Disclaimer: I don't own Thunderbirds.

Thunderbird Two tended to collect clutter. A dropped toy here, a broken bit of machinery there… As the Thunderbird that took on the most non-IR personnel, most of her passengers were rescuees covered in mud, dust and debris, and that translated to the state of her cockpit.

There was never enough time in the day to properly clean it all up, so Virgil had got into the habit of sweeping it all up into a box, which lived in the corner of one of her lockers, to be sorted through later.

Later, as though later ever came. Missions and maintenance always took priority, and then there was patching up irresponsible brothers, or helping with Thunderbird Three (Scott and Gordon could and largely did handle their own Thunderbirds themselves, but if Thunderbird Two was huge, Three was immense. Virgil never dared think about Five; trusting John to have his off-Earth home well in hand). All the while, the little box in the locker got heavier and heavier as more and more items found themselves swept inside.

Sometimes, they got a call – tearful children or their resigned parents – asking if they'd seen so-and-so the toy, because the child was sure they'd had it when they boarded but there was no sign of it now. Virgil didn't have to ask to know those were among John's favourite to receive. No lives in danger, no undue stress, just a normally-polite request.

It helped that the answer was often yes.

There was, of course, nothing quite like the adrenaline rush of knowing they'd saved someone's life out in the field – that someone was going to live despite the odds stacked against them, because International Rescue made miracles happen – but one of Virgil's favourite things was seeing a holographic face light up in delight when he located the toy in question and held it up for them to confirm.

The sheer relief of a parent, because their child wasn't devastated anymore. The excited shrieks of delight that their bestest friend in the entire world was safe from a child. Virgil's heart had a special place for those holographic reunions.

Practically, it wasn't possible for him to personally drop the toy off, but Virgil always made sure to enclose something in the parcel alongside. A sketch of the toy, enjoying their stay in Thunderbird Two. The child and the toy, perhaps. If it was a toy that recorded noises, he sometimes played a little tune for them.

His brothers knew about his little collection. John, of course, knew from the first inquiring call, where Virgil was able to tell the little girl that yes, Sparky was safe and sound with International Rescue and would make his way home as soon as they were in the area again. Gordon found the box whilst looking for somewhere to stash something – Virgil never did find out what Gordon had been planning – and somewhere along the line Alan and Scott found out as well.

Scott even added to the box sometimes, on the rare occasion he carried a passenger in One and they forgot something. "They'll be safer with you," was his shrugged response when Virgil caught him depositing a pair of miniature dolls in the box. While it was true that Thunderbird Two was safer storage than her speedy sister, it didn't fully explain why Scott didn't just keep his own box in the hangar, rather than traipsing across to Thunderbird Two every time.

It was John that told him Scott liked the way his mood lifted whenever he reunited a child with their lost toy, after Virgil wondered about it in his earshot. How John knew that, Virgil didn't bother to ask. For as long as he could remember, John had always known more than he rightfully should – especially when it came to Scott.

Virgil didn't know how Kayo found out, but he did remember the day he'd left Two, latest reclaimed toy in hand, to find her standing there in full gear and her hand outstretched.

"I'm heading that way, anyway," she'd said flatly, and Virgil had handed the package over with no complaints. After that, she must have set up an arrangement with John, because no sooner was a toy identified then she was there, all suited up and ready to go.

That, his other brothers didn't know about. They assumed the toys went in the post, like everything else they sent out from the island, and for as long as Kayo declined to tell them the truth, Virgil was happy to go along with it.

There was no-one else he'd rather trust with the deliveries, anyway.

Every so often, he found the time to glance through the box, toys mixed with other pieces of clutter – those were sometimes asked after, too, and Virgil made sure to never throw anything away because one man's trash was often another man's treasure – and wondered which one would be next to find their way home.

Today's offering is for #fluffember day 17 - Trinket. This is not a new idea, although I confess I don't remember exactly who's done a similar premise before, but it's a cute one so I decided to join the collection!

Thanks for reading!
Tsari