Title: We'll be home for Christmas
Day Two – Aboard This Tiny Ship – Part 1
Author: Gumnut
14 Dec 2019
Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS
Rating: Teen
Summary: The boys can't fly home for Christmas, so they have to find another way.
Word count: 3633
Spoilers & warnings: language and so, so much fluff. Science!Gordon. Minor various ships, mostly background.
Timeline: Christmas Season 3, I have also kinda ignored the main storyline of Season 3. The boys needed a break, so I gave them one. Post season 3B, before Season 3C cos we haven't seen it yet.
Author's note: This is my 2019 TAG Secret Santa fic :D I hope you enjoy it.
Many thanks to vegetacide and scribbles97 for cheering me on and their wonderful support through this craziness. And to onereyofstarlight for geeking out with me over the setting.
Disclaimer: Mine? You've got to be kidding. Money? Don't have any, don't bother.
-o-o-o-
Day Two - Aboard this Tiny Ship
It was the bed disappearing under him and then slapping him hard that woke Virgil the next morning.
Ow, shit. He curled up, protecting his abdomen, more in surprise than any serious pain. It took him a few moments to fully awaken and work out where he was. Opening his eyes helped. Sun glared through one of his windows and he blinked, screwing up his face.
When his bed reassured him that it wasn't going to disappear again any time soon by staying solidly attached to him for a good few minutes, he pushed back the covers.
Paper fell off the bed. His hand landed on his tablet and there was a clatter as several somethings hit the floor.
He frowned as he watched his sketchbook slide slowly over the edge and bend half its pages as it crumpled on the carpet.
What the hell?
And then he caught sight of his portable easel.
Oh.
Phthalo turquoise, rainbowed in its many shades, sat in backdrop to Payne's Grey and white and all the tints in between. The mother and calf humpback whales swam at him out of the canvas sheet clamped to the backboard.
A blink. There was paint on his fingers, the bed sheets, and, oh shit, the carpet.
He struggled to sit up, dragging his feet off the side of the bed and onto the floor. His wounds complained at every wrong move and his head spun. Ugh, dehydrated. A pencil fell off the bed and he moved to catch it. He missed.
Damnit, another one ruined.
He rubbed a hand over his face and looked at the canvas again.
It was good. He was very critical of his work, but he knew this was good. A feeling of accomplishment swelled inside.
Just as the boat threw itself into the air for a split second only to come down hard again. Virgil's eyes widened as the easel tilted and, in slow motion, begin to fall.
"No, no, no!" He shot off the bed and grabbed the art support, rescuing it from certain damage.
But he wasn't supposed to be moving fast and everything in his abdomen screamed protest and he found himself frozen in the middle of his floor clutching his easel and unable to move.
Of course, that was when the boat chose to toss him around again.
The whole room shifted and he stumbled, yelped, and, by some miracle, managed to land on his bed, artwork on top of him.
His body, however, again did not approve at all and he let the easel slip to the bed covers, curled up and gave his belly time to reassure itself that it wasn't being ripped apart.
A few breaths and he reached for his shirt on the end of the bed. Fumbling, he activated his collar comms. "Scott, you there?"
Wind roar answered him. "Hey, Virg! You're awake early. You have to come up here, this boat is amazing."
He blinked. "What?"
"She's fast!" As if to emphasise that statement, Virgil's bed bounced him up and down again.
"Ow, shit!"
"Virgil? What's wrong?"
He didn't answer, too busy holding himself together.
Engine noise he hadn't even acknowledged suddenly died off and the boat became its more familiar steady self. He could barely feel the gentle roll.
He let out a breath, drew in another, and when there was no more pain, finally relaxed on the bed. He really could have done without that.
His fingers brushed against canvas.
Hesitantly and wary of any pain, he pushed himself into a sitting position, once again letting his feet slide of the side of the bed to meet the floor.
"Virgil?" His name was accompanied by a knock on his cabin door.
It was at that point he realised he was only wearing his pyjama bottoms. A frown. He had phthalo turquoise in his chest hair.
His cabin door opened and Scott barrelled through, blue eyes immediately latching onto Virgil, assessing his condition, only to be distracted by the mess of the room. "What the hell?"
Gordon burst in behind his brother, followed by a calmer, but concerned John. "Are you okay, Virgil?"
"Uh, yeah." Honestly, was he okay? Nothing was hurting, really, just an echo of the strain remained. "What happened to the boat?" He was almost waiting for the next buck to throw him from the bed, but there was only the barely-there gentle sway. "Did we hit rough seas? Has the weather gone bad?" The sun was still shining through his window.
