I needed fluff. Y'all need fluff. Have some fluff.
…
“Excuse me, is Nurse Malinda Russell on shift today?”
Nic turned, then readjusted their eyes downward. There was a maybe seven or eight-year-old boy with brown hair, bright blue eyes, and some killer dimples standing in front of them. There were also a pair of brown eyes peering around one side of the boy, and the most incredible green eyes they had ever seen on the other.
They got down on one knee. “Are you lost, little man?”
That got them a look. “We aren’t lost. This is the neonatal intensive care unit, and if Nurse Russell is on duty today, please tell her that Scott, Virgil, and John Tracy are here to see her.”
That got their attention. Scott Tracy was kind of a legend around the NICU. His art still hung on the break room fridge. Nic stood up. “If you’d wait over there, Mr. Tracy, I’ll see if she’s available.”
Scott, and it had to be Scott, gave him a nod, then herded his younger brothers over to the small waiting area. Nic headed back to the desk and called back. “Hey, Neil, is Mal busy?”
“She’s doing the draws. Should be done in about ten minutes. Why?”
“Because she’s got a visitor.” Nic was feeling ornery and decided to tease it out. The staff of the NICU took small joys whenever and wherever they could.
“Oh, Lord, now what? Not the Jamisons, again.”
Perfect opening. “Nope. Mr. Scott Tracy, and family.” There was a crash, and Nic mentally marked down making Neil drop the handset.
“WHO!?”
“Mr. Scott Tracy, and family.” They couldn’t keep the smirk off their face or out of their voice. Not that they tried very hard.
“You toadlicker. I’ll tell Mal as soon as she’s finished with the draws.”
Nic chuckled to themself and hung up. They kept a weather eye on the three boys. Not that there was any real reason to. Backpacks were taken off, and coloring books and pencils were produced. Juice sacks came out of Scott’s bigger bag for the littles. Scott himself settled down on the couch and started reading an actual paper book! Nic didn’t know many adults, let alone a seven-year-old, that could handle a physical book.
Fifteen minutes later, Malinda popped out through the doors. “Nic? Neil said I had -”
“MS. MALINDA!!”
That was what Nic had been expecting, as a small blue rocket crashed into Mal’s legs and glommed on.
“What! Scott!” Mal freed her legs and returned the hug. Then pulled back. “My word! Look at you. You’ve gotten so big!”
Nic revised their opinion of Scott’s dimples. On a serious face, they were distracting. When paired with a glowing smile, they were devastating. Good God Almighty, that boy was going to be a heartbreaker when he got older without even trying. They shook their head, hopefully, that power would be used for good. Otherwise, the world was doomed.
“Ms. Malinda, you might not remember Virg -”
Mal knelt down to be on eye level with the two younger boys. “Of course, I remember Virgil. I never forget one of my babies.” She held out her hand. “How do you do, Virgil?”
Huge brown eyes stared at her. Scott reached over and held out Virgil’s hand. Which she shook gently. “You’ve gotten big too. You were small enough I could have held you in one hand when you first came here.”
“This is Johnny.”
Who was slightly braver and held his own hand out to be shaken.
“It’s very nice to meet you, John.” The formalities dealt with, she turned to Scott. “As thrilled as I am for the visit, why are you here? Where are your parents?”
“Momma and Daddy are upstairs waiting for Gordon. He’s late.”
“Oh, Sweet Baby Jesus. Nic, call up to maternity and let Col. Tracy know his boys are down here.”
Nic busied themself with that and missed the next part.
“It’s loud up there! Johnny and Virg were getting scared.” Scott stood straight. “I brought them down here because it’s safe.”
Oh, if that didn’t rip the heartstrings, nothing would. Though it said a lot of what Scott thought of the NCIU.
“Sweetie, thank you. But you can’t stay here. Your momma and daddy are going to be worried.”
“Daddy’s in with Momma,” Scott said, then lowered his voice, “there’s yelling in there.”
Mal turned back to them. “Nic?”
“Mrs. Tracy is in hour 10 and holding at 6. Dominic said they are looking at a C, if she’s still like that, at hour 14.” They grinned. “Col. Tracy said, ’Oh thank GOD. I owe you all dinner.‘”
“See! Daddy knows we’re here. I told him before we left. First rule!”
Nic had to laugh at that. “Mal, it’s just for a few hours. I think we’d be willing to give up the nap room for Misters Tracy.” They grinned. “After all, one of them is ours.”
