This is a lot of works for one evening, but hey, I think we all need it

So this is for 'irrelief', an incredible idea from gumnut-logic - go and put up some prompts and/or answer others everyone! And this work is in response to a prompt from tsarinatorment for:

Ned (and Gladys) doing gardening on Tracy Island

I'm honestly not quite sure what this is, you're prompt just inspired me and I seriously hope this lives up to what you wanted. I'm not quite sure how it ended up like this and I don't think its as fluffy as I intended it to be, but it is bright! (It kept expanding beyond my control, a little like that growth serum did with Gladys, so forgive me)

The title comes from this quote which I thought summed up Gladys (and Ned): "The love of gardening is a seed once sown that never dies" - Gertrude Jekyll

Summary: Believe it or not, they did have a garden on Tracy Island. It looked a little like a… tip. And that was being kind.

Words: 4730

Spoilers: References to all Ned Tedford episodes.

"John?"

"No. Alan, no. EOS is not going to help you."

"Ah, come on!"

"I'm not you helping either."

"John, that's mean." The youngest whined.

"No it's not."

The blonde pouted. It definitely was. All he was asking for was another pair of hands, or a pointer in the right direction. It wasn't like he was trying to wrangle someone else into doing the whole job for him… although, he so was.

"What's not mean?"

"Gordon, John won't help me!"

There was an unspoken rule that younger brothers had to stick together. Gordon pulled a shocked expression onto his features within seconds.

"Hey Johnny, that's a little mean!"

"Hey, only a little, Gordon?"

"He's only told you half the story."

"Big brothers are meant to help you!"

There was an unspoken rule about that.

"What do you need help with?"

And what perfect timing they could have, big brothers.

"Virgil! John won't help me!"

"Again, he's only telling you half the story."

"What do you need help with Alan?"

"Grandma's assigned me to gardening duty this time."

"Oh..."

"Told you."

"Yeah, Alan, even I'm not helping you."

"Why not?" The youngest almost screamed, nearly tearing his hair out now. He would swap cleaning the oven for this. And there was the code of unspoken brotherly rules too – which was being ignored!

"Because our garden is like a small jungle."

"Is a small jungle." John corrected.

"And a patch of lawn." Virgil added.

"Oh… is a small jungle, and a patch of lawn." Gordon finally summed up. "Anything else?"

"I'll swap."

"I'm good."

"No, you're ok."

"Come on guys, I hate gardening!"

"Hey," Virgil began, settling on the sofa, "We've all tried it. It's a big job."

"And none of us are overly good at it." John pointed out.

"We should stick to rescuing people." Gordon agreed.

"Then why is gardening still on the rota?"

"Because Grandma refuses to believe we can't have a managed an orderly garden."

"Well maybe we can't." Alan sighed, dropping down beside Gordon, who protested at having his feet nearly sat on. John shook his head, happy that he was safe up in Five, away from all this. It was one thing to be a part of the bickering, but another to physically be there. This was close enough for him, thank you.

"What can't we do?" Scott asked, heading up from finishing his cleaning job for the month. A weekly rota had just ended up being too short a turnaround. MAX did the little things now, and they did the bigger things. MAX rather liked cleaning after all.

"Fix the garden."

"Oh… who..?"

"Alan." Three voices answered jointly as the youngest's head hung low.

"We've all tried, Alan. It's a tricky job, but someone's got to be able to do it, sooner or later."

"Just not you, ey Scott."

"Gordon, I paid you for your silence."

"Eh… you can pay me more."

"What?"

But that was already enough for Alan, and Scott incredulousness at the prankster's nonchalant wave was still stuck upon his face – too much so to interrupt.

"What did Scott do?"

"It's more like what Scott didn't do."

"Gordon."

"Hang on, I don't think I know this story." Virgil piqued up, blinking, curious.

"Oh, you don't! So, you know the year the garden died, magically."

"Yeah?"

"Not really… oh! Was that the year all the flowers were all…"

"Wilted and like little sticks… yeah. That was Scott."

"What?"

"Yeah, family's very own plant murderer."

"Gordon, I think you'll need to give Scott his money back." John reasoned. His green eyes had been watching the storm clouds settle over his elder brother's face.

"No way. I don't do refunds!"

