Theoretically, this will be a collection; I may continue to add to it over time. This may be a mix of TOS and TAG 2015, and who knows, maybe it'll end up with some movie-verse too. It's largely meant to be humorous, but there will almost certainly be some whumping here and there.

I do not own the Thunderbirds, and I am making no profit from this story.

Introduction

Scott leaned a little closer to the mirror, frowning, trying to turn his head at just the right angle to see the side of his hair.

"Looking for gray hairs?" an amused voice asked.

Scott jumped and turned to glare at the figure leaning casually against the door frame. "Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" he grumbled.

Virgil grinned. "The door was open." He nodded toward Scott's hair. "So, do you have any?"

"Do you?" Scott retorted.

Virgil's grin faded slightly. He changed the subject slightly. "Crazy kids. Just wait till they have kids of their own – or become uncles, or something. Then they'll understand what they've put us through."

Scott quirked an eyebrow, amused. "They?" he repeated. "As if you've never done anything to give me gray hairs?"

Virgil crossed his arms over his chest. "Oh yeah? Name one time!" Oops, totally the wrong thing to say, judging by the look of pure satisfaction that crossed Scott's face.

"I'd have a tough time naming just one," Scott told him smugly. "Remember when…"

Chapter One

"Okay, I'm headed down to do some maintenance," Virgil said, walking toward the painting of the rocket.

"You're seriously going to take the chute just to do maintenance?" Scott asked, rolling his eyes.

Virgil grinned at him, his eyes sparkling. "You're just jealous because my ride's way cooler than yours," he retorted.

"Your ride's not cool – it's crazy," Scott muttered. "That flip at the end…what if you missed the handlebars?"

Virgil shrugged, stepping onto the plate. "Haven't missed them yet, and I don't plan to, so we're all good." He was tipping as he spoke, and his final words echoed slightly as he slid out of sight.

Scott just shook his head and went back to the datapad he was studying.

A minute later, Brains wandered in, MAX trailing at his heels like a giant metal puppy. "Scott, have you, uh, seen Virgil?" the scientist asked.

Scott gestured with his thumb. "Down the chute to do some maintenance on Two," he said briefly, focused on what he was reading.

Brains' horrified gasp quickly got his attention, though. He looked up to see that the scientist had turned as white as a sheet.

"Down the…down the chute?" he repeated faintly.

"Yeah, what's wrong with that?" Scott asked warily, his big brother senses kicking into high gear, the datapad now forgotten in his hands.

Brains flew into a panic. "Scott, I moved Th-Thunderbird Two out onto the runway a few minutes ago to get started on the maintenance!"

Before Brains had finished speaking, Scott was flinging aside the datapad and racing for the next best way down to Two's hangar – Gordon's elevator. In moments, he was descending, shuffling his feet impatiently at the slow speed compared to his own elevator.

He was shoving his way through the elevator door before it had even fully opened. Surveying the hangar, he let his breath out in a relieved huff – there was no broken body crumpled on the hard concrete floor. His heart rate began to slow down a little – but just a little, because he knew what the only other option was. Sure enough, when he tilted his head way, way back, there was his brother, clinging to the handlebars at the end of his chute ride, dangling at a truly terrifying height above the floor.

Virgil's deep voice echoed in the huge, empty hangar. "Hiya, Scott! Nice view from up here!"

Scott could hear the strain in his brother's voice despite the attempt at a light tone. Virgil was still in his civvies, so he must have turned off the automated device that put his uniform on him – which meant that he had no grappling pack or any other means to get himself to safety. Interestingly, the handlebars had not retracted back into the chute like they normally did; Brains must have installed some sort of weight sensor on them.

"Hang on, Virgil!" Scott called up, looking around wildly for something to use to get to his brother. Ladders…didn't they usually have ladders everywhere? Why couldn't he find one now?

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Virgil growled. "C'mon, Scott – my hands are starting to sweat!"

"Where do you keep the ladders?" Scott bellowed frantically.

"Ladders? How are ladders going to help? Use the hydraulic cargo elevator!"

"Right!" Scott raced over to the big, lumbering machine and fired it up, guiding it underneath Virgil. A motor whirred and the stabilizing feet slowly dropped down into place. Only then would the safeguards on the machine allow Scott to begin raising the platform.

"Scott!" Virgil called, voice tinged with desperation.

Scott looked up, and his heart stopped as he saw one of Virgil's hands slip free.

With a supreme effort, Virgil lunged back up and caught hold of the bar again, but he was panting, and now the fingers of both hands were beginning to slip.

The platform was twenty feet below Virgil…fifteen…ten. Virgil looked down at it – and let go. He landed hard in the center and tumbled against the railing.

Scott was suddenly very glad that their cargo elevator had a railing – he'd seen some that didn't. He set the controls to reverse, bringing Virgil back down to the ground level at a sedate pace.

Scott climbed up onto the machine before it had stopped moving. Virgil was lying sprawled across the platform, catching his breath, his arms limp at his sides. He turned his head to look at Scott.

"Where did Two go?" he asked pathetically.

Scott, hanging over the railing, gestured to the huge bay door. "Brains took her out to the runway. You okay?"

Virgil sat up and shook out his arms, grimacing. "I'm fine, although my arms might be a bit longer now."

Scott offered a hand and pulled Virgil up to his feet. "Well, I have to say, you really know how to give a guy gray hairs!"

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Virgil scowled. "You had to let it slip to Gordon and Alan – they were calling me 'Gorilla Arms' for weeks!"

Scott chuckled before he could stop himself, but wiped the smile from his face when Virgil clenched his fist threateningly.

Virgil's own smile peeked through after a moment, though. "Well, maybe you got a couple gray hairs from that incident, but it definitely doesn't account for all that salt and pepper." He ignored Scott's glare. "Remember when…"