-o-o-o-o-
Nic was still working the desk six hours later when an exhausted father staggered out of the elevator. Not an uncommon sight in the NICU. But usually, they knew all the parents.
“Excuse me. I was told that my sons were down here?”
Damn, if Scott got the voice to go with those dimples, he was going to rule the planet.
“Col. Tracy?”
An exhausted nod.
“Come along, I’ll take you to them.” They led him back into the NICU. “So, everything alright with the new baby?” Nic was pretty sure it was, or they would have heard.
“Yeah. 6 lbs, 10oz, 15 inches. Perfectly healthy, just tiny and stubborn.” He gave a rough chuckle. “I don’t blame him for wanting to stay where it’s warm and safe.”
Nic frowned, that was a damn small baby. They had a cat that was bigger. But maternity would have called if he had needed the NICU. Nic held a finger to their lips and opened the door to the nap room. There, curled up on the bed, were the three boys. Scott had cuddled both his brothers in a contortion only available to very young children.
Their dad leaned on the doorframe and just looked at them. “My hostages to the future.” He looked at Nic. “Would you all mind if I stayed with them for a bit?”
“Not at all, Colonel. Shift change is at five. It will get pretty noisy then.”
He waved his hand. “Can’t be any worse than these three on sugar.” But there was a tired grin to go with the words. He walked in, laid down, and brought all three boys into an embrace.
Nic smiled and started to close the door. “Oh, Colonel?”
“Hmmh?”
The man was half asleep already. “Congratulations and Happy Valentines.”
This is everything I needed right now. Beautifully written!
With everything going on in the world and our personal lives I thought it might be a nice idea to help lift all of the Thunderfam spirits by filling our dashboards with some Thunderbirds art, screenshots, fluffy fic goodness etc..
#TFamLove so we can all find it
❤️
And here’s my first contribution some of my favourite screenshots
The closet door slid open on silent, magnetic tracks that did nothing to break the quiet of the room, but Gordon ignored it. The lack of noise wasn’t the issue that had sent him into the cluttered recesses of his room. It was an itch that resided in his head and hands. One that surfaced on the brightest days and brought with it vague memories that told him he should be happy. Gordon just couldn’t figure out why.
Stepping up on a pile of potentially clean clothes, his hand caught the handle of the old instrument and carefully pulled it from the shelf. It was lighter than he remembered, but that could be blamed on the length of time since he’d last pulled it out. Not enough sunny days to warrant the earworm.
Gordon was already humming the tune as he set the case on his bed and deftly flipped the latches protecting the contents. His smile grew into a toothy grin as the lid flipped open and he felt the strongest word in the song break free into a lilting “ sunshine .” The guitar gleamed up at him, Gordon’s finger tracing over a sunflower sticker he knew his younger hands had placed there. Mom hadn’t been angry - that he remembered - but there had been a promise that any more would take away from how special the flower was.
It was something that worked pretty much every time.
John was their polyglot, constantly learning and mastering new languages as he strove to communicate with everyone who called for help. Automatic translators helped a lot, but there was something to be said (heh) about being able to speak to someone in their own language, mastering nuance, regional accent and idiom. As a result of his learnings he collected strange words and phrases of interest, sharing them with his family.
There was one particular one that Alan had tucked away for days just like this.
It had been A Day. That was the only way to describe it. Just one of those days where every minute feels twice as long and by the end of it you feel drained and just so absolutely Done. There hadn’t even been anything particularly bad about it, just a bunch of Things that took more out of everyone than they had a right to and made everyone feel vaguely guilty for feeling this Done over Things that on their own were so little that they didn’t feel like they could justify being in such a mood about. Tempers had gotten short as people ran out of energy and once everyone got home, people just scattered to have their own bad moods in their own private little hidey holes- Virgil in his art studio, Gordon down at his favourite cove, Scott up on one of the peaks, Kayo to the gym. You could almost see the hovering storm clouds.
Alan sprawled outside on the still warm patio and looked up to where he could see the glint of reflected light that was Thunderbird 5 tracking across the night sky. John had had the worst day out of all of them, he’d hid it well, but Alan had learned to speak Big Bro #2 a long time ago- all the little shifts of eyes and shoulders and the nuance of tone that told him his fellow Space Bro was Really Done.
Time to fix that. Alan grinned as he rolled onto his belly, grabbed his phone to check the time -good, it was just before John’s scheduled bed time- and selected the audio-only link to Five.