Virgil and Alan chuckled. Gordon smiled, chucking his arms behind his head, kicking his feet into Alan, who stopped chuckling to whack at his direct elder brother.

"Hey! Feet!"

"Well, it's not my fault if anyone loses a limb! EOS and I are going to do some maintenance. Speak to you later."

"Oh ok- But I thought John did all of Five's monthly maintenance?" Alan asked, confused. Virgil shrugged before his bones stilled and his eyes widened. "What?"

"Gordon…"

"Shh, Virge, I'm trying to dose here."

"Gordon."

"What Scott?"

"You are so dead."

Gordon cracked one eye open. Then the other. It wasn't hard to notice that the eldest was angry.

"Would it give me any more chances to live if I offer you a partial refund?"

Virgil let his head fall into his hands.

"Ur, Gordon..?"

"Yeah Alan, I know. Commencing running!"

"Run fast!"

Honestly, it was hard to say if their fish out of water had ever moved faster across the space of the living room.

Only problem being, Scott could move pretty fast too.

The sounds of scrabbling and footsteps lasted for a moment before silence covered the lounge, as though you wouldn't know a potential murder case was about to turn up on their doorstep.

"We should probably help him."

"Yeah, probably should."

"Odds on Scott!"

"No way, Virge, Gordon all the way!"

Tracy Island probably – or would (soon) probably – look like a bomb had hit it.

But up here, in Thunderbird Five, the Earth was still turning peacefully, time ticking by without a fear in the world. No sign of any bombs, or explosions, nothing of the sort. It was exactly why he'd left the conversation when he did. It left him completely out of the situation.

"John?"

"Yes EOS?"

"Is this garden – jungle and lawn – of yours, really that much of a problem?"

"Yes, and I have a headache just thinking about it."

"Well I have no reports of murder coming through yet."

"Good."

He wasn't really prepared to deal with that today, regardless of whether it was family who were the culprits.

"I'm putting my money on Scott."

"EOS you have no money."

"Oh… I'm putting my processors on Sc-"

"Don't. EOS please, don't finish that sentence."

"Okay."

John allowed himself the chance to exhale whilst it was there.

"John?"

"Yes EOS?"

"If this garden – lawn, jungle – is so much of a problem, why not have someone else fix it?"

"What are you suggesting EOS?"

"That you get a garden."

"EOS, we have a garden." It dawned on him just moments later, "Oh you mean a gardener."

"Yes! There must be plenty of those."

"Yeah, but EOS, who can get to come and work for us?"

"Um…"

"See. There's no one-"

"That is the GDF line. Colonel Casey's private line to be exact."

"Go on EOS. Colonel Casey, how can we help?"

"Don't worry, it's nothing which requires International Rescue." That was something of a relief. "It was more of a question."

"Go on, we're all ears."

"Is there any job in the world Tedford can do?"

"Tedford? As in Ned?"

"Yes. I'm afraid I've had just about enough of his name appearing in my reports."

"Why, what's he done now?"

"He's grown a plant."

"Gladys."

"Yes."

"And that's a bad thing, because..?"

"Because I need soldiers, agents, not gardeners."

"Yeah… I'm sorry Virgil put him your way."

"Well, I suppose we nearly had a job which suited him with the serum, but even then… I just wanted to run this past you. I was thinking of asking him to move on and find a job more suited to his talents."

"His talents of needing to call us?"

"Hopefully not."

"I don't know what job you're going to put him in that won't mean we need to watch him twenty-four se-" It struck him then. It should have clicked with him much, much sooner. "Hang on, what did you say about gardening?"

"Sorry?"

"Ned Tedford and gardening?"

"He used to be a gardener apparently. Didn't you know that?"

"No, I didn't."

"Are you thinking what I think you're thinking, John?"

"Yes, I am, EOS. Colonel Casey, I have a job for Ned. We'll take him off your hands."

"Are you sure? I wouldn't want you to be running after him just because he's no longer under our supervision."

"Don't worry, I think he'll have the perfect supervisor."

"Oh, well I'm glad I called."

"So am I."

"So am I, John."

"Why's that EOS?"

"Apparently Scott thinks his nose is broken."

John felt his shoulders drop.

You have got to be kidding me.

