LUST AND LOATHING ON TRACY ISLAND
Brains wants Scott. Virgil
wants Scott out. Scott wants coconuts.
WARNING: Swearing, implied
incest, amoral puppet! slash, severe OOC-ness! Thunderbirds
like it should never have been seen. You have been warned!
back lazily in his sunbed and watched the eldest son of his
employer swim lengths in the impossibly blue pool. His own
uncharacteristic appearance outside had nothing to do with the
heat, and hence the undressed state of... certain people, he
told himself; it was important to be aware of the
meteorological conditions outside. Brains was there for...
observational purposes. The water glistened slickly off
Scott's back, his muscles rippling as he pulled himself out of
the water right in front of the reclining scientist.
Brains! Say, pass me that towel, would you?"
rewarded with a flash of white teeth as he tossed it to Scott
(taking care to throw it slightly short and to the side, so as
to retain his reputation - you never knew when being
considered a weakling could come in handy), and the far more
satisfying view of the pilot casually scraping the Egyptian
cotton over his firm body, mopping the tantalising droplets
from his broad swimmer's shoulders and back. He'd never been
able to resist jocks.
Scott, you s-sure do g-g-go fast in that pool!" you hunk of a
studmuffin, you, Brains added silently.
in Scott's cheek deepened as he grinned, and proceeded to
present a rather lovely view of his arse as he bent down to
pick up his drink, kept cool with a pack of insulated dry-ice
- Brains' invention, of course. It could not be left on
tables, because of the mark it left, and hence the bending; it
was one of those design flaws that could not be rectified,
sadly, like the transparent crotch on the aqua-suit, and the
extraordinary tight leggings used for anti-grav training
purposes. The amount of creative effort that went into
designing the outfits actually often took longer than the
conception and planning of the actual implements they were
used with, although it was far more enjoyable, and the results
were usually much more aesthetically pleasing. Not for the
first time, Brains reflected that he was certainly in the
right job. He was composing an inquiry about the comfort of
the seats in Thunderbird 1 which might possibly lead to a
testing session, when there was a rustle behind him, and Scott
grinned at the figure who appeared from the house behind him.
Virgil," Scott said brightly, "how about a game of
strolled out of the shade of the palm tree and laid his towel
on the sunbed.
you know I hate volleyball." Brains sighed involuntarily as
that pretty face creased in disappointment, like a cloud going
over the sun. Virgil pulled off his T-shirt and lay down,
closing his eyes luxuriously; he might just as well have hung
a 'closed' sign on his head. Scott looked mournfully at
Brains, very much resembling a puppy shut up in a kitchen on a
wants to play volleyball with me any more," he said sadly.
Brains wrinkled his brow, hoping to convey sympathy and
understanding. The palm tree rustled in a light breeze as
Scott picked absently at the bark.
Brains, why don't we ever get any coconuts off this thing?"
fucking date palm, Scott."
flushed, and frowned in his brother's direction.
you know dad doesn't like us using bad language..."
snorted loudly, and Brains thought it best to step in before
things got nasty.
Scott, if it's important t-to y-you I could m-modify their
genetic structure, I'm sure your f-father would mind..." and
the sun was out again, Brains thought happily.
could you?" said Scott, "That would be swell! Say, do you want
to play some volleyball?"
think I hear dad calling you," Virgil drawled, not opening his
almost see his tail wag as he scurried towards the house. He
stopped at the screen door. "Are you sure, Virge? I don't
you've got..." Virgil's voice died away into a mumble.
maybe you've got water in your ears!" projected Virgil. Scott
frowned, and rubbed his chin with concern.
Virge, maybe you're right. I should go and get some of Nana's
off, and his younger brother smirked up at the midday sun.
Brains watched the crystal pool lap gently at the marble
steps, unable to stop himself from feeling rather forlorn at
the loss of his favourite distraction. The sun beat down, the
sweat making his glasses slip down his nose, and he could feel
the beginnings of a headache coming on. There was a shuffle as
Virgil turned over.
Brains, sometimes I can't believe I'm related to him."
shrugged, and Virgil rolled his eyes.
you're as bad as dad."
out his jaw, and said, gruffly, "Virgil, stop teasing your
brother. Virgil, give Scott back his keys. Virgil, Scott gets
the rocket... coconuts. He's such a moron."
shrugged, and stood up. He didn't quite feel up to rebuking
Virgil, and those washboard abs were a little distracting.