Technically it wasn’t the actual Welsh word for ‘microwave’ but a colloquialism, but the sheer onomatopoeic nature of it amused John, so that made it worth remembering. He only deployed it occasionally, lest it lose its effectiveness, but today definitely called for it.
“Hey John?” Alan asked as soon as the connection was secure.
“Yes, Alan?” Though John did well to mostly hide it, every letter dripped with weariness.
“Popty ping.”
The muffled snort turned into a chuckle which turned into the rare full on laughter from John as his bad mood evaporated. Eventually it subsided but Alan could hear the smile lingering as John spoke again.
“Thanks Alan, I needed that.”
“You’re welcome, bro.” Alan grinned back. “Sleep well.”
‘Do not disturb’ was the title of the alert that pinged up on everyone’s tablets, phones, bracer computers and HUDs one balmy afternoon on Tracy Island.
It was both a warning and a caption for the attached photo.
The photo in question was of the conversation pit in the lounge, a candid snap of Jeff and Scott.
It was utterly adorable.
Things had been hectic on both the TI and IR sides of life thanks to end of financial year coinciding with a swarm of tropical storms in the Caribbean sea and a tunnel fire in Sweden. While Jeff was in the process of taking back the role of CEO, he was still being brought up to speed on all the changes in both organisations and because Scott had been in charge for the previous year he still needed to be fully involved in the EOFY paperwork. Both of them had been burning the candle at both ends for a good few days.
So when Virgil had wandered into the lounge and found the two of them like that, he made sure to update the family so that they’d be left in peace.
Jeff had obviously been reading reports, going by the still active tablet sitting on his left knee. He was sitting on the green couch and the fact he was wedged into the corner was probably the main reason he was still mostly upright, his head back as he snored softly, deep asleep. Jeff’s right leg was occupied by Scott, the eldest fast asleep and using his father’s leg as a pillow. His long legs were hooked over the armrest, one arm dangling down onto the floor, the other draped over his eyes to block out the light.
What completed the picture was the protective hand that Jeff had placed on his son’s chest.
Virgil smiled at the sight, made a mental note to have some food on the desk for when they eventually woke up and tiptoed away
Miscalculated- a sibling fluff snippet because I desperately needed to write one.
In which John picked a movie to watch with Alan. John didn’t pick well.
Running footsteps registered first, then his door banged open and a small figure bolted into his room, all but flew under the blankets and huddled up against him. Scott was awake enough to drape an arm over the trembling lump curled against his chest and look towards the open door as he became aware of a second set of running footsteps that heralded John, the second born looking sheepish.
“John?” Scott squinted against the light from the hallway. “Why is,” he paused to lift the blankets and check which small blond it was, “Alan in my bed?”
“I, uh, may have miscalculated.” John came in and crouched beside the bed to add his contribution to the comforting pats currently being delivered to the youngest.
“…miscalculated how?” Scott looked at him suspiciously.
“I, uh, may have let Alan watch Alien with me.” Was the reluctant admission.
Scott mentally face palmed. “Which Alien?” He asked. It’d been a pretty popular movie title over the years, but knowing his brother’s tastes as a classic sci-fi movie buff, he had suspicions.
“The 1979 one.” John admitted, looking down.
“The one with the facehuggers!?” Scott actually face palmed this time. “John! Why?”
“I forgot how bad it was!” John tried to defend himself. “We stopped before they got back on the ship.”
“John, you’re an idiot.” Scott sighed and pointed to the lump under his covers. “Did you forget this one is Alan who is seven. Se-ven. Gordon is the older one.” He shuffled back to make room, tugging Alan to move with him. “In. Help me fix this.”
“Understood.” John nodded and climbed in to help calm and comfort the understandably freaked out child.
I know, I know, I said I was done, but I woke up with an idea and dearly needed to write some fluff.
Tracy puppy piles, Kayo reflected with a smile, were hazardous.
If brothers #1, #3, or #5 had clamped onto you during the night, there really was no escaping until they woke up, and if #2 had made an executive decision and silenced everyone’s alarms, when they woke would be anyone’s guess.
Lifting her head from where Virgil had tucked her against his side, she looked over the tangle of sleeping bodies to where an amused John was contemplating if he could escape the limpet in human form that was Alan- the youngest had both arms and a leg wrapped around John and his head burrowed against John’s stomach.
They’d all shifted around during the night from where they’d originally arranged themselves on Scott’s king-sized bed. He’d needed a king because of his height, but the not-quite-joke was that he’d upgraded to a full king, not a king single, because of how often things like this happened.
