographed last year)