"No, that was just our hot shot superior pilot attempting to prove that he really isn't." Gordon glared at his elder brother. "Face it, Scott, you just don't have it on the water."
"I have 'it' fine, Gordon."
John was still frowning at Virgil. "Tell that to my fried egg which jumped off my plate and landed on the floor."
"I was just getting a feel for the craft."
"Yeah, well, the craft feels pretty shook up. I'm piloting from now on." Now Gordon was frowning at Virgil. "You sure you're okay? You're pale."
Of course, that set off Scott and Virgil found three frowning pairs of eyes staring at him. Self-consciously he shifted his arm to hide his incisions. Which his eldest brother immediately picked up on and before he could say anything, Scott was kneeling in front of him. "What is it?"
Virgil's lips thinned. "You woke me up." A glance at the clock. Oh god. "Before 7am."
But his brother wasn't having any of it. "Are you in pain?"
"No. I'm fine. You woke me up. We're on vacation and you woke me up." He put everything into a glare.
Gordon snorted. "Scott, you're dead, bro."
"Why is your easel on your bed?" That came from John.
"Uh-"
"Did you fall over?" His eyes cut across the room and interrogated Virgil.
Gordon rounded on Scott. "I told you!" The aquanaut whacked his eldest brother's arm. "When in the hell are you going to listen to me?"
But Scott wasn't paying him any attention. "Are you okay, Virgil?"
Oh, for the love of... "I'm fine! Now will someone either bring me coffee or let me get to the coffee?" Okay, so he was a little concerned about the whole floor tossing him about thing happening again. But then again, Scott wasn't driving anymore.
He pushed himself off the bed, hunching a little to protect himself before mostly straightening and edging past Scott, and Gordon who was still glaring at his eldest brother. He fought the urge to pick up his sketchbook and the spray of cartridge paper on the floor. He wasn't confident that bending over that far with an audience would be the greatest idea.
He met John at the cabin door and withstood his younger brother's enquiring eyes as he made his way past.
"Oh my god, Virg. It's amazing." Virgil turned around like an old man and it annoyed him to no end. Gordon was holding up the painting, still attached to its support. Thank god he had used acrylics. If it had been in oils, it would have ended up all over him, all over the bed and likely totally destroyed.
The stunned expression on his little brother's face did bring a small smile to Virgil's lips. "Thank you. I'm quite happy with it."
"I want it. Can I have it?" That was a very familiar response from Gordon. Anything Virgil painted involving the ocean got that response.
"I'll think about it."
The puppy look that resulted from that had Virgil rolling his eyes. "I said I'll think about it. I might want to keep it myself."
A gentle hand landed on his shoulder. "It's a beautiful piece of work, Virgil." John soft voice had awe in it.
Virgil's eyes widened as he stared at his reserved brother. "Thank you, John."
"But you need to sit down." And his younger brother began to steer him out of the room.
"I'm fine..." But of course, Scott who had been staring at the painting as much as Gordon, shook off his stupor and took Virgil's other side. "Aww, c'mon, I'm not dying. It doesn't even hurt."
"If you think I missed you yelling out in pain earlier, you're dreaming. You are resting on the lounge and we will get you your breakfast." Those blue eyes darted at John and no doubt met agreement. "Gordon, give this cabin a quick tidy, will you."
"Yeah, will do." A glare shot at his eldest brother. "As long as you keep away from the helm."
Scott muttered something Virgil couldn't quite hear.
Despite his protests, his brothers did exactly what they said they would and dragged him out into the lounge and made him lie on the sofa which was fortunately long enough for his height and deep enough for his shoulders to fit comfortably.
Coffee and the accompanying breakfast were served up to him and he was eyed from across the room until he consumed it.
The coffee was lovely and warm and John had out done himself with the eggs. Despite himself and despite the caffeine dose, Virgil found himself lying back down and curling up on the couch and dozing.
Alan crawled out of bed at some point and woke him briefly, but an admonishment from Scott quietened the noise and Virgil let himself drift again, the gentle sounds of the ocean and the boat lulling him to sleep.
-o-o-o-
Gordon was having the time of his life.
The boat was a beauty and under the right hands, eg. not Scott's, she coasted through the water like a dream. It was a whole different thing to be able to open a window and let the ocean breeze tangle in his hair. He loved the water with his entire soul, but safety and necessity in his job often kept a buffer between her and him, either wetsuit or marine acrylic. It was so freeing to be able to spend some time out in the open on the water indulging in speed. There would be some snorkelling, maybe even a little diving on this trip. There was no way he was letting this opportunity pass.