Besides, his head was beginning to hurt, and he craved the
cool shade of his basement. As he picked his way around the
pool, he had the uncomfortable feeling that he was being
looked over in a rather unsavoury way, particularly when
Virgil's charming voice rang across the water, laden with
out of the sun, Brains. You know what your migraines are
winced, and dug his bitten fingernails into his palms. Virgil
never lost an opportunity to remind him of that unfortunate
slip in his usually rock-solid composure. All he really
remembered of it now was Alan, the hyperactive little twit,
dancing around him and asking about his precious car, and a
screwdriver suddenly appearing in Brains' hand. It had been
months before Tintin had stopped hiding the kitchen knives
whenever he was around.
Brains", Virgil called, his voice now unmistakably spiteful,
"pity you weren't around when we were in high school, you
could have genetically modified him to date the cheerleaders,
not the science club".
of genius hitting screen door drifted across the water, and
Virgil grinned lazily, stretching himself out like a cat.
Brains deserved a shake-up, drooling at Scott like some
hormonal adolescent. Just drooling was no good to Virgil.
Their father wouldn't take his word as proof, and never had;
Virgil needed hard evidence, as it were. Luckily, Brains
himself had set up a visual-audio monitoring system months
ago; it had been easy to tap into it for his own personal use.
Easy for Virgil, anyway. Perhaps this last little nudge would
get some results, but if not, he could wait. He'd been waiting
his whole life. Meanwhile, he'd have a nap.
horizon was the colour of saffron over the sea when Virgil's
watch beeped, waking him up. He squinted at his watch in the
light from the fading sun, and savoured the rush of a job well
done. He pulled his shirt back on, and sauntered down towards
Brains' laboratory. It looked like he had plenty of time.
Virge, I don't think dad has to hear about this..." Scott
said. From behind his test-tube rack, Brains had to admire
Scott's ability to sound smooth, even wearing only a
strategically-placed swab. His heart sank, however, when he
saw Virgil show his teeth.
Scott, that would be dishonest", he said, turning the corners
of his mouth down in mock disappointment. "I think daddy
should know that his boy's been dropping the soap a bit too
swore!", squawked Scott, "you swore on Nana's apple pie!"
said Virgil coolly. "Oh no, wait, you've already done that."
Brains heard a choked noise, and realised that he himself had
made it. Virgil's grimace widened into a sinister grin.
going down, Scott", he hissed. "There's no Thunderbird Two to
save you now. Dad's not going to like this. Maybe he'll send
you back to military school, and I'll finally get to show him
what I can do!".
himself up to his full height, which was considerable, and
looked sternly at his younger brother. "Now, Virge, you know
dad loves us all equally. Your job is very important."
bronzed skin was mottled red, his eyes had an insane gleam to
them, and his hair stuck up in all directions.
gasped, "am an artist! Not that I get any appreciation around
here, no more than a glorified box-carrier, just because I
took time to develop more important things than 'people
skills'. You wouldn't know a plexi-chip if you swallowed one,
would you, Scott? Oh no, wait, you've done that too. Ever
wondered where your molecular-structure plan for the
experimental cure for cancer went, Brains? He's an idiot, but
he gets all the credit, because he looks like a hack B-movie
star. Well, not any more!"
swivelled on his heels with the grace of a dancer, and
strolled out of the laboratory. Scott shamefacedly gathered up
his things, avoiding Brains' stunned gaze.
to go see dad, Brains. I guess Virge's a little mad...".
scurried out after his brother. After a few minutes, Brains
decided he should probably put some clothes on. He was
stuffing his papers into a suitcase when there was a low rap
on the door.
in," stuttered Brains apprehensively. Jeff Tracy quietly let
himself into the room.
anything," he said, holding up a hand to stall Brains' nervous
just spoken to me, and – say, Brains, what are you doing?"
Brains looked at him blankly.
p-packing, Mr T-T-Tracy... I-I figured you'd w-want me to
Brains? Are you kidding? International Rescue is nothing
without you! If a little ass is all it takes to keep you happy
then that's just fine with me, even if it happens to be my
found time to wish he'd invented some sort of gadget to allow
him to sink into the floor at will, but was relieved,
nonetheless. Filling out job applications was such a drag when
you had as many qualifications as he did. Jeff flashed him his
trademark statesmans' smile.
really think I'd fire you for nothing worse than anything we
got up to in the marines? Brains, you've known me longer than
that. Now, how about giving an old man a hug?"
Brains could react, he was enfolded in an aftershave-sozzled
manly embrace. A little too manly. His eyes widened as Jeff
firmly squeezed his arse with one hand, and whispered into his
ear, "Now, Scott tells me you can do some pretty interesting
things with a test-tube..."
Brains thought distantly, he had always found his boss rather
attractive. Scott had to get it from somewhere, after all. If
this was what it took to keep him his job, then that was that.
He supposed that later Scott would be wanting some comforting
after such a traumatic experience, and maybe Virgil wouldn't
be averse to taking out his frustrations on someone. Life was