Title: Gentle Rain
Warm Rain Series
19 – 23 Feb 2019
Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS
Summary: Sometimes it is so gentle, you don’t realise it is happening.
Word count: 3579
Spoilers & warnings: Virgil/Kayo, Scott/OC, Gordon/Penelope, spoilers for Warm Rain up to this point in the timeline.
Timeline: Six months after ‘The Proposal’, almost a sequel.
Author’s note: For @scribbles97 Well, this happened. I had nothing to do with any of it, these characters have minds of their own. I hope you enjoy it 😀
Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.
He woke exhausted, his brain foggy and not responding.
He was in an unfamiliar room.
He was fully dressed.
There was a woman in his arms.
Scott Tracy startled as his brain finally came fully online.
He blanked for a moment.
The woman was breathing softly beside him, her cloud of dark hair, a halo around her head. She was as fully dressed as he was, her skirt hiding her injuries as always. His right arm was under her, holding her close. His left arm, in its cast, rested mostly on himself, but his fingers were brushing her hip.
Her face was turned towards him.
She looked so fragile in her sleep. Her face lax, her skin pale porcelain unpinched by worry or concern.
As if hearing his thoughts, she frowned. A gentle crease in her brow changing the whole expression of her face.
He resisted the urge to reach out and smooth that wrinkle away.
She had almost left him.
Left him before he had even managed to declare any intention. Sure, he had kissed her, oh so long ago in the
roundhouse, on that cliff, far away on Tracy Island. But then Virgil collapsed and everything had fallen with him. Scott had slipped into old habit, stepping up for his brother, being there for Virgil and, he admitted to himself, leaving
Discovering his decisions had killed her family and crippled her for life had hurt more than he thought possible.
She murmured something in her sleep. He frowned.
He had intentions.
Gordon was right. He couldn’t let her go. She had done something to him. Whether she was smiling or calling him on his
shit, there was something in her voice, in her face, in her…that he needed. Something he had to have. The thought of losing her hurt.
He had reached for her as she reached out to touch his face, caught her with his good arm and drawn her in. She was small in his arms, almost tiny, yet so fiery, so strong, so able to kick his ass when he needed it. She didn’t struggle, but the shock on her face had been plain, her pale eyes wide and staring at him. “Scott?”
“Please don’t go. I need you.”
“You need a holiday. You need a break. You all do.” She was stroking his hair. “Please, Scott.”
His spine had straightened at that. “Are those your terms?”
“My terms? My god. How can you possibly think…” Her hoverscoot fired, her fingers flicking automatically across the
controls. He clung to her and they were both propelled back towards the bed, colliding with the mattress. Her flailing arm hit her suitcase and it slipped from the bed, clothes scattering across the floor. “Goddamnit, let me go!” She shoved at him and he released her.
She sat there, hoverscoot rammed up against the bed, hanging a little crooked in the air, her hand steadying herself on the
mattress, her beautiful eyes glaring fire at him. “Terms, Scott? What? You want to weigh yours and your brothers’ lives against whether I will stay here or not?”
“Our relationship is not dependent on International Rescue. I am not part of International Rescue. You are. You have
the power to stop the trainwreck that is coming. I can only warn you. I can see it. I can help heal the injuries along the way. But only you can stop it.” She turned away. “Our relationship…” She turned back to glare at him. “Do we have one? Do you want one?”
“Yes.” The word passed his lips without thought. She was so angry, so passionate.
“Then stop treating me like the enemy! I’m on your side.” And she ran out of steam, her chest heaving, face flushed. Her
shoulders dropped and she leant heavily against the bed. “God, you’re hard work.”
He had no answer to that.
She eyed him. “And I suppose you’ve been in that damn chair all day?” The switch from woman to doctor was subtle, but
“It has been necessary.”
“I doubt that.” She sighed as he frowned at her. “Come here.”
He did as he was told and found himself subject to a thorough examination. His arm, his leg, his ribcage and his abdominal scar. She even took his pulse and felt his forehead.
He tracked her with his eyes.
“Diagnosis: Terminal idiocy. Have you rested today at all?”
“Uh…” Had he?
“Go to bed, Scott.” She turned and began picking clothes off the floor.
“Goddamnit, don’t you listen to anyone?”
“Have you rested today? I know you were at the hospital this morning. What did you do this afternoon?”
Her expression betrayed her.
“Pot, kettle, Em.”
Her hands fisted. “Just….aaargh, god! Go to bed, Scott!”
“Not without you.”