The only blip in his excitement was his second eldest brother. The man was healing. He was getting better, but he obviously wasn't himself. Virgil slept on the couch in the main living area for the rest of the morning. Each of the brothers found themselves occupations elsewhere on the boat, though Gordon did note that Scott made a point of checking on the sleeping engineer multiple times. John wandered through approximately every forty-five minutes. Even Alan checked up on Virgil from time to time. The youngest was caught up in some video game battle with John that involved some extensive swearing about half an hour ago on Alan's part and a whole pile of laughter on John's part.
Gordon grinned. He obviously wasn't the only one having a great time.
He had to admit that having all of his brothers together in the one space and not being required to work was simply amazing. So often it was not quite all of them, one missing for some reason or other, usually John.
And yes, he realised that it was a little different for five grown brothers to not only work together, but to inhabit the same space. With the exception of himself, and yes, he did blush a little and smile at the thought, none of them had any associations that might lead to future partners. Though come to think of it, John had been hanging around that chick from Global One a lot.
He frowned. Virgil and Tin had been spending a lot of time together, too. Hmm, he may need to poke a bear and a spaceman for intel at some point, even if it was just to see them squirm.
Actually, yeah, that sounded like some great evening entertainment.
Scott, well...and that thought sobered him up. Scott put far too much of himself into International Rescue, Tracy Industries and their family to have anything left. Hell, the man was the one floundering out here on the ocean. With Virgil operating in less than optimal condition, Scott monitoring had fallen to John and Gordon. Neither of them managed the task as well as Virgil, but they did their best.
Their eldest brother was at a loss. John had acquired the man's phone, likely under Grandma's orders, and hidden it. The only reason there hadn't been yelling between the two brothers was the fact that Virgil had been asleep on the couch nearby at the time. As it was, it was surprising Scott's glare hadn't sunk the boat.
There was nowhere to run on the ship and while it was a luxury yacht, Gordon hadn't bothered to include any kind of gym equipment, there hadn't been time. So, his eldest brother was denied his stress relief.
Gordon had given the man the helm this morning for that exact reason. If he had known he would push her to full throttle like that, he wouldn't have. Even he could see shaking Virgil around hadn't been a good idea. Having had his own share of injuries in his short life, Gordon could easily empathise. Fortunately, there didn't seem to be any damage done other than Virgil passing out on the couch for half the day and that was more usual Virg than anything else.
The yacht was decked out in all the top technologies. Of course, she was no Thunderbird, but her scanning equipment was excellent for a leisure vehicle, and Gordon had hotwired a few extra IR sensors into her array. So, the image he received of L'Esperance Rock was clear as a bell long before it appeared on the horizon.
The weather was to die for. He couldn't have asked for a flatter, smoother ride. It was something he had made sure of before he even bought the boat. The trip wouldn't have been viable if he had put his second eldest brother through a storm or even mildly rough seas. But the weather net had forecast stunning days leading up to Christmas for the entire period he planned to have them on the water and hopefully it would stay that way.
If he managed to keep Scott away from the helm.
Another sigh. A course check, a handful of calculations in his head. They would make it to Macauley by about the middle of the afternoon, give or take a dawdle around Curtis and Cheeseman Islands. It was so tempting to stop at each and check them out. It had been a while since he had been down here.
GeoNet reported that Curtis was quiet at the moment, fortunately. He had no wish to take on a volcano without a Thunderbird to back him up.
But, yes, Macauley would enable him to get Scott off the boat. The man could climb a few rocks and burn off his agitation. They could camp on the beach for dinner. It would almost be like being at home.
He grinned. Yes, set the yacht at anchor and take the inflatable into shore. He ran landing locations through his head. He might even have an opportunity to dive off Macauley.
Come to think of it...he hit the general comms line.
"A Little Lightning to Raoul Base. Mel, you got your ears on?"
It took a moment, but then a familiar voice bounced in over the water. "Thunderfish? Is that you? Whatcha doin' all the way down there?" A pause. "And what the hell are you floating? You bein' a billionaire or somethin'?"
"Hey, can't I have a little vacation?"
"You? Vacated in the head maybe, but sitting on your butt? I find that hard to believe. You're not sick, are you?" Actual concern crept into her voice. "You said you'd recovered from that crash."
"I'm fine, Mel. Keep your hat on. It's my brother who is a little under the weather this time. Couldn't fly home, so we're boating it and having a little vacation along the way."