Right now Virgil was on his back in the middle of the bed and Scott was lying on top of Virgil, head on his chest. Virgil had one arm draped over Scott and the other locked around Kayo, keeping her close. Gordon was on his side with his head on Virgil’s shoulder and the rest of him wedged at the head of the bed, half curled up. John was just below Gordon, his head level with Virgil’s waist and on his side with Alan glommed onto him, squeezed into the space between Virgil and Scott’s legs and John.
“I could tickle Virgil.” Kayo softly offered to John, knowing that the middle brother was notoriously ticklish- as a child you’d just have to wiggle your fingers in his direction and he’d squeal and run, his arms wrapped protectively around his ribs.
“…no, he’ll throw Scott off.” John replied after a moment of contemplation. “Do you have anywhere you need to be?” He asked instead.
“No, not really.” She replied.
“Then go back to sleep. EOS is on dispatch, the world can wait for us for once.” Was John’s soft declaration as he laid his head back down and resettled himself, eyes closing and breathing out a long sigh as he relaxed into sleep.
That seemed like a remarkably good idea to Kayo and she stretched a little and did likewise, resting her forehead against Virgil’s side and feeling him wake just enough to give her a little squeeze.
In the space of a few breaths, they were all back to sleep.
Problems of shopping with an American when you live in England number five hundred and two.
Me: Don’t go anywhere, don’t move from that spot, you got it?
Virgil: *nods* Got it. All good. No need to worry. Situation is under control.
Me: You sure?
V: I’m sure.
Me: I’ll be two minutes, I’m just picking up an order and then we can go.
V:*crosses his arms and leans casually against the nearest shop fitting* It’s fine, I don’t mind shopping.
Me: This is why you’re my favourite.
V: You said that to Alan yesterday because he shared his chips with you.
Me: Maybe I lied.
V: Maybe you’re lying now.
Me: I am, you got me, I’m gonna be at least ten minutes because that line looks huge.
V: Better hurry up then.
Me: On it *salutes and runs off deeper into the store*
V:This won’t be too bad…
Sales assistant: *pops up out of nowhere like a meerkat the second I leave* Hello sir.
V: *jumps out of his skin* Oh, uh, hello.
SA: What can I interest you in today?
V: Oh, nothing, thank you, I’m just waiting for my sister.
SA: You’re here now so you might as well take a look around.
V: Actually, I promised my sister I wouldn’t move.
SA: Oh, we won’t go far. Just follow me, and I’ll show you some of our newest items that might suit a strapping fellow like yourself.
V: No! I… *Gets hustled along and gives up trying to argue*
SA: What are you in need of?
V: Nothing, I’m good, got all I need.
SA: Nonsense, everyone needs something.
V: *pondering* I guess I could use a new pair of pants, I blew a hole right through my last pair.
SA: A hole? *eyes grow a little wide* Oh, erm *clears her throat, recovering her composure* Right this way, sir.
V: *follows along behind like a giant puppy*
SA: Do you have a style preference?
V: Not really, just standard pants, standard cut, but I do need them to be hard wearing as they’ll take a bit of a battering.
SA: *coughs delicately* Indeed, sir. And what kind of material?
V: I usually stick with denim.
SA: I… I’m sorry sir, but we don’t carry anything of that sort.
V: *looking confused, her tone indicating that ‘that sort’ was something displeasing and rather obscene* O…K, then can you just show me what you do have?
SA: Of course *stops near the department and looks him up and down* For sizing I’d assume a large or extra large?
V: *blushes a little, he thought he kept himself in reasonably good shape quite honestly* I don’t know I don’t usually have that kind of sizing.
SA: *straightens her shoulders, obviously wishing she’d never approached him in the first place* Then let’s stick with style, we have boxers, briefs or trunks along with the less traditional jockstrap style if you feel so inclined.
V: *chokes and splutters* Excuse me?
SA: * holds up a pair of boxers to his front* These look like they would suit you, they are quite hard-wearing, extra strong elastic, plenty of room for-
V: *snatches the boxers away, face bright red* I just want some pants, just a plain pair of pants!
Me: *ambling over with my order* Why are you screaming and waving a pair of pants around?
V: I’m not! *Still holding the boxers*
Me: *points at them* Pants.
V: These are boxers, underwear, not what I wanted at all. I just wanted some pants! I didn’t want to be paraded around the underwear section and have my size debated!
Me: You asked for pants. Those are pants.
V: No, these are pants! *Slaps his thigh then yanks at the seam of his jeans*
Me: Oh. He means that he wants a pair of trousers or jeans.