He wasn't paid enough to deal with his brothers sometimes, and that is why right now he was very glad to be all the way up here.

"So much for putting a bet on Scott."

"You refused to let me do that."

"That's why EOS. Gambling. Waste of time."

"I see. I've stored that instruction. John?"

"Yes EOS?"

"Scott thinks his nose is broken-"

"Yes, you said, he'll be panicking."

"And apparently Gordon has broken his foot."

John felt his shoulders hit the gravity ring.

Metaphorically, of course.

You have got to be kidding me.

He wasn't paid enough to deal with his brothers sometimes, and that is why right now he was very glad to be all the way up here.

Gordon's broken foot was actually… drum roll please, nothing more than a little jellyfish sting.

For once, Scott's broken nose was actually – problematically, for Gordon at least - a broken bone. A very well reset bone by Brains and you could hardly tell. Except for the waves of animosity still rolling between the two brothers.

Despite being told he was fine, Gordon was still claiming to have broken a toe… or two.

Alan was still at the point of finding it all very amusing. Virgil was offering to come up and take a shift on Five, which John knew – as he rightfully should – was something almost unheard of. Virgil liked to be around on Earth in case Two was needed, so that set the president for what life was currently like on the Island.

John was extremely glad he'd just finished a very, very important phone call.

EOS had suggested that 'high five' because Gordon said it was cool.

John promptly pointed out that she had no hands with which to perform said high five.

"I could use the mooring claw?"

"No, EOS, no."

"Okay John."

He sighed, and decided on his next day off – because somehow the world had managed to not require their services today – he was going to devise a way to allow EOS the luxury of a high five.

Before anyone got torn to pieces.

It was a week later and John had yet to have another day off. The world had found great need for International Rescue. But tonight, he was hoping to have some time to spend on the Island. After all, today was the first day.

"I never want to see a coal mine ever again."

"I never want to see coal ever again."

"Alan, that's essentially the same thing."

"Well, I wasn't really needed."

"Yeah alright, Gordon."

"Scott only made me come because he's still grumpy."

"Brains said there was the possibly of underwater sinkholes."

"Weren't any." Gordon sing-songed.

"Yeah, that's what chance can mean!"

"So you dragged me out for nothing-"

"I didn't know that!"

"With my skill broken toes!"

"You didn't break your toes, Gordon."

"I did too, Virge."

"Brains has an x-ray though."

"Alan ssh."

"Is it always arguments?"

"John!"

"You managed to get away?"

"EOS is in charge."

"That gives me shivers!" Gordon proclaimed, his feelings about the AI and their… back-and-forth, let's say, relationship still most well-known.

"I think she's alright."

"You would, Virge. You've never been face to face with her."

"Are you sure it's not more about the fa-"

"Alan!"

"Sorry."

What had fully transpired that day wasn't spoken of outside the blonde pair, although Gordon had a feeling that John knew, purely from EOS' side of the tale. Scott and Virgil, it had been decided by the prankster, didn't need to know.

"Where's Grandma?"

"Where she usually is at this time of day." Scott began, a little unsure. "Kitchen, John."

"Thank you."

The red-haired Tracy's was gone within moments of his arrival, leaving four confused brothers in his wake.

"Why does he Grandma?"

"Do you think he's going to poison us?"

"Gordon if that was the aim, Grandma's food would have already done that."

"I heard that young man!"

"Ooops."

"Scott you're dead."

"Grandma might poison you at this rate."

Silence fell through the house.

"Come on!" Scott yelled. "Why wasn't she listening then?"

"Because I am her favourite grandson."

"No, you're not Gordon."

"Hey, how do you know!"

"Because it's me. I always tell everyone that Grandma's right."

"That does not make you the favourite."

"I wonder what's for dinner." Alan mused, not involving himself in the bickering – for once.

"I just hope we get to eat dinner." Scott grumbled. He really had had just about enough with today.

"If it's lasagne then I agree."

"If it's meatloaf surprise do you think EOS will save us."

"Traitorous AI will save you lot and not me, I bet."

"We might not even need saving." Virgil reasoned, calmest of the brother's for now. "Alan, how are you getting on with the garden?"

"Don't bring it up. We just need to face that our garden is a jungle anyway and isn't recoverable."

