The ramblings of a Nut who should be doing something else – Adelaide, South Australia

Green Dragon

Title: Green Dragon

Warm Rain Series

Author: Numnut

22-23 Oct 2018

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: He wore green dragons.

Word count: 2880

Spoilers & warnings: Virgil/Kayo

Timeline: After ‘For a Smile’ and before ‘Goodbye’.

Author’s note: For @vegetacide and @the-lady-razorsharp as
they really, really asked for it 😀 I plead coercion 😀

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t
have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

His beard itched.

Here he was roaring down the highway with a throbbing Harley
Davidson between his thighs, a gorgeous woman on the back with her arms wrapped
around his waist, and all he could think about was the itch in his beard.

Which he couldn’t reach because of his helmet.

There was also a dead bug smear on his visor right in his
eyeline.

They had been cruising for a good part of the day having
left the river side that morning and heading towards the mountains. The
odometer had added a good five hundred kilometres since then with the
occasional stop along the way.

It was definitely time for lunch.

Kay’s hands were wrapped around his belly and he gave them a
quick squeeze as a one-horse town came into sight, its lone pub obvious before
they even made the town limits. She squeezed him back.

He let off the throttle and the speedometer dropped, his
girl’s engines dropping an octave and rumbling as he decelerated, eventually
coming to a stop directly in front of the Victorian stonework, dotted with beer
advertisements.

Gliding into an angular park, he secured her and turned the
engine off.

Silence.

A raven cawed in the distance.

It was one of those towns that just seemed to exist for the
pub, which also housed the post office. It appeared people-less except for a
single abandoned Holden ute parked in front of the equally silent petrol station
built on the other side of the building.

If he wasn’t in the backend of New South Wales, he could
have been in the west of the United States. A wild frontier, with extra beer.

He let Kay climb off the bike before he moved. With their
packs loaded on the back, it was a slim fit. Her hands slid off his jacket, her
fingers lingering at the nape of his neck as her feet hit dirt.

Yanking off his helmet, he revelled in the opportunity to
breathe beyond the protection it gave. He had tied a bandana around his head
under the helmet to keep his hair under control and to mop up the sweat. The
breeze was cool as it caught the damp material.

The bandana was green and printed with white Chinese
dragons. Kay had bought it for him to match the leather chaps he wore on his
legs. Two days into their cross-country road trip, he had learnt the hard way
that all day on a bike in just jeans was a good way to not enjoy the nights
that followed. They had stopped at a shop in a similar one-horse town on the
other side of the continent and had discovered the second-hand pair of chaps.
Soft dark leather that fastened at his waist with a metal buckle engraved with
a dragon. The pant legs were fastened to his boots with leather ties and
sported a green dragon engraved into the outside of each leg.

Kay had loved them on sight. Virgil had thought they were a
little over the top, but the colour was appropriate.

He’d been wearing them for three and a half thousand
kilometres and they were now old friends.

So, between the bandana and the chaps and the beard he had
let grow out over the past weeks, the Virgil Tracy who climbed off the Harley
deep in country New South Wales, was as far removed from the uniformed
International Rescue operative as you could get. Tanned, beard as black as the
hair on his head, equally black leather jacket, red tee, jeans, chaps and
boots, he pulled off the fingerless riding gloves, stashed them in their pack,
and wrapping a loose arm around Kay, walked into the pub.

Of course, Kayo was equally un-IR. Her hair was loose and
dropped to her waist, a little tangled by the wind. She, too, wore a leather
jacket over her an emerald tee that didn’t quite make it to her low hung jeans,
leaving her belly button to sparkle in the dim light as they walked in the
door.

The sound of her boot heels echoed in the suddenly quiet
bar. Every eye in the room hit them at the same time. Fortunately, there were
only a handful of patrons plus the bartender and a woman who was likely his
wife.

Virgil ignored them all and approached the bar. He eyed the
menu scribbled on a chalkboard and gave the man a smile. “Hi. Is lunch still
available?”

The bartender, somewhere in his sixties, gave him a crinkled
smile. “Sure. What will you have?”

“The steak sounds great. Kay?”

She smiled. “Sounds good.”

Pulling out his wallet, he gave the man cash for the two
meals, plus two mineral waters. They took a seat in the corner of the room away
from the few other people scattered about.

The holiday had been long planned. Finding time and
scheduling an absence from work had its difficulties that didn’t apply to the
average nine to five position. They were, of course, on call if Scott was
desperate, but his big brother had virtually kicked him off the island and Kayo
along with him. Gordon had his bird, Alan had his back, and it was business as
usual. So far, they had the luck that nothing totally disastrous had called
them back and starting in Perth, they had cruised across the majority of this
dry and dusty continent.

It was freeing to escape routine. It was absolute paradise
to spend time alone with his girlfriend. Four brothers, a grandmother and
Brains on a tiny island didn’t leave much alone time to write a romance.

It had been the two of them, the bike and a tent for nearly
a month. Roughing it, sleeping under the stars and a mosquito net.

