BUZZ OFF by LOOPSTAGIRL RATED FRPT

John has an unwelcome visitor aboard Thunderbird Five...

“Thunderbird Three to Thunderbird Five. We’ve just left base. Be with you shortly. F.A.B.”

“Righto Sprout. See you in a bit. Fly safe. F.A.B.” John climbed happily out of his control chair, glad to be going home for a few days. A near disaster in a recent rescue had made Jeff think that it was about time all five boys spent some quality time together, so Brains was coming up to relieve John for a few days. For his part, John couldn’t wait to get back home, even if Virgil was going to be grumpy. After breaking his arm and spraining the opposite wrist, the artist was not happy that he couldn’t play the piano for a while. Things were obviously getting bad if all of a sudden it had taken Alan, Gordon AND Scott to bring Brains up and John home.

Running his well trained eye over his baby, John was happy that everything was how it should be. He was a lot more comfortable leaving her in Brains’ capable hands than any one else. If it was Gordon staying up here, he would have been very apprehensive by now. But as it was not, his bags were packed and waiting by the `door` of Thunderbird Five, ready to go. On second thoughts, John reckoned that he should probably move them or the first person through would fall over them. The thought was swiftly driven from his mind as something caught his eye on the control panel. Something was setting off the motion sensor in his living quarters.

Glancing at the control panel in confusion, John double checked the readings. Yep, something was definitely in there. But he was in a space station that no one knew the location of apart from a very select few. So what was setting off the motion sensor?

The frown still crossing his handsome features, John made his way to what was more fondly known as his bedroom. The door swished open almost silently and John glanced around. There didn’t seem to be anything out of place at all. Deciding that it was better to be safe than sorry, he began thoroughly searching the room. An annoying buzz kept occurring from somewhere near the ceiling, but apart from that, everything was how it should be. Even more confused now than when he started, John headed back to the controls, wanting to know whether it was still reading motion.

One glance at the controls told him all he wanted to know. The motion sensors could no longer pick anything up. Must have just been a small blip in the system. Automatically running through checks for everything else, John made a mental note to mention it to Brains when he arrived. The diagnostics showed that everything else was all fine, meaning there was nothing to worry about. Sitting back in his chair in puzzlement, John absent mindedly brushed his hand across his face to get rid of an annoying fly that was buzzing around his head. Hang on...a fly? There had been that mysterious buzzing noise in his room...

John couldn’t stop himself laughing as he realised what had happened. Maybe he should mention to Brains just how sensitive his sensors were, they were reacting to a FLY! As John sat back contemplating the absurdity of the situation, the annoying thing wouldn’t stop buzzing around. Waving his hand distractedly around his head, John tried to focus on the job at hand. Now that he had begun to run the diagnostics, the blond astronaut decided that he may as well finish the job whilst he was waiting for his brothers to arrive. He was fully aware that with Alan piloting, they would be trying to go fast. However, it depended on who was being co-pilot. If it was Gordon, then they would probably get here in record speeds. But if it was Scott, they would be taking a lot longer. The diagnostics were proving to be tricky, along with a continuous droning of that accursed fly meant that everything was taking twice as long as it should have.

After managing to hit himself in the ear in an attempt to hit the fly, John decided to that he was going to focus all of his attention on the annoying thing that was so successfully distracting him. Rubbing the now sore ear, John glanced around, trying to work out where it had got too. As if to mock him, the pest was slowly crawling across the control panel, right in front of him. Grabbing a nearby piece of paper, John carefully rolled it up, his eyes never leaving the fly. With a whack, John bought the piece of paper down on where he thought the fly was, not feeling guilty in the slightest about the report that his father had sent him that was now in the process of being destroyed. Believing that he had been successful, John looked down in triumphant, only to be distracted once again by a buzzing around his head. Damn it, he had missed!