She froze, staring at him. “What?”
“You want me to go to bed, you’re coming with me.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Well, that’s a response I’ve never received before.” She was still staring. It was his turn to
sigh. “I just want some company, Em. Please.”
His honesty softened her expression. A compromise landed them in her room, on her bed, his arms full of this beautiful
woman with such fire in her veins.
And they had talked. Of nothing of importance, nothing worth arguing over. No International Rescue. Just stories
about their childhood and goofball brothers. Somewhere between Perth and the Great Barrier Reef he fell asleep.
Early morning sunlight was peering under the blinds, sketching her out in sharper shadows.
She muttered his name in her sleep and shuddered under his hands.
She hadn’t left.
He still had a chance.
Kayo woke with Virgil’s pillow in her arms.
But it was only a pillow. He hadn’t slept on it. It had none of his scent. He wasn’t here.
Her eyes were crusty, her throat was still tight and her head throbbed. There had been sleep but it could be counted in minutes not hours. Her brain had not given her any rest, scenarios spinning around her head, desperate to find a solution that did not involve losing Virgil.
She closed her eyes and fought the tears. She had shed too many already.
It seemed her inner calm had left her. Only Virgil could do that. Only he could stir her inner demons with both terror and
joy. Only Virgil.
She buried her face in his pillow.
Someone knocked on her door.
She didn’t answer him.
He knocked again. “Tin, I know you’re in there. C’mon, Sis, you’re needed out here.” A pause. “Virgil’s quit International Rescue.”
Her eyes shot open. A moment of shock and she was out of bed and flinging open the door.
Gordon’s eyes widened as she landed in front of him. “Hey, Tin. Ah, good morning.” He was looking her up and down.
She peered down to find herself wearing only a crop top and cotton shorts. The emerald in her bellybutton flickered in
the light from the hallway. She had no doubt her hair resembled more of a haystack than its usual tight appearance. A glare of challenge in her brother’s direction strangled any comment he might have been considering. “What did
Gordon blinked. “He didn’t speak to you first?”
She intensified her glare.
Her brother’s shoulders drooped. “C’mon, Tin, I know you and Virgil had words last night. He told Scott he was quitting.
What the hell happened?”
“Not your business, Gordon.”
“I beg to differ, Tin. If Virgil quits, it affects all of us. He’s my brother, you’re my sister.”
“An argument used on us all the time.”
“Then you should be damn grateful so many people care about you. You look like shit, Tin. What the hell happened?”
“Where is Scott?”
“Indisposed. He has his own problems. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”
“Future defining problems. Same deal as you two. Now spill. How do we fix this?”
“Who says it should be fixed?”
That brought him to a screeching halt.
“Leaving International Rescue could be what is best for Virgil.” It tore her heart. She knew how much he loved his job, how much purpose it gave him and how much difference to the world it made. But flashes of her injured lover, bleeding, groaning in pain, desperately trying to breathe, the mass of scars on his body…they crushed the dream, fought the positives down and drowned them in the pain his job gave them. “At least he might live a little longer.”
Gordon gaped at her. “You can’t mean that.”
“Yes, I can. He nearly died, Gordon, again. How many times is that now? I don’t know, I’m losing count. How many times
before it is the last time? How long before I lose him, Gordon?”
“It’s a risk-“
Something climbed up her throat and strangled all thought. No! “He’s mine!” She snarled through her teeth. “Goddamnit, you can’t have him!”
She slammed the door in his face.
Em woke warm. She was being held, warm breath on her shoulder. Opening her eyes brought her face to face with a pair
of familiar smiling blue. “Good morning.”
“‘Morning.” Her voice was husky with disuse.
A finger was tracing figure eights on her shoulder.
Her eyes slid closed a moment before opening again. So warm. So safe.
She could lie here forever.
She was in bed with Scott Tracy.
Okay, not really. They were fully dressed and actually lying on top of the bed, but she was in his arms and he was
smiling at her. Daydreams were made of stuff like this.
She rolled herself over and snuggled into his side.
His arm wrapped around her tighter and he kissed her hair. “How are you feeling?”
A smile into his shirt. “Lucky. I’m feeling lucky.”
His huff of a laugh caught in her hair.
“Not as lucky as I am.”
She frowned and looked up at him, but all she could see was his smile as he leant down and kissed her. Warm, moist, and,
oh god, he set her body tingling. Her arms tightened around him and she pulled herself up higher, drawing him closer. A hand made it into his hair as his tongue found hers.