John, of course, had checked in on them from time to time.
There was no such thing as a cell phone dead spot when you worked for International
Rescue. Both Virgil and Kayo wore their comms and wrist devices complete with
holoprojectors, so some star lit nights had included discussions with brothers,
their grandmother and Brains.

Other nights most definitely had not.

Smiling Virgil reached across the table and took Kay’s hand
in his and gently caressed her fingers. This had been a wonderful time. The
sites, the atmosphere, the words exchanged, quiet moments in the middle of
nowhere, the only sounds the birds and the wind in the trees.

Love you. He
mouthed the words across the space between them and she smiled, squeezing his
hand in return.

It was at that moment that a deep rumble broke the general
calm. The sound grew nearer and equally louder. Many thundering motorcycles.
Virgil arched an eyebrow at Kayo as they pulled up outside.

So much for quiet.

Sure enough, moments later about a dozen rather large and
brash men marched in through the front door of the bar and proceed to harass
the barman and his wife with a rambling order for everything from alcohol to
food to the key to the toilet.

Sitting in their corner, Virgil and Kayo kept to themselves.

Unfortunately, the group had no respect for boundaries and
one of the younger men spotted Virgil, eyed his chaps and pretty much
everything else about the IR operative and swaggered over.

“So, that your ride out there?”

Virgil looked up. “Yes.”

“Not a bad set of wheels.”

“She’s good.”

“Shame she’s green.” The man was chewing something, possible
tobacco, the smell coming off him was indefinite other than stale and unwashed.

“I like her fine.”

“What’s with the dragons?”

“Why?”

“You trying to say somethin’?”

Virgil arched an eyebrow at him. “Not particularly.”

“You with the local?”

“Local what?” Though he had his suspicions.

The man snorted and let off half a laugh. “Lone, huh? Out
here? That’s asking for it.”

Virgil sighed and stood up. The young biker obviously needed
a few extra inches to look him in the eye. “Asking for what?” As always,
Virgil’s tone was calm and polite, but his unconscious use of his height said
so much more.

The smelly man yelled out to his compatriots. “Hey, Jay. We
got ourselves a loner.”

That drew immediate attention, the other bikers moving in
their direction. In the corner of his eye, Virgil saw Kayo rise slowly to her
feet, her stance very much the IR security officer, leather or no.

Her movement caught Smelly’s eye. “Oh, and he has a filly!”

“A filly?” The man who appeared at Smelly’s elbow had no
problem looking down at Virgil. He was a huge mass of a man, though much of
that mass was much further south than Virgil’s. “Oooh, yes, indeedy, he does.
And a nice one too.”

Kayo tensed. Virgil sighed. The collective IQ of these two
was proving to be lower than their weight in kilograms. Even the spider hanging
from the rafters above them was making a dash for it. Kayo’s expression
certainly gave enough warning.

“Hey, guys, we’re just here for a quiet lunch.”

And Smelly was in his face. Ugh, he stunk. “And now we’re
here for some fun. Do you have a problem with that?”

Virgil wrinkled his nose. “Do you ever bathe?”

There was a guffaw from Jay and general snickering from the
biker audience.

Virgil saw it coming. So predictable. The biker swung and
Virgil ducked, catching the man’s arm and wrenching it behind his back, pinning
him against the wall. “As I was saying, all we want is a quiet lunch. Please go
away.”

Something cold and sharp punctured the skin beneath his ear.
“Let him g-“

There was a rush of displaced air, the knife point slipped
from his skin, followed by an almighty crash. He turned to find the love of his
life standing on Jay, the heel of her boot grinding into his back.

He couldn’t help but smile.

She looked back at him, her expression suddenly alarmed.
“V-“

And something hard hit him in the head.

There was a moment of complete disorientation. Noise,
yelling, the sound of breaking furniture. Smelly attempted to break loose, and
it centred Virgil, his grip tightening as he scrunched his eyes shut and wiped
something warm and wet off his forehead. His hand came back red. Oh, man, he
was supposed to be on vacation.

Smelly kicked him in the ankle.

Virgil shoved him hard against the wall and he squealed.

One of his biker mates rushed in.

And was suddenly airborne. He landed rather unceremoniously
against the wall with a sick thud.

Kayo took his place between Virgil and the other men.
“Anyone else?” Her voice was cold steel. There was no answer. “Get out.” Feet
shuffled. “Now!”

And the pub was evacuated as if a fire alarm had gone off.
The rumble as several motorcycles started up outside. The blessed fade of them
disappearing into the distance.

The barman stood staring, his wife beside him. Jay was on
the floor, still unconscious. The other biker was in a similar condition
slumped against the wall where he had landed. Smelly was still wriggling.

“Virgil? Are you okay?” Kay was reaching for him.

“Virgil? Your name is Virgil?” Smelly, of the non-existent
IQ, cracked up laughing. Virgil twisted his arm up upwards until he could hear
the bones creaking.

His laughter cut off and was replaced with a whimper.

Kay had a hand on his cheek. “Put the biker down, honey. You
are going to break him.”

“Is that a bad thing?” His voice was gravelly. Smelly
squawked as Virgil shifted closer to his girl.