"Grandma really wants a garden."

"Well she can't have one."

"That's not fair, Alan!"

"You fix the garden then, Scott!"

"You know I can't."

"Dinner's ready!"

There was no verbal acknowledgment between the brothers, but it was decidedly a good thing that such interruption had come when it did.

Heading down from the lounge, the four brothers rounded on the table, desperate to know what tonight's offering was and whether they would be able to shovel it down before they had to go running off again. Yet the first thing to reach their notice was the lack of food served up on the table. The second, was that there were seven placemats.

That wasn't necessarily an odd thing, except that Kayo was 'dining out' (meaning spying) with Lady Penelope tonight, and Brains always visited Moffy on the second Tuesday of the month. So, even with John visiting for the evening, it should have just been the six of them.

Now it was a matter of how to bring that up. The four brothers glanced between each other, silently communicating as to who the responsibility fell to. It was Virgil who the eyes remained on, to which the middle child made a face. Gordon shrugged before adding, "you're the favourite" to the previously non-verbal discussion, and that was the argument over.

Virgil cursed mentally and tried to think of some good wording.

"Umm, Grandma, you've laid a place too many, you know. It's Tuesday."

"I know what day it is, young man, and I have laid just the right number."

"But there's six of us."

"And our guest."

"Guest!"

"What guest?"

"I didn't know we had a guest…"

"In the garden, with John."

Once again, the four brothers looked to each other, eyes communicating what words would have if not. Quietly and together, they made their way outside, rounding towards the garden. It had taken many forms over the years. It bordered on the edges of the jungle, and unfortunately was sometimes a little battered by Thunderbird One's take offs. The garden had always been for Grandma's benefit really, and so it didn't surprise the boys that she wanted to fix it up, but the chances of doing that had always seemed slim to them.

Scott was somewhat useless, and he would admit that to himself and no one else (although Gordon had done that part for him). John and Virgil, whilst great with nature and perfectly at home with it, had both executed failed plans to revive the landscape. Probably because they had such little time. Gordon hadn't the right aptitude for gardening. He didn't mind the snails and slugs and worms that he found crawling around. They fascinated him. They also ate a good portion of the plants. Alan hadn't really tried. He'd spent ages looking at the garden when Grandma tasked him with it, but never once could he think of what he should do to try and revive it.

Honestly, the brothers weren't the ones under the illusion that it was achievable. And try did want to try their best to give Grandma what she wished for, but it proved trickier than any of them could manage, pilots and astronauts, rescuers and aquanauts as they were. They were the grand International Rescue, but couldn't garden to save their lives.

"John?"

"Over here, Scott."

"Scott? Which one's he?"

"Iridium vault."

"Ah yes. I threw something at him…"

"Sounds about right."

"Iridium vault? What?" Alan muttered as they navigated the bushes.

"Who is John talking to?"

As they round the path though, it became abundantly clear.

"Ned?"

"Oh, hello there."

"I thought you worked for the GDF… Ned?"

"I did. Colonel Casey has offered me a transfer."

"Hooray for you, Ned. John why's he here?"

"Manners, Gordon. Ned is our new gardener."

"What?"

"Well, we've proven none of us could do it. And he comes highly recommended."

"That I do. Gladys and I know all about gardening."

"Yay!" Gordon cheered, sarcastically, before whipping his head back round to John. "Seriously though, what is he doing here?"

"The gardening, Gordon."

"But… he's a hazard."

"All the more reason to have him here. He'll never need to call us. Was that Grandma saying dinner's ready?"

"Yes. Yes, it was." Scott replied, still watching Ned. He had a feeling he could be dreaming.

"Good, come on Ned."

"Oh, right you are, spaceman."

Picking up Gladys, the miner turned soldier turned- oh forget all that – the gardener followed behind the usually space bound Tracy.

"Oi, wait up!"

"Yeah, we want food!"

With Alan and Gordon quickly rushing off behind.

Scott was still a little… shell-shocked?

As he heard Virgil go to move, he grabbed his younger brother's arm.

"Can you do me a favour and pinch me."

"Pinch you?"

"Yes please."

"Scott, I don't think you-"

"Virgil just pinch me."

