Author's Note: It's been an extremely long time since I have last written or posted a fic - almost two years!
A lot has happened since - the biggest thing being becoming a mum and also returning full-time to work (still not sure why I was silly enough to be the only one to come back full mat leave full-time...!)
Anyway, back to the topic - I finally managed to hop onto Nutty's FabFiveFeb writing challenge on Tumblr! Thanks for organising, Nutty! :)
One of the prompts given was 'necklace' and this random plot bunny popped up! I hope you enjoy the read :)
Just to note, those is set pre-IR, and, although not directly mentioned, is set back at the Gran Roca Ranch (as featured in the TAG episode 'Home on the Range').
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Thunderbirds Are Go - they belong to the late Gerry and Silvia Anderson
"Why are you wearing a necklace?"
Impossibly large, innocent blue eyes glanced up in genuine curiosity.
Small, slightly chubby hands reached upwards, trying to grasp for something that was too far out of reach.
"I thought only girls wear necklaces," a huff and a pout. "And you're not a girl."
Childhood train of thought was a combination of verbal bluntness and sincerity, accompanied by a little pinch of brutality.
Little Alan Tracy tilted his head as he stood there, his gaze never leaving the shiny objects dangling from his brother's neck. He made another attempt to grab at the foreign object, jumping as high as he could in an attempt to pluck at the shiny metal.
"Did a girl give it to you?"
Another jump and unsuccessful attempt at acquiring the object of the youngest Tracy's interest.
"Did she give it to you to say sorry?"
"Sorry?" Scott blinked at the seemingly random question from his brother, tilting his head in a similar fashion that Alan had displayed just moments before. "Sorry for what?"
Alan's answer was simple. "Because she cut your hair too short."
There was a choked exclamation followed by a wet coughing as, upon wandering into the lounge from the kitchen, Virgil Tracy spat out his drink upon hearing their youngest sibling's matter-of-fact statement.
Scott sighed as he unconsciously ran a hand through his hair.
His too short hair.
Damn Air Force rules...
Having to cut his hair regulation short when he enlisted had been something which he had either overlooked or had been pushed right to the back of his brain.
In the doorway, Virgil had managed to successfully stop himself from choking on his glass of orange juice. Clearing his throat, he wandered into the lounge, flopping down on the nearest sofa.
"Sorry, sorry," he waved a hand apologetically. "Thought you'd gotten over it by now..."
He glanced up to see his eldest brother glaring at him.
Ah, apparently, it was still a bit of a sore topic.
"I actually prefer your hair shorter," Virgil continued, reaching over the arm of the sofa for his sketchbook. "I think it shows off more of your manly charm. I mean, the choppy, rugged curtains look was nice and all, but I think you'll definitely get more attention from the ladies like this."
"Really?" Scott pouted at his brother.
"Totally," Virgil replied, not glancing up from his sketchbook as charcoal glided deftly over rough paper. "Plus, girls totally dig a guy in uniform."
"Ew! Are you talking about romance?" Alan scrunched up his round face. "Gross!"
Both of his older brothers chuckled in response.
"Anyway, you didn't answer me," the blond huffed, stamping his foot. "Why are you wearing a necklace? Who gave it to you?"
Scott sighed, trying to come up with an answer that would both be honest and would not upset their youngest sibling too much. He had literally been home on leave for less than twenty-four hours... His brain was nowhere near ready for these kinds of question and answer sessions, nor the sudden amount of attention that he was receiving from his family - although Grandma's apple pies were definitely a welcoming (and extremely delicious) treat.
"Firstly, Squirt, it's not a necklace," his fingers wrapped around the cool alloy chain around his neck. "These are called 'dog tags'-"
"But you're not a dog." Alan pointed out truthfully.
Virgil stifled another snigger.
Scott chose to ignore his raven-haired brother; instead giving Alan his most patient smile.
"That's very true," he said gently. "But these aren't for doggies. They're for people that are in the military."
"Air Force." Alan corrected.
"Same thing, buddy."
"Oh..."
Scott couldn't help but laugh a little before he removed his dog tags and offered them to his youngest brother for inspection.
"These have your name and stuff on them," Alan scrutinised each identification plate with a very serious look on his face. "But you know who you are, right?"
"That's right, Squirt."
"So why do you need them? And why do these have the same stuff on both of them?"
Oh boy...
Scott wondered if he ever drove his mother - rest her soul - up the wall with such incessant questioning when he was Alan's age. Especially considering how much his father had been absent on missions whilst he had been growing up...
He glanced in Virgil's direction, silently hoping that her would get an assist.
His artist of a brother was busy blending the charcoal of his sketch with the pad of his finger; dark eyebrows knitted together in concentration.
Chewing the inside of his lip in thought, Scott thought very carefully before answering. "Well, these are very special, you see? These are in case I ever... get lost."
"Lost?" Alan echoed innocently.
A nod. "Yeah. Or if I get really unwell and they need to let a special doctor know."
"But why two?"
"Well, one bit stays with me, and the other bit-"
"What in tarnation are you boys up to?" Sally Tracy's voice startled all three boys as she seemingly appeared out of nowhere. "Dinner's nearly ready!"
Scott inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. Saved by the (dinner) bell...
"Alan, be a dear and go fetch your brother Gordon, please?" Sally gave the blond child a warm smile. "Maybe ask him to wash his hands very well before dinner? You know what a messy boy he is. Especially when he's been cleaning the horses in the stable."
"Yes, Grandma!" Alan beamed, springing into action. He suddenly stopped, nearly tripping over his own feet, before whirling around and briskly walking back towards his eldest brother.
"Here," he held out Scott's military dog tags, offering him a big smile and showing off the large gap where he had lost his upper central baby incisor just a few days prior. "I hope you never get lost, Scotty."
For a moment, Scott felt just a little emotional. He quickly pushed that sensation as far to the back of his mind as possible as he reached out to take his dog tags back.
"Me too, Squirt," he gave Alan his warmest smile as he looped the chain back around his neck, this time being mindful to tuck the dog tags under his t-shirt. "Me too."
Author's Note: So, I totally have this headcanons that pre-Air Force Scott had that 90's boy and curtains hairstyle. Kind of like Leon S. Kennedy from the Resident Evil / Biohazard series. And JanetM74 totally agreed with me when I brought it up to her one day, which absolutely nailed the headcanon down with me. Sorry not sorry ^^;
Thanks so much for reading! :3