As the fly once more began to crawl across the panels, John bought the report down in quick succession, trying to catch the pest out. To his dismay, every time the report made contact with the control panel, an annoying buzz would momentarily sound whilst the fly moved to a safe location, only to have the entire process repeat again and again. After losing count of the amount of times that he had missed, John declared war. If any of his brothers, Gordon in particular, got wind that he had been defeated by a mere fly, he would never live it down. Reaching over, John picked up yet another report and rolled it up. Now fully armed with a report in both hands, John glared at the small creature. He could have sworn that the fly was simply sitting there, mockingly glaring back at him. Without a second thought, John brought both reports down, his quick reflexes meant that there was barely a second in which the fly was not under attack.

Brushing his hair out of his eyes, John sat back, panting. The reports in his hand were completely destroyed, yet the stupid fly was still sitting there, just looking at him. John began to wonder if it had actually moved at all and that he was somehow just missing every time. Yet he was sure that even though he was not the best shot on the team, there was no way that he could miss something that many times in a row. If not for the evidence sitting in front of him, John would have even said that the idea was laughable. As John caught his breath during his quick break on the attack, a flashing light caught his eye. Flicking the switch, John found himself face to face with his older brother.

“Was just about to let you know that we will be with you in around five,” Scott told him over the screen, frowning at the exhausted appearance of his brother. “Are you alright Johnny? You look like you’ve been in a fight.”

John glanced back at Scott, barely hearing a word that he had said. The fly had been slowly crawling towards the centre of the control panel and now sat in the middle of a button. Not taking his eye off the fly, John answered Scott, even as he was rolling up a new report.

“Just had a slight problem with the controls. An unwelcome visitor decided to come and annoy the hell out of me!”

“Wow, and that’s before Gordon arrived.” John, however didn’t hear Scott’s reply, nor the muffled “OI!” that sounded from somewhere behind him. His eyes were fixed on the fly, a deadly look in his eye. Very, very slowly, John raised his arm, before bringing it down with a smack.

THWACK! The report hit the button square in the middle, right where the fly had been sitting. To John’s absolute dismay, the damn thing had moved just in time, again. With a curse, John looked back at Scott’s bemused face, only to realise what he had just done.

Swearing under his breath, John didn’t miss Scott’s appraisal, even as he began to rise off the floor. As his feet took up their new position above his head, John struggled to hold onto the top of the command chair. He still could see Scott’s face in the screen, albeit now upside down. Scott looked a mixture of confusion, astonishment and amusement.

“Any particular reason you decided to turn the gravity off, John?” he asked, the laughter all too evident in his voice. He had seen John bring his arm holding the piece of paper down, knew that there was no technical fault or anything to worry about. Apart from John, who by this point was desperately trying to claw his way over to the panel without letting go of the chair, cursing continuously.

Without answering his brother, John continued the journey over to the button that would once again make his world the right way up. If flies had brains, then this one had definitely planned for this to happen. John was sure that he could almost see it planning out the best strategy of attack. Shaking his head, John wondered what was happening to his sanity. Since when could a fly co-ordinate an attack? For heavens sake, this was getting too ridiculous for words! With his head hanging upside down, John peered through his arms to see that both of his bags were now on the ceiling, floating unceremoniously around a light bulb. And hovering just below them, a certain fly was buzzing around, looking for all the world like it was gloating.

With a huge heave, John let go of the chair, propelling himself forward with the well practiced ease of being in anti-gravity situations more times than he would like to account for. Just before he crashed head first into the panel, John bought his fist smacking down on the button, and as gravity was restored, fell with a thud straight into his chair. The thuds from behind him made him aware that his suitcases had also fallen. Daring a glance behind him, John knew that it was too desperate to hope that the suitcases had bought the fly down with them. There it was, still buzzing around annoyingly. As Scott’s voice once again cut through the air, John turned his attention back towards his brother.

“We were just about to operate docking procedures. You ready for us John, or shall we take a lap of the earth before coming back?”

“Haha,” John replied sarcastically, “Dock away, Scotty boy, I’m ready for you. F.A.B.”

John straightened himself in his chair and tried to look like he was in control of everything as he watched Thunderbird Three attach itself with ease to the side of Thunderbird Five. The smoothness of it all impressed John, Alan had sure learnt fast. John turned in his seat to face the opening, his excitement building within him at the thought of seeing his brothers again. It had been too long.

