Author's notes: A brand new year, and a little dalliance into a brand new fandom for me. I've always enjoyed the original Thunderbirds, but I'll be honest in saying that I've never watched it closely and don't know it very well at all. However, I've well and truly found myself engrossed by the new Thunderbirds Are Go series and, for the first time in a while, have been inspired to write a bit of fanfiction.
This is intended to be my hatstand, a place to hang my ideas and short stories as I get back into the swing of writing again. I haven't proof-read anything, so please excuse the mistakes and general clumsiness.
And lastly, season's greetings to you all, even if they are a bit belated!
Ficlet 1:
Tracy Traditions
She didn't dream of a white Christmas.
They'd never been a common occurrence in her lifetime anyway, although the vast majority had been spent in the cooler climes of the northern hemisphere.
And the significantly less humid.
Still, the stifling heat wasn't going to stop her from keeping up with tradition; certain things had to be maintained in life, now more than ever.
Like the table, already set in the lounge, resplendent with its long, red tablecloth and the sweet-smelling pine wreaths wrapped around the three glittery, white candlesticks in the centre. Their flames would bring bittersweet memories, she knew, but it couldn't be any other way.
There would always be a place at their table for the lost.
And there, in the corner beside the piano, the Christmas tree; its beautiful blue and white baubles glittering in the sunlight, the silver tinsel dancing in the gentle summer breeze. It didn't matter that it wasn't the more triangular – well, fir-tree shaped – tree from back home, it was pretty nonetheless. And really, it wouldn't do having the Christmas tree dying on them, simply because it couldn't cope with the weather.
Brightly wrapped presents sat around the base of the tree for each of her boys, lovingly chosen and wrapped with care. They would never know the grief the wrapping process caused her every year; honestly, one would think that in the year 2060 someone could have invented sticky tape that a) didn't have ends that seemingly disappeared to form some kind of crazy, unbreakable ring of frustration; b) didn't split as you tried to pick at said end and; c) didn't stick to everything that it wasn't supposed to stick to, including itself.
Not to mention wrapping paper that didn't tear at the corners!
Grandma Tracy glanced up at the clock as the automated cooker beeped loudly, announcing that their turkey was ready. She really hated the damn thing on so many levels, but even she recognised that her cooking skills weren't up to the requirements of preparing Christmas dinner. Yet.
She'd get there one day; if she could successfully raise a family, and then raise Jeff's boys in her old age, then she could definitely master a turkey, with a bit of practice. In fact, it would make a good new year's resolution…
The chatter of the boys' comms had formed the soundtrack to her day; from one disaster to another they had been kept busy across the globe, saving lives wherever they went. She was grateful that, despite the numerous callouts, the day had been relatively straightforward…but there was still plenty of time for something to go wrong.
There'd been too many near misses this year; she couldn't help but worry.
But in truth, she wouldn't have had it any other way. It made her proud to see them continuing their Father's incredibly selfless work, sacrificing so much for the sake of others. It didn't matter that they would be late for dinner.
It didn't matter that Scott would return angry at the selfishness and sheer stupidity of others. Or that that Virgil and Gordon would return tired and dirty, and so desperate for showers that if anyone got in their way they'd likely lose a limb.
It didn't matter that Alan would return with such unbridled excitement that it betrayed the fear he'd really faced out there alone.
And it didn't matter that John would be the last to return, ensuring the safe return of all of his brothers before making his journey down to Earth and the gravity he found so crippling.
Because that in itself was a Tracy family Christmas tradition.
Grandma Tracy couldn't help but smile as she covered the turkey with foil and wiped sweat from her brow. No, she didn't dream of a white Christmas, but cooler one would be nice all the same.
Fin.