SA: Oh, well he could have just said that.
Poor Virgil, he’s never going to forgive me for leaving him alone in the menswear department.
It was very odd, Lucy thought, as she watched Virgil sleep.
He’d been up for hours, wailing and refusing to be comforted. He wasn’t wet, he wasn’t feverish, had been doing all the important things babies do when they’re healthy…but still he would not sleep!
As the sun came up, Lucy tucked Virgil into the babywearing sling and shuffled into the kitchen to make herself a much-needed cup of coffee. Jeff would drop Scott off at preschool, and John, her quiet child, would give her no trouble, but she’d need all the moxie she could get to stay awake after this all-nighter.
Then a curious thing happened: The moment the fresh, hot brew sputtered into her cup, Virgil quieted. He blinked a few times, then yawned, and by the time she’d added milk and sugar, he was sound asleep.
Jeff thought she was nuts, but when she demonstrated a few nights later, he had to believe: Virgil, at the ripe old age of two months, loved coffee.
Two years later…
Lucy was nursing Gordon and drowsing in her chair, slowly rocking and humming to her sleepy, milk-drunk newborn. A tiny hand pulled on her pant leg, and she woke to see Virgil standing beside her. “Hello, sweetheart. What can Mommy do for you?”
“Mama coffee,” he said, pulling at her hand.
She chuckled. “Maybe you’re right, love. Maybe Mama does need a little bit.” She gathered Gordon up and rise from her chair, then put him over her shoulder to burp as the coffee brewed. She turned away to retrieve the milk from the fridge—and saw a tip-free tumbler next to her mug. There was Virgil, grinning at her.
“No, coffee is for grown ups, sweetie.” She went back to the fridge. “How about some apple juice?”
He shook his head. “Want coffee!”
She looked at him for a long moment, then said: “okay. Mama will make you your very own ‘coffee.’”
Virgil clapped his hands in delight.
Lucy poured his cup full of milk, added a half teaspoon of sugar, then splashed a small dollop of coffee from her cup into his. She stirred it well, blew on it until it was only lukewarm, snapped on the spill-proof lid, then handed it to him. “Here you are. Try that.”
She fully expected him to make a horrible face and tell her “ew, nasty!” However, Virgil climbed up on the chair next to her and promptly drank from his cup. His brown eyes lit up. “Good!”
“Oh dear God,” she laughed. “What have I done?”
Many years later…
Virgil stumbled into the kitchen, yawning. First things first: Coffee.
“You know,” said Scott, sitting at the table with his own cup, “I can’t remember when you didn’t drink coffee.”
“Oh?” Virgil poured a cup full of the elixir of life. “Hmm. Neither can I.” He gazed into his cup with a fond smile. “I dunno why, but it always reminds me of Mom.”
-End-
Awww, that last line….
Beautiful
Nutty
(Returned from first day back at work…have fallen on face)
::gasps:: This is the most adorable, wholesome thing in the world and I love it I love it I love it!! My new comfort fic!!
Jeff cursed NASA once more as a socked foot kicked him in the stomach. It was too hot to be cocooned in the sleeping bags provided but that wasn’t the cause of the cursing as once more a foot kicked out.
Huffing, Jeff climbed out of the tent with the bag and lay down immediately outside using it as a mattress. The stars held his attention for all of five minutes before he drifted off to sleep.
It seemed like he had only been asleep for five minutes when he was rudely awoken by a kick to the ribs and a weight on his already bruised stomach. This time it was Lee who was cussing, and once Jeff had untangled himself from his best friend the two had a fine layer of dirt all over them.
‘What the hell, Jeff?’
‘Sorry, sorry, Lee.’
The two got themselves up and turned to look at the tent behind them.
‘Why the hell were you outside the tent?’
‘You’re kidding, right?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I didn’t sleep a wink!’
‘I slept like a baby, Jeff.’
‘I know you did, Lee. You spent the night kicking me so eventually I left.’
They regarded the tent again.
‘Well, I know one thing I’ll be putting in my report.’
‘What’s that, Jeff?’
‘Two-man tents for two 6-foot plus men if they need it are just not a good idea.’
They nodded and turned to each other, speaking in unison.
What a completely perfect read on a hot day like today. I love the images you paint of all of them enjoying themselves - floating, fishing, letting their hair down (literally, in Kayo’s case). A gorgeous, relaxing, cheeky and completely wonderful bit of fluff. ❤️