As he waited for the door to swish open, something caught his eye. Perching on the top of the door, the fly watched him closely. As it didn’t appear to be moving, John felt an evil grin spread across his face. Not letting anything distract him from his target, John slowly bent down and pulled off his boot. With a well practised ease, he drew his arm back and flung the shoe at the fly. At the same moment, the door opened.

Years of training the in the air force meant that Scott had unnerving reactions. As soon as the door began to open, he knew that something was coming and instinctively ducked. Just as he did so, the missile flew straight over his head. Following him in, Gordon was not so lucky. He had just turned back to say something to Alan and spun in time to be greeted by his brothers boot, straight in the face. He stood there in shock, momentarily speechless. Alan and Scott had no such reservations and immediately burst out laughing. Blushing crimson, John hurried over to them, apologising profusely to Gordon.

“You know, Gordo, I think you’ve just been kicked out,” Gordon turned to glare at Alan, who was having to hold himself up by the railing, he was laughing too much to be able to stand on his own.

“Yeah, what was it you’ve always accused your older brothers of?” Scott joined in, slightly more in control of himself than Alan, although it was only by a fraction. “Didn’t you think that we always walked all over you?”

As Gordon’s face clouded over, John couldn’t help himself and also burst out laughing. As much as it was an accident, it was quite nice to have the upper hand over the younger troublemakers for a change. Although he was sure that he would pay for that later. Scott carried on into the main chamber of Thunderbird Five, automatically skirting around the suitcases from where they were strewn across the opening. He seemed to have realised where John would have put them and therefore worked out where they would have fallen when gravity was restored.

However, a certain younger Tracy was not so lucky. Still glaring at Alan, Gordon didn’t notice the cases. Even as John opened his mouth to warn him, he was sent sprawling. As Alan once again broke into hysterics, John was starting to wonder whether they would need to fetch the oxygen mask, Alan certainly seemed to be having trouble breathing. Gordon scrambled to his feet, allowing Alan and Brains to enter behind him. After greeting the scientist and giving him the low down on everything technical that was going on with his `bird, John turned expectantly to Scott, who was standing by the control panel.

John opened his mouth to ask his brother whether they could leave immediately, when he froze. Hovering directly above Scott’s head, John’s new nemesis danced daringly. After hissing at Scott not to move a muscle, John bent down and removed his other shoe. Lobbing it directly at the fly, John was certain that he had hit it this time. Hurrying over, John ignored the looks that everyone else was giving him. Retrieving his boot, John searched for any sign that he had finally won. There was nothing to be found, apart from a buzzing noise near the ceiling. Groaning, John turned to his brothers, begging them to get him out of here.

The look that all three gave each other was one of concern. They normally had to pry John away from his beloved `bird, yet here he was, begging to go. Keeping his voice low, as if to reassure his brother, Scott quickly took charge of the situation. He and Gordon picked up a bag each and Alan hurried back into Thunderbird Three, anxious to start the pre-flight checks so that they could get John home. John paused by the doorway, taking one last look around Thunderbird Five. He was like this every time he had to leave, even though he knew he would be up here again in a matter of days. For the first time in a long time, John was partially glad to be going. The annoyance of the fly made him long for the open spaces of Tracy Island. At least there, he could get away from nuisances, whatever form they came in.

Catching Brains’ eye, John knew that he had left her in good hands. The genius nodded to him, his eyes already on the control panel. Just as John stepped through the door, a thud made him look back. Brains had his hand on the control panel, obviously having rather forcefully bought it down. Seeing the younger man frown at him, Brains shrugged.

“T...There was a f...f...fly. It has gone now.”

John stared at him, unbelieving. In one movement, Brains had dispatched the fly, something that he had been trying to do for almost two hours. Hearing Alan call him from Thunderbird Three, John waved goodbye to Brains and set off back towards the space rocket, bemused. It was definitely time to go home.