Pink Feathers
Author's notes: Many thanks to my betas LMC, Skywench and Quiller for their support and encouragement (and nagging!). Any remaining mistakes are my own.
Chapter 1: Anyone for Tennis?
The two men faced each other across the tennis court. It was match point to the server. He took a ball from his pocket and bounced it a couple of times on the ground. Then he peered closely at it and brushed off a speck of imaginary dirt. He prepared himself, threw the ball high and then hit it hard. It smashed into the net. He cursed. He took another ball from his pocket and readied himself to serve again.
Waiting to receive the serve, Gordon bounced lightly on the balls of his feet. He had no idea how the game had got to this state of affairs. Usually, he had little trouble beating Virgil at tennis. Virgil had viciously powerful serves but that was the only advantage to his game. Gordon, on the other hand, had a major plus in the agility stakes and found he could usually tire his big brother out by running around the court faster and longer than him. If that failed, he resorted to a non-stop verbal commentary which usually irritated Virgil enough to put him off his game.
Today, unfortunately for Gordon, Virgil was focused and determined. Gordon didn't like this state of mind in Virgil. On rescues it was a huge bonus but back at Base he preferred it when Virgil was relaxed and laid-back as it made him a whole lot easier to deal with and meant he was an easy victim to Gordon's practical jokes.
"I've got you rattled, admit it?" Gordon suggested hopefully. Virgil didn't reply. He served and hit the ball with such force that Gordon barely saw it land in the service box, bounce up and whistle past his ear. There was a clink as the ball hit the wire fence behind him. Gordon looked across at Virgil. Virgil appeared surprised at the shot but when he saw Gordon watching him he quickly changed his expression to smug.
"Game, set and match!" he said cheerfully. He walked across the court grinning from ear to ear and held his hand over the net for Gordon to shake. Gordon walked over to him and shook the proffered hand.
"Not bad for an old guy," said Gordon.
"Save the 'old guy' cracks for Scott."
"Okay, not bad for a fat guy."
"Fat? This is all muscle, skinny butt."
"You got lucky."
"Luck had nothing to do with it. I'm just a better player than you."
"You wish!"
Virgil was still smiling. "Just accept your defeat gracefully. That's 200 bucks you owe me."
"We said 100!"
"It was definitely 200. Cash would be good but I'd accept a bank transfer as long as it's in my account by tomorrow."
"Double or quits?"
"In your dreams. Just pay up and shut up." Virgil strode off the court with a barely-concealed swagger. Gordon watched him go with narrowed eyes. Oh, he'd pay his smart-ass brother back alright and soon.
