Adventures in Spectrum: Nail Polish!
Part of the Movements AU
Written by MariaShadow & SinEater
Gordon is dangerous.
He has ideas and he knows people.
Ao3 link here
...
“Oh dear, oh dear, oh that doesn’t look good.” Professor Winston Harvey-Lottway wrung his hands and fretted, hovering over Scarlet and Xanthic as the junior officer helped the senior officer limp away from the hungry waves lashing the shoreline. A stiff wind was whipping the water into turbulent peaks and making all four of them shiver.
“We’ll be fine, go with Captain Blue.” Xanthic instructed, touched by the older gent’s concern. Their charge, a professor of physics at the University of Wisconsin, had made a major breakthrough in efficient cold fusion and because of it he was the subject of the Mysterons’ latest threat. They’d found him in his summer house at Anvil Lake and managed to evacuate him just in time before his assistant-turned-replicant opened fire with a machine gun. With the only road to the cabin blocked by felled trees, they’d piled into the small boat the professor kept tied up at a rickety dock and fled across the water, only for it to turn turtle a handful of metres away from shore. Scarlet had caught his right foot in some rocks while helping the professor out of the water, was knocked down by a particularly vicious wave and wrenched his ankle quite badly.
“Come this way, Professor.” Blue took charge of Winston, guiding him up the shingle beach towards the half-tumbled shack that they’d spotted from the water. It wasn’t much, but it’d give them shelter until backup arrived.
“Oh yes, yes, thank you young man.” A grateful Winston let himself be shepherded away.
Despite the pain he was in, Scarlet couldn’t help the smile. They’d all very quickly taken a liking to the professor. He was the classic absent minded academic in a brown grandpa cardigan with patches on the elbows and a pocketful of hard candies, a lifelong bachelor who would have been lost without his faithful housekeeper. When they’d visited him, the collection of teddies from past students had been a surprise until he explained his nickname- Winnie- and that had just endeared him to them even more.
“Let’s see if we can get you taken care of before someone tells Fawn.” Xanthic threw Scarlet’s arm over his shoulders and helped him limp over to the cover of a deadfall near the shack. “Dude, you really have to stop overachieving like this or you’re going to give Cobalt a complex.”
Scarlet snorted instead of laughing, but he really wanted to. “I swear, I’m not doing it on purpose.”
“Yeah right, you two are in a contest to see who stays Fawn’s favourite idiot.” Xan got him seated behind the deadfall and started to ease the boot off. Thank goodness for outside zips.
Xanthic hissed a little when he finally saw the mess that the boot had been keeping together. Anyone else would have been screaming because of the fact that his ankle was broken. He produced a knife and slit through the black sock. “We’re going to need to set this before it heals wrong," he told Scarlet as he handed him a stick of driftwood as thick as his wrist.
Scarlet nodded. It had happened before and rebreaking a bone was never fun. “Right.” He locked his hands around the water smoothed wood to give himself something to squeeze. “Do it.”
Xanthic moved fast and with three sharp movements the bones were as realigned as he could get without an x-ray. It was almost fast enough not to hurt, almost. Scarlet sucked in air as Xanthic started pulling things out of his inner tunic pockets.
“Well… that was fun.” Scarlet tried for a little deadpan dry humour, but it came out more strained than he would have liked. He didn’t let go of the branch he was holding just yet- splinting and strapping could hurt just as much as setting a bone. “One of these days I’m going to figure out how you keep so much stuff in there,” he said as he inventoried the things Xanthic was laying out.
“Trade secret.” Xanthic tossed back to him, automatically settling into the rhythm of banter to distract him. He pulled the sticky backing off two slim plastic sticks maybe two fingers wide, setting them either side of Scarlet’s leg, just behind the projecting bones of the ankle, to act as a splint. “You’re going to lose some leg hair, sorry,” he said as he added rings of tape down the shin to hold them in place.
“You’re not sorry, you’re just saying that to make me feel better.” Scarlet bantered back, wincing as Xanthic accidentally shifted and a broken bone grated with the movement. He was glad to note that his foot was starting to itch with that particular tingle unique to retrometabolisim and he was hopeful he’d be fully mobile shortly. Being one leg down with at least one Mysteron hunting them was not ideal.
“Yep.” The last strip of tape secured, a bandage was produced next. Xanthic knelt so that he could place Scarlet’s heel on his thigh to free up his hands for the bandaging, and that was when he noticed the chips of colour on Paul’s toes. Gordon peered at the exposed digits, then looked at Paul with a positively impish grin. "I always figured you for a matte and not a glossy with glitter."
"Rhapsody picked it. It was the only one that matched my tunic." Paul was not successful in controlling his blush as he attempted to defend himself.
"Huh. I've got some contacts with DragonColor. I bet we could get you a nice matte to match your tunic. They did a great job for me." Gordon kept up the conversation as he started to bandage.