Kay smiled at him. “Perhaps not, but you are bleeding, love.
I need to see to that.” She caressed his cheek. “I can take care of him.”

“Okay. Though I warn you, he stinks.” A flip of his arm and
Smelly was spun around to face his fate. Virgil kept his grip on him until Kayo
forced him to let go. Moments later, the man was tied to a chair with some
twine hastily handed over by the pub owner.

Virgil attempted to smile apologetically at the man. “Sorry
for the damage. We can pay.”

The bartender held up his hand. “Not your fault and it is
only a couple of chairs. You should sit down.” His brow furrowed in concern.

“Yes, you should.” And Kay was there. God, she was
beautiful. “Yes, yes, and you are too, when you’re not bleeding all over me.”
He was sitting down.

He straightened as a first aid kit appeared at her elbow.
There was gauze, antiseptic, pain and a lot of fussing. His head hurt. She held
up two fingers, then four, then two. He answered her questions, but her grunt
at his answers proved something wasn’t right.

Sirens pulled up outside. Several police officers entered
the building and the three bikers were medically checked before being bundled
up and taken away. Virgil had zero care to where.

Moments later, what little quiet that was left was stolen by
the sound of rocket engines coming into land.

Virgil groaned. Damn.

Kay smiled a little at him. “We’ve done it now.”

“I’m on vacation.”

“With a possible skull fracture.” Her smile wasn’t strong
enough to hide her concern.

“I’m sorry.” He reached for her, wanting her close. “Wanted
it to be perfect.”

She leaned in. “It was, love.” She dropped her head to his
shoulder. “Until thirty minutes ago.”

“Virgil!”

And there he was. Head to toe in blue IR uniform, worry on
his face, big brother eyes widening as he caught sight of Virgil and Kayo.

“What the hell?” He hurried over and knelt in front of them.
“What happened? John said you were injured.” Oh, yeah, those damned body
sensors his younger brother had demanded they all wear at all times.

“Bar fight.”

Scott’s eyes turned to Kayo for an explanation.

“Biker gang looking for a brawl. Virgil appeared an easy
target.”

And his brother looked him up and down. “Interesting look
there, bro.”

“Kay likes it.” Virgil grinned, and it stretched some muscle
on his scalp so it was followed by a wince.

“Okay, let’s get you home.” Scott reached for him.

“No, on vacation.”

“Sorry, bro, your vacation has just converted to sick
leave.” He sighed. “And you might want to look at state of your bike.”

“What?!” And he was on his feet wobbling towards the door.
Four arms grabbed for him.

“Scott, what the hell were you thinking?”

“To get him moving?”

“He’s been hit on the head with a beer bottle. The only
reason he’s not on the floor is because of that thick skull of his. And you
want to agitate him?”

“Where’s my bike?” He pulled towards the exit.

The sunlight hurt his eyes.

And his bike was in the gutter, her beautiful paintwork
scratched and dented. Their belongings scattered across the road. Oh god.

“Damnit, Scott.” Kay was angry.

“C’mon, bro. We can fix her. Let’s go home.” And beyond his
battered bike, parked in the middle of the highway was Thunderbird One.

Everyone in the town was gawking.

Kayo was under his arm. “We can fix her, honey.” And she
reached up and kissed him. It was an effective distraction. “C’mon, love.” She
drew him towards TB1. “Scott will look after her. Won’t you, Scott.” Virgil
frowned, that was Kayo’s scary voice.

“Sure will.” And Scott was picking up his sketchbook off the
sidewalk and frowning.

“And hurry up.”

The ladder up to TB1’s interior lowered and his concentration
narrowed to making each of those steps.

Eventually he was in a seat and there were VTOLs firing. Kay
was holding him, and they were flying.

-o-o-o-

He stared at his poor, injured bike. His head injury was
little more than a headache. His vacation little more than a memory.

Hands crept around his waist, followed by beautiful olive
arms. Her breasts against his lower back, her cheek against his spine. “So
sorry, love.”

He shrugged. “Could’ve been worse.”

Her arms tightened around him. “Take the ending out of the
picture and it was a perfect holiday. I had a wonderful time. Let’s not focus
on those few idiots and let them ruin the memories.”

He turned in her arms, wrapping his own around her. “True. I
particularly like remembering the night beside the billabong.”

A smile. “So you enjoyed being eaten alive by mosquitoes?”

He dropped his nose down to touch hers, nuzzling her gently
before kissing her. “Oh, I thought the netting protected us enough.” He ran his
tongue against her lips, begging entry, and deepening the kiss as she let him
in. Her fingers dented the skin of his back through his t-shirt.

After a few moments he drew back. “One thing I missed out
on, though.”

She reached up and brushed her fingers through his short
beard. “Oh, and what is that?”

He smiled, kissing her again, letting his hands drop to her
waist, sliding under her top, touching skin, his thumb brushing over the
emerald piercing in her belly button. “I haven’t yet truly explored your new
accessory.”

She smiled against his lips. “We still have plenty of time.”

He grinned. “Gotta fix the bike.”

“Oh, the bike can wait.”

-o-o-o-

FIN.

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