His left arm travelled up her side, fingers dancing across her ribcage, wrapping around her back, just behind the swell of
her breast. She moaned a little breathlessly into his mouth and their kiss grew in urgency.
They broke off to gasp in air and his kiss multiplied into a trail across her cheek, hot breath on the curve of her ear, a
gentle brush of lips over her jaw. “Em, you are so beautiful.” Her neck, she arched back giving him access to her throat and he obliged. Her body sung at his touch.
“Scott…” But she lost her trail of thought as he once again returned to her mouth, his tongue slipping between her teeth.
She had a fistful of his gorgeous hair and the ripple of muscle under her other palm as he moved. He was all around her,
hot, heavy and hers.
She broke off the kiss, trailing a trail of her own across his jaw, her tongue tracing out those gorgeous dimples that so
drew her to him. He exhaled her name into her ear.
Drawing back, she caught his eyes. Their blue was glazed over with excitement, his pupils wide and seeking her. She
reached up and cupped his jaw with her hand before once again taking his mouth with her own.
This time it was he who moaned, crushing her to him.
And his stomach rumbled loudly.
She couldn’t help it, she smiled into his kiss.
He broke off, his own smile lopsided and chagrined. “Sorry about that.” As if to prove the point, his stomach rumbled again.
His smile became a grin.
She grabbed him and kissed him soundly on the nose. “You’ve just got your priorities in order.”
“My priorities?” He grabbed her and kissed her thoroughly, drawing her in once again, sending her mind spinning. Oh wow.
And she was slipping again into that wonderfully passionate haze that contained only his touch and her body.
But he pulled back and for a moment she lay there dazed. He smiled down at her. “Hungry?”
A glare and she reached behind her, grabbed a pillow and hit him with it.
The house was strangely quiet when Em finally untangled herself from Scott and ventured out towards the kitchen to
find his stomach some food. It was somewhat ironic that it was easier for her to get out of bed than him. She had pinned him with a glare and told him to stay put.
“Pen, this could mean the end of International Rescue.”
Em startled. Gordon’s voice was sudden and came from beyond the kitchen doorway. “Sure, Alan and I can manage Two, but it won’t be the same.”
“It doesn’t have to be the same, Gordon.” Penelope’s precise and melodious tones flowed over their communication link. Em could just see their reflection in the glass of the open door, Penelope’s hologram projected from the table in the middle of the room. Gordon was half slumped in a chair, his whole posture blatant despair so unlike the bright and positive man she had observed since she had first encountered him.
“It’s not just that. Virgil is…well, Virgil. How the hell can we do this without him?” He pushed a hand through his
already messy hair. “Do we want to do this without Virgil?”
Penelope sighed. “Have you spoken with him at all?”
“No. Kayo has gone all possessive feral. Slammed her door in my face. God forbid she finds me anywhere near him.”
“Then I think we should not panic. Scott will, no doubt, speak with your brother. There will be discussion and a
Gordon let his head drop onto his folded arms on the table. “I so hope so.”
Blue eyes appraised him. “Have you eaten breakfast yet?”
There was a muffled answer Em couldn’t quite make out.
“Then eat. Everything is better once one has had sustenance.”
Another muttered comment.
“Em, could I ask you to persuade Gordon into eating some breakfast?”
She startled, caught eavesdropping again. Did these people keep hidden mirrors or cameras or monitors around corners as a status quo? She edged herself into the kitchen to be hit by a pair of puzzled russet brown eyes. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to overhear.”
The aquanaut sighed and waved a dismissive hand in her direction. “Doesn’t matter. Whatever.”
Penelope’s cool gaze calmly looked her up and down. “How is Scott?”
Em narrowed her eyes just slightly. “He is well.”
“Good.” She turned back to Gordon. “I must bid you farewell, I have a charity dinner to attend. Eat something healthy and
we will speak later.” She nodded at Em and the hologram flickered out.
There was silence for a moment. Em hovered over to the sink and poured herself a glass of water. It was cool sliding down her throat.
“So I heard.”
“Did you say anything to him?”
She turned around, frowning, but found only a need for understanding in the man’s eyes. “No. Virgil and I haven’t spoken
since yesterday morning. We discussed rehabilitation and timeframes. He seemed eager to get himself back to a good fitness level.” It had frustrated her to no end. Sure, a good fitness level was always a good thing, but in this case a
good fitness level meant he could go out and risk getting himself killed again.
She didn’t want to see him hurt.
The expression on Kayo’s face had only agreed with her.
“We need Scott.”
