Disclaimer: I don't own Thunderbirds. (sigh)
ONCE FORGOTTEN
Hi, it's me again. No I haven't given up yet. I'm determined to figure out how to use this thing but be warned that I will probably suck at uploading for a while
Gordon: "GET OFF THE STAGE!!"
Virgil: "Yeah, haven't you done enough damage already, AND on you first chapter too."
Alan: "Maybe she's doing it deliberately. She might even be a fanfic terrorist."
John: "Yeah and out to ruin the good name of the fanfic author."
Scott: "I think she's doing ok for a newbie...WHO CAN'T NAVIGATE HER WAY
ROUND A KEYBOARD COZ SHE'S WEARING BOXING GLOVES!"
(Laughter ensures all round)
DyMonda: (Standing up with her trusty tennis racket at the ready)
"Right you horrible lot! Back into the screen and I do mean NOW!"
After much grumbling and many death glares.
"So sorry about that folks. Sometimes they forget who's in the driving seat. Now, where'd put my boxing gloves?"
* * *
Chapter 2 - Cardboard Boxes.
The basement of Tracy villa was immaculate when compared to the usual stereotypical basement full of dust, cobwebs and assorted creepy crawlies. Boxes were stacked neatly on shelves along one wall while the others were covered in old bookshelves, old paintings and other long forgotten memorabilia.
Scott Tracy sighed as he sat on the floor surrounded by cardboard boxes full of old trophies that he and his brothers had won over the years, another full of documents like their birth certificates and old school reports and diplomas. The one that he was currently sifting through was full of photographs from before the family had moved to Tracy island and started International Rescue.
One of Gordon standing on the podium at the Olympics with his gold medal, one of his brother John with his first telescope at the age of 8, another of Alan aged three playing with a model race car he had gotten one Christmas. Arrghh, there were so many.
Although he had spent hours down in the dark albeit clean basement looking through box upon box, of both sad and happy memories, it had actually only taken him about 20 minutes to find what he went down there for in the first place.
Sighing again he glanced down at the single photograph that lay beside him. The one he had gone down there to look for.
The photo was old, almost as old as him but it was still in as perfect condition as the day it was taken.
Picking up the picture with a slightly shaking hand, he stared at it hard.
"So long ago." His was barely above a whisper in spite of the fact the he was alone.
His father had kept all the other photos with this particular pair, one person in particular, hidden from not him but the rest of the family, choosing to forget past as appose to remembering the painful memory the photos brought with them.
But his father had missed this photograph. His photograph, and no way was he ever going to give it up.
Tucking the photo safetly away in his trouser pocket he stood up from the floor and made his way back up the stairs, finally deciding that he was hungry enough to face the rest of the family.
TBC
* * *
Right. I know it's only a short chapter but it's serving as guinea pig for my first attempt at edit/add chapter so if it works then I promise the next one will be longer. ;~) *
ONCE FORGOTTEN
Hi, it's me again. No I haven't given up yet. I'm determined to figure out how to use this thing but be warned that I will probably suck at uploading for a while
Gordon: "GET OFF THE STAGE!!"
Virgil: "Yeah, haven't you done enough damage already, AND on you first chapter too."
Alan: "Maybe she's doing it deliberately. She might even be a fanfic terrorist."
John: "Yeah and out to ruin the good name of the fanfic author."
Scott: "I think she's doing ok for a newbie...WHO CAN'T NAVIGATE HER WAY
ROUND A KEYBOARD COZ SHE'S WEARING BOXING GLOVES!"
(Laughter ensures all round)
DyMonda: (Standing up with her trusty tennis racket at the ready)
"Right you horrible lot! Back into the screen and I do mean NOW!"
After much grumbling and many death glares.
"So sorry about that folks. Sometimes they forget who's in the driving seat. Now, where'd put my boxing gloves?"
* * *
Chapter 2 - Cardboard Boxes.
The basement of Tracy villa was immaculate when compared to the usual stereotypical basement full of dust, cobwebs and assorted creepy crawlies. Boxes were stacked neatly on shelves along one wall while the others were covered in old bookshelves, old paintings and other long forgotten memorabilia.
Scott Tracy sighed as he sat on the floor surrounded by cardboard boxes full of old trophies that he and his brothers had won over the years, another full of documents like their birth certificates and old school reports and diplomas. The one that he was currently sifting through was full of photographs from before the family had moved to Tracy island and started International Rescue.
One of Gordon standing on the podium at the Olympics with his gold medal, one of his brother John with his first telescope at the age of 8, another of Alan aged three playing with a model race car he had gotten one Christmas. Arrghh, there were so many.
Although he had spent hours down in the dark albeit clean basement looking through box upon box, of both sad and happy memories, it had actually only taken him about 20 minutes to find what he went down there for in the first place.
Sighing again he glanced down at the single photograph that lay beside him. The one he had gone down there to look for.
The photo was old, almost as old as him but it was still in as perfect condition as the day it was taken.
Picking up the picture with a slightly shaking hand, he stared at it hard.
"So long ago." His was barely above a whisper in spite of the fact the he was alone.
His father had kept all the other photos with this particular pair, one person in particular, hidden from not him but the rest of the family, choosing to forget past as appose to remembering the painful memory the photos brought with them.
But his father had missed this photograph. His photograph, and no way was he ever going to give it up.
Tucking the photo safetly away in his trouser pocket he stood up from the floor and made his way back up the stairs, finally deciding that he was hungry enough to face the rest of the family.
TBC
* * *
Right. I know it's only a short chapter but it's serving as guinea pig for my first attempt at edit/add chapter so if it works then I promise the next one will be longer. ;~) *