April Fool
Disclaimer: I do not own the Thunderbirds, International Rescue or the Tracy boys. If I did I'd be too busy with "other" stuff to write fan fiction!
This story is a figment of my imagination. Any similarities to other stories are purely coincidental and are a result of great minds thinking alike.
My grateful thanks to Tikatu for allowing me to use her idea of the codenames.
April Fool
After the successful completion another mission, Virgil, having wandered over to Mobile Control for a quick, informal debrief with Scott, turned and headed back to Thunderbird Two. Halfway across the dusty field he caught sight of her, standing proudly high on her telescopic legs, pod door opened welcomingly. He took another few steps, stopped suddenly in mid-stride, as his mouth hit the deck. He smacked his hand against his wrist communicator and took off toward his 'bird.
"Omicron! What the hell have you done to my 'bird?"
At Mobile Control, Scott groaned and wiped his hand over his face as a muffled "Oh shit!" was heard over the radio. He looked over to the Thunderbird in question, just in time to see Gordon dash up the ramp and into the open pod. Virgil was hot on his heels, sprinting toward his beloved 'bird and his recalcitrant brother.
Scott put his hands on his hips and looked skyward, praying to the heavens above for patience as the local rescue workers nearby laughed.
"Tell me you didn't hear that," he asked them, knowing the answer he wanted was too much to hope for.
"Sorry mate," Fire chief Bertolo smirked. "Didn't realise you guys would have one of them as well! Almost makes you seem human!"
Scott hit a button, severing the audio from inside the pod where Virgil's normally calm voice was raised in anger amid Gordon's pleas for mercy.
"Honest! I was gonna wash it off."
Another switch lit up imperiously on the MC control panel and John's voice came over the airwaves. "Mobile Control from Thunderbird 5, come in please."
"This is Mobile Control, go ahead Epsilon."
"What's going on down there? It sounds like someone's about to get killed and it doesn't need a rocket scientist to figure out who. What's he done this time?"
Scott paused for a second then sighed.
"You know how Omicron's nickname for Thunderbird Two is 'the big green beetle'?"
"Yeah. What's he done?"
"It might be easier if I just show you," Scott said and swivelled the camera on the top consol around so it was pointing toward Thunderbird Two's new paint job. The giant green transporter was now adorned with eyes and antennae above her cockpit windows and folded legs drawn on the housing behind the ramjet air intakes.
A bark of laughter exploded from the speakers.
"Oh geez, Anomala albopilosa," John laughed.
"A what?" Scott frowned and scratched his head. "Can you repeat that in English?"
"A scarab beetle. It's pretty clever actually."
"Huh. I thought it was a June bug."
"Wrong colouring for a June bug, they generally have stripes on their wings."
"Right. And you wonder why no-one ever wants to play Trivial Pursuit with you."
"Boy, Omicron's going to catch it this time."
"Yeah. Wait until we get back to base. After Delta's finished killing him, the boss will have him brought back to life just so he can kill him himself! Then he'll want to know why I didn't tell him first."
"Should make for an interesting debriefing session, I'm looking forward to it."
"I'm sure you are. And the fact that you're safely ensconced in Thunderbird Five and out of the action wouldn't have anything to do with it I suppose?" Scott's lips twitched at the fake smug look on John's face.
"Never entered my mind for a second. You have to admit though, it's pretty funny. He's really outdone himself this time."
"Yeah," Scott allowed a smile to soften the grim set on his face. "Just so long as it's not my 'bird.