"Your brother? Which one?" Okay, so she was still concerned. Mel was a long-time friend. Since they had moved to Tracy Island, Raoul Island was their closest neighbour and both the northern-most and largest of the group. Mel was the director of the team stationed on the island by the New Zealand Department of Conservation and she oversaw all the research conducted on and around the Kermadec Islands.
"Virgil. A little appendicitis. He's fine. Just a couple of extra scars and there is a little less of him than there used to be."
"Aww, send him my best. And let me know if he needs a little nursin'. A girl can get lonely out here." Gordon rolled his eyes. She had been flinging similar hopeful remarks about Virgil in his direction ever since his brother had airlifted her and her team off Raoul last time their resident volcano had twitched. It had been useful fodder to stir his brother with, but Virgil being the genuine and caring soul that he was, had clapped Gordon around the ear and threatened to tell Mel about Gordon's underwear collection and the special prints he ordered in the mail.
Brothers played dirty.
But then Tin glared at Gordon enough to scorch his hair off.
So not going there.
"You? Lonely? Did the Kiwi Postal Service have to send out a special delivery this year for your fanmail?"
"Christmas cards from friends, you dorkus. You can talk. Pen says you got sixteen bunches of preserved roses from hopefuls last year."
He frowned. "Pen? When did you speak to Penny?"
"Hey, I have to find out how you're doin' somehow. S'not like I can just boat over to your super secret island, is it?"
"Okay, you have a point. Though I must say, you and Penny is a combination that never occurred to me." Probably because it was downright terrifying. Mel was more pirate than lady. You were more likely to find her in waders than heels, and her mind was a little more obsessed with these islands than was probably healthy or conducive to general conversation.
"She's nice. You've done good, Thunderfish."
"Thank you for your approval."
"So, you're on vacation in my isles. You watch yourself. No trashing anything. You tell your brothers to keep their rockets off my turf."
"We know, Mel. Though you didn't seem to mind when Virg parked his 'bird on your doorstep. Not to mention that time I took your instrumentation down in Four, and then there-"
"Okay, okay, you are both useful and gorgeous, I get it. Just be careful, okay. It has taken years to revegetate and restore this area. If you weren't you, I'd send the coast guard out to kick your asses out of the zone."
"Yeah, yeah, we've had this discussion before, Mel. I have no quarantinable cargo, it has all been inspected, we won't litter, we won't take shellfish, we won't step on birds' nests, we won't chop firewood, we won't even look under rocks for crabs. However, I was going to ask if there was anything on Macauley you would like me to check out while I'm there. I was thinking of landing for a brief respite. Scott needs a break."
"You've got the Commander on board that little dingy?"
"Aye."
"I thought you said putting that man on a boat was equal to transporting dangerous cargo. Cargo that bites."
"It is. Hence the stop at Macauley. Any teams down there at the moment?"
"No, most of them have gone home for Christmas."
"Why haven't you?"
"I am home, Thunderfish. What the hell kinda stupid ass question was that?"
Okay, touchy subject.
"No need to rip my head off. Just offering you a hand if you need one. We'll make Macauley by late afternoon. I'm keeping the speed down a little. Is there anything you would like me to look into while I'm there? I might have a couple of hours to play with."
"Gimme a sec." A moment. "Hmm, it's a shame you don't have your little yellow submarine with you. One of the sensors in the Macauley caldera has gone offline. Burke is gonna be pissed."
"Burke is always pissed. She needs to get a life."
"She's got one. Got together with one of the scientists from Tokyo a few months back. Been a hot topic ever since. Gone to Japan for the holidays."
"Good for her."
"Crap for me as I'm now short an aquanaut over said holidays."
"I can't guarantee anything, but I'll see what I can do. Hell, might even drop back after Christmas. Visiting these waters has reminded me of several reasons why I became an aquanaut in the first place."
"Ooh, if only I could lure you here permanently. You and your Thunderbird."
Gordon snorted. "You're in my retirement plan, Mel."
"Yeah, right."
"You want me to check any of the landward or shallow water sensors?"
"Nah, they're all good. Do you have your sensor buoy with you? Any indepth readings would be lovely."
"Already started spot analysis. I'll send you last night's data. Caught a great shot of a humpback and her calf. Full details recorded. They were both untagged, but we ran into Hilda."
"All the way down there? Great, anything you can send me would be fabulous."
"FAB." He grinned.
"Exactly, smart ass. You look after yourself out there. I hear International Rescue is on vacation, which means you get into trouble, it will be my ass that gets yanked out of bed. I value my sleep."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Keep that in mind. Raoul out."
He had to grin.
-o-o-o-
End Day Two, Part One