She straightened at that. “Scott needs breakfast.” It was surprising the man wasn’t already down here. Perhaps she had
kept him reined in simply by being there. She grabbed a bowl and some cereal.
As if he had heard her, Scott hovered into the kitchen. She glared. “You were supposed to stay in bed.”
A shrug. “I couldn’t bear to be away from you any longer.” And as if to demonstrate he pulled up beside her and curled
his arm around her waist. “Morning, Gordon.”
“Scott, you have to speak to Virgil.”
She felt his shoulders drop beside her. “I know. Food and coffee first.” His grip on her tightened just slightly.
That food and coffee was consumed in an oppressive silence, broken only once by footsteps in the hallway and a slammed
There had been no sleep.
The ceiling tiles had morphed into a maze of torture, his eyes sketching and re-sketching out shapes made by the holes
and the squares, annoying him to no end.
He wanted Kay. He wanted to hold her, to make sure she was alright, to reassure her that he was quitting IR, that he had
But he was also scared. International Rescue had been everything for so long. Sure there was plenty of other stuff he
could do, but could he watch his brothers go out, leaving him behind?
It hadn’t been easy saying those words to Scott, but it was going to be even harder to enact them.
And there was pain, no matter what medication they put him on. He could feel the fog clogging his mind, yet breathing still hurt. Perhaps he should ask for something stronger, something that could finally knock him out and end the pain on all fronts.
By the time the sun peeked over the horizon and lit up the edges of the window, he was ready to take anything to make it
all go away.
He was reaching for the call button when there was a knock on his door.
“Yes?” His voice was faint and hoarse and for a moment, he thought he hadn’t been heard.
The door opened and Kay stepped into the room.
“Oh god, Kay.” And he was reaching for her.
The door closed behind her and she was in his arms. She was real, she was solid, she was kissing him, he was kissing her.
He couldn’t catch his breath properly and goddamn it hurt, but he didn’t care.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He muttered the words between frantic kisses. A small voice at the back of his foggy mind
yelled at him that it was the drugs and he was being stupid, but all he could see was Kay.
“Virgil.” Her hands landed on his shoulders. “Virgil, it’s okay, love. It’s okay.” She pushed him back against the pillows. She brushed his hair off his forehead, her eyes studying his face, frowning. “It’s okay.”
He caught her hand in his and held it to his cheek. “Please don’t leave.” It came out as a breathless plea.
“I’m not going anywhere.” She visibly swallowed. “Have you slept at all?”
“I already have.” And she held up her left hand. The diamonds and emeralds sparkled in the fluorescent light. “Have you
had any sleep?”
He stared at the ring and it blurred for a moment.
“Virgil?” She shifted, sitting on the edge of the bed, her hand drifting into his hair, stroking gently.
God, it felt good. His eyes slid shut. “K…”
“I’ll take that as a no.”
So good. “Don’t go. Please don’t go.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” A feather soft touch of lips to his forehead.
“Go to sleep, Virgil.”
Her fingers in his hair, her warmth beside him, so tired…
Her touch tipped his exhaustion into sleep.
With her name still on his lips.
She had meant to challenge him. There was anger at him. Anger at Scott. Anger at the world in general. She wanted to
argue with him.
But the moment she stepped inside his room, it all faded away at the sight of him. So pale, so sickly. Her strong confident
man looked so small and frail against the hospital white and his drug hazed pleas tore her heart.
She rested her hip on the bed, her hand still in his hair as his breathing evened out, still shallow due to his injuries, but reassuringly regular. The bags under his eyes sketched out his exhaustion. Biting her lip, she lay her head beside his, and edged up closer, bringing his crown to rest below her chin.
Oh, Virgil. Her beautiful Virgil.
So strong, so capable, yet so gentle, so sensitive. Her breath hitched, reminding her of how much sleep she herself
hadn’t had. She closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of his hair, his familiar fragrance tainted by the hospital.
He had quit International Rescue. No doubt for her.
He was still her idiot. Still making stupid sacrifices for her. Why couldn’t he simply look after himself? Why was it
always for others? For her, for his brothers, for the entire population of the damn planet. He wasn’t careless. He did look after himself. But when the call came, he would go beyond the reasonable, beyond the limits to save another, risking
everything in the process. And god forbid if it was her life or her brothers’ lives in the balance
She kissed his hair softly.
Love you so much.
So terrified of losing you.
My beautiful Virgil.
Curled up beside him, caught in that thought, she drifted off into much needed sleep.
End Part Fifteen.