The resident heavy lifter shrugged, still not entirely sure this was a good idea, but hey, the eldest was asking for it. He sighed, preparing himself for what he was sure would come. He could see Scott's thinking, easily so, but… he didn't think he was going to get quite that lucky.

"Ok."

The resulting yell was enough to make Scott very, very certain that he wasn't dreaming.

Someone help him.

"I could p-"

He hadn't meant to say that aloud, dammit!

"No, Virgil, don't!"

Someone help him, but don't pinch him.

Somehow, John had just hired the Ned Tedford to be their gardener.

A few weeks ago, Ned would never have imagined this.

He didn't know they had an island for once.

He knew most of the family by now really, sort of. Grandma Tracy – Sally, to him apparently - was also very nice to him. He'd offered to make the tea and that seemed to work as an ice breaker.

The boys – as Sally called them – were out on a rescue when he'd arrived, and Sally had shown him promptly to the garden.

Believe it or not, they did have a garden on Tracy Island. It looked a little like a… tip. And that was being kind.

"What's this?"

"The garden."

"You call this a garden? More like a tip of dead plants masquerading as one. Look at them weeping! And your soil is all dried out, and your grass is all…"

Sheared? Was that a fair descriptor, he wondered? It was probably worse than that, maybe shaved was better apt.

"It's not been very well attended to."

"I can see that, Sally. What exactly do you want me to do?"

"John said you were a gardener."

"I am, but I need to know what sort of garden you want."

"Oh, I think, well, maybe just some kind of garden to start with."

"Right you are Ma'am! I'll fix this place up for you."

And he had. He'd meant to stick to that. Even if he had promptly confided in Gladys that it was going to be a difficult job.

"Come on then, Gladys. Better get to work. We've got to spruce this up here, and this will have to go. We might be able to save those bushes over there if we give them a trim. What do you say, Gladys?"

He'd spent ages resurfacing and replanting and remodelling until there was something there which he could start working with.

He pulled up the weeds and replanted the plants that were salvageable in nice new soil, appropriately suited to their relevant requirements of sun or shade. He'd spent a long time sitting in the garden to watch exactly which paths the bright orb of light crossed for that very reason.

Soon even Gladys had a family with a temporary home in the rockery.

He didn't think he was doing a half bad job as he worked, humming to himself or talking to Gladys, mapping out the landscape and what plants he had left to work with, as well as making a list of those he might need to acquire.

Ned Tedford had a very good feeling about this garden.

Maybe he had been away from gardening for far too long.

The first night he agreed to let the family step foot into his work in progress, he felt rather proud to stand with them for once. He hadn't caused a problem or any trouble or put anyone in danger. He'd grown beautiful asters and chrysanthemums and an assortment of pansies. He'd tried to put a bit of colour into it in the first instance, and this was only the first instance. He'd been working on it for a week and a lot of that week had been spent learning and re-building.

But that first night he felt rather proud.

"We're looking at a garden."

"Well done, Scott- Oww! No need to elbow me."

"You broke my nose, remember, Gordon? I have every right."

Ned didn't remember, and he'd been an only child so he couldn't necessarily say he understood, but he was quite pleased with his initial success.

Maybe you should have stuck to gardening, Ned.

"Now this, is the life!" Gordon proclaimed merrily, leaning back beneath the sun.

"I might actually get a decent tan this year." Alan agreed.

Virgil was a little (meaning a lot) more interested in placing the blocks they had chosen to outline the pool. Scott was 'supervising' which John had translated to 'watching', not that the eldest had agreed with that definition, so John dropped the subject. Virgil had smiled, aware that Scott was definitely 'supervising'.

Grandma at least was very happy with her new garden.

It had taken a month of hard work, but they now had something resembling plants and shrubbery. They had birds frequenting the garden as a break from their dense jungle home and they even had an assortment of ladybirds and butterflies. It was all rather remarkable. It made for a lovely view and a great place to sit.

And the best part?

They'd currently been lucky with two days to do exactly that, and the streak of invisible rescue calls was continuing still.

There had been some argument about whether they had a round pond (John, Alan and Grandma) or a square pond (Scott and Virgil) or a diamond shaped pond (Gordon, of course that one was Gordon). But eventually a decision had been made and Virgil was now helping build the foundations for Ned – who apparently knew all about how to encourage pond life for them.

