Disclaimer: I don't own Thunderbirds.
FlashFictionFriday #117 "Stars and Shadows"
The firelight flickered, warm and homely on the pebbles of the beach. It wasn't often that the five of them managed to get time together like this; peaceful – if not quiet.
Five brothers didn't tend towards silence, no matter the situation. Scott was, as always, directing operations and hoarding the marshmallows to distribute on a need-to-have basis. Any semblance of actually being strict about how many he handed out had fled hours ago, attempts at controlling the sugar intake of the two teenagers long forgotten as the night drew in and the stars began to wink into view.
John and Virgil were on hot chocolate duty, a homemade recipe brought out only on special occasions for the brothers to indulge in. All of them knew the theory, but it was an undisputed fact that John did it best. Virgil was insurance against gravity, and an extra pair of hands to carry everything.
The youngest two had been delegated to blanket arranging, masters of spinning the fabric into intricate yet stable nests that protected derrieres from pebbles digging into uncomfortable places, while easy enough to pull tighter around bodies as the night descended and brought a chill, accentuated by the breeze skimming the ocean.
As the flames flickered and danced, overseen by a multitasking Virgil to make sure they had all the fuel they needed to lick at the sky above, shadows darted around, playing tag with the ever-changing light. Orange glows reflected on the rippling water, giving off the illusion of fire under the surface, and peered out from five pairs of eyes. Orange in blue, in turquoise – contrasting colours that somehow failed to clash as the same light and shadows darted across their faces. Orange in chestnut, in amber – complimentary colours that made warm eyes impossibly warmer, deeper.
The scent of woodsmoke wafted across, adding that little tang to the melting marshmallows on skewers, tinting the taste of the chocolate until it was just right. The smoke itself was near non-existent, speaking volumes to the skill behind the construction of the bonfire.
Warmth chased away the encroaching chill, working in tandem with the blankets – woodsmoke scented blankets, long since imbued with the scent that no amount of laundry could remove – to keep the evening pleasant even as dusk faded to twilight, to the pitch dark of the sky.
Far above them, the stars shone down, understated yet breath-taking. Far off galaxies scattered the vista with hints of colour – blues, reds, purples, with some greens, yellows and oranges to embrace the full colour wheel – outshone by the stars and the flames but there nonetheless.
Around them, beyond the reach of the firelight, shadows encircled them. Not as a threat, or a warning, but a promise to keep the rest of the world at bay. Just for one night.
Stars and shadows alike watched over the quintet of brothers, themselves guardians of the world, as they took a long-deserved respite to just be.
To be brothers, laughing and scolding as marshmallows were raided, hot chocolate taste-tested too early, blankets claimed and stolen and then reclaimed again.
To be the humans they were, rather than the heroes the world begged for.
To be carefree.
Took me a while to figure this one out, but when I properly sat down to think about it, I could only think of one scene where both stars and shadows would be visible - and there's a little self-indulgence in this, because this is one of the things I miss having the opportunity to do.
Thanks for reading!
Tsari