Scott had been reluctant to admit it, but the man was a good gardener.

So good that now the garden had been recovered, he had little to do but maintain it, at least until the pond was built. It did mean of course that the usual troublemaker had hours on his hands sometimes.

John had been right (again) though; Ned was far less trouble where they could see him.

Damn him always being right.

"Battenburg?"

"Oh, thank you Ned."

"You're welcome."

"Anyone else? Biscuits? Tea?"

"I'll have a custard cream. Thanks Ned."

"Coffee?"

"Thank you."

Scott took the proffered mug with glee.

This… Gordon was right, this was the good life.

Until Virgil had the pond built, Ned had relatively little to do. The man was a hard worker though, maybe more so than International Rescue had ever been able to realise when they were trialing after him to rescue him all those times.

When he wasn't working on the garden, or sleeping, or tending to 'Gladys' corner' (a deal they'd written into his contract), he was serving them tea, cake and biscuits. It was like having Parker here! Maybe with a little less training or efficiency, but it was still pretty good.

The call sign rang.

They'd needed to fit one in the garden actually…

There was always a rush in the past to get up and answer it, but now their worries also seemed to be lessened.

Ned was there.

God it was like having a butler.

"Hello? International Gardening Service. Ned speaking."

Scott's brows knitted together.

When he glanced at John he saw a near mirror image.

Even Virgil had glanced over his shoulder at them.

Only Gordon and Alan seemed to be undisturbed upon their sun loungers.

"What did he just say?

"I think I best check whose calling."

"Might be worth it, John."

"Oh hello Colonel Casey!"

John promptly sat himself back down. He hadn't even managed to take a step.

"Well we know who it is."

"I guess I better go see what's needed."

"Might be an idea, Scott."

"Oh, yes, Scott's here. I'll take you to him. Scott!"

Scott sighed and sat himself back down.

"I'm just going to…"

"Yeah, just sit there."

"Probably for the best."

"Here we go, Colonel. I'll pass you over to International Rescue now."

"Thank you, Tedford."

"Always a pleasure! International Gardening Services out." Ned passed Scott back his communicator before glancing round. "Where did I put my tea tray, Gladys? Oh, back in the kitchen!"

And with that the man was disappearing to retrieve his selection of hot drinks and sweet treats.

"Hello, Colonel Casey. What can we do for you?"

"Oh, I just wanted to see how your new recruit was settling in."

"He's a… a hard worker."

"Yes."

"He fetches us cake."

John added.

"And tea."

Virgil contributed.

"Oh, well, as long as he's doing well."

"Yes, yes, he and Gladys have settled in nicely to International Gardening Services."

The boys could see it in their God-Mother's frown.

"Don't worry," John placated, "We're not starting that as a new business."

"Yeah, but has anyone told Ned that?" Virgil asked, lowering another block into place. Scott and John looked towards each other a little ashen.

"I guess we're in the gardening business?"

A year later and Ned had very little work to be doing. He'd gone back to running his own gardening business – thank goodness he'd decided to call it Ned Tedford Gardening Services, as opposed to the other available options – and so spent little time on the Island now.

Ned came back every fortnight for maintenance.

And whilst he was gone, Scott was banned from the garden unless supervised. Grandma was quite happy to have somewhere nice to sit and even Kayo and Brains seemed to frequent it. Hiring Ned as a gardener was (unspoken between them, of course) one of John's best ideas.

There was still a little rockery of Gladys descendants, and Gordon had taken the liberty of naming them, claiming he and Gladys had bonded in the time the geranium (which was now the front of Ned's business) had lived on the island.

They'd become Gordon's pride and joy. He'd even begun speaking to them, just like another they knew.

Luckily, Gordon usually saved these moments for when he believed he was alone.

It should probably, be unluckily though…

Luckily, for Scott, he'd been able to witness such a moment.

And had every intention to ask for his money back with renewed motivation for the swimmer.

They'd become Gordon's pride and joy, his little collection of named geraniums and as the money returned to Scott's hands, he promised to never say a word about the little family.

After all, they were a family of geraniums in their own right; there was Gloria, and Gillian, Giles and Gerry, and Ted.