"It'd be a slight improvement." Paul almost asked 'why do you have nail polish to match your tunic?' but the question answered itself- of course Gordon would have nail polish to match his tunic, this was Gordon of the safety yellow swimming trunks and towel. It would have been more of a surprise if he didn’t have matching nail polish too.
Gordon nodded as he finished wrapping Paul's foot. "I know they have a gold shimmer and an opalescent white that she'd love. We can place an order later." He looked at the nails again. "You didn't let her bottom or top coat you. You need that to make it last longer."
"Good idea. " Paul did his best to hold still. "She tried to, but," he tensed and inhaled sharply as Gordon's hand brushed over the sole of his foot, "I'm too ticklish."
Gordon nodded, understanding completely. "We used to sneak the allociane cream out of the med supplies when we were competing and one of the guys needed a touch up." He carefully increased the pressure on Paul's foot to help quell the tickle response, very aware of the broken bones. "Can't react if you can't feel it."
It worked and Paul relaxed somewhat. "Did nail polish help with the swimming?" he asked curiously.
"It helped with team cohesion." Gordon shrugged. "So in that way, I guess it did. It was a great intimidation tactic. Hard to fuck with a guy's head when he's showing rainbow glitter toes to the world."
"That's a good point." Paul nodded and watched as the bandage was secured. "Is my sock still salvageable?" Wearing the boot over the bandage was doable, but it really wouldn’t be comfortable without a sock to save him from the inevitable blisters.
Gordon eyed the mangled bit of hosiery, discarded on the ground. "Not really, but I've got more surgical tape. We can rig a cover." He grinned as he started tearing off strips to wrap over the ball and heel of Scarlet’s foot, as well as around each toe to reduce chafing. "Think we can keep Blue in the dark long enough to get a glitter powder blue to Symphony?"
"Thank you." Paul grinned back. "Of course, but we can't just get some for Blue- the other chaps might feel left out."
"Oooh, I like how you think, Captain Scarlet!" Gordon chuckled as he finished with the tape. While he had no doubt that Paul was thinking about privately letting Dianne at his toenails again, well, he had other ideas. 'Shared bonding experience' was the phrase that sprung to mind.
"Thank you, Captain Xanthic. It's a pleasure scheming with you," Scarlet replied, quite unaware of Gordon’s private conclusions. A little careful work got his boot back on and zipped up.
“Do you think you can stand?” Xanthic asked, tucking away the remains of his supplies.
“I think so, but I’ll be limping for a while by the feel of it. We can tell the professor it’s just a bad sprain.” Scarlet said. With Xanthic’s help, he got up to standing and carefully tested how much weight he could put on it, now that it was wrapped and supported. “That’s much better, thank you.”
“All in a day’s work of Spectrum Roadside Assistance.” Xanthic’s eyes suddenly widened, he gave Scarlet a hard shove and Scarlet found himself back down on the beach pebbles and Xanthic firing at something beyond the deadfall.
“You cannot hide from us, Earthmen.”
Scarlet scrambled backwards on his elbows to the other end of the tree, rolled, and tried to get a line of sight on the replicant. Or rather, replicants! Where the Hell the second one had come from was anyone’s guess. But Xanthic was doing a decent job of keeping them pinned by the boat they’d snuck up on them in. Scarlet brought his own gun up, relaxed his shoulders, and took a deep breath. He let it out slowly, sighted, and pulled the trigger on the replicant stupid or foolhardy enough to poke its head above cover. Its compatriot came out of cover just enough for Xanthic to do the same to it.
“Blue, Professor, are you okay?” Scarlet called out, quickly scanning the waterline for any other replicants. “Damn it, no Mysteron gun to keep them down!”
“We’re fine!” Blue called back. “What was that?”
“Two more of them snuck up on us in a boat.” Xanthic scanned the treeline behind them. "Where's our backup?"
"Another twenty minutes out." Blue replied.
"One almost walking wounded, one elderly subject, no Mysteron gun, bad weather." Scarlet glanced out at the waves, then the boat the Mysterons had brought, then to Xanthic to get the resident fish's opinion on the odds of them trying to cross the water again.
But Xanthic was already moving toward the bodies.
“XAN! What are you doing?” Scarlet limped after the younger officer.
Xanthic sent two more shots into the replicants with clinical dispassion. “Buying ourselves time.” He grabbed one body and started to haul it back to the tree they’d taken cover behind. “I know you have your own hidden goodies, a magnesium stick wouldn’t be one of them by any chance?”
Scarlet blinked for a moment then what Xanthic was asking dropped into place. “Yes. But won’t that make us more visible?”
“We’re visible either way.” He shoved the body up against the tree and pointed to himself and his bright yellow tunic. “Hello, squid bait here.” He headed back to the other body. “But it’s also a beacon for the backup to help find us. Besides, as someone once said ‘when all else fails, use fire.’”
Scarlet couldn’t argue with that, so he headed back to the tree and pulled out one of his knives to shave some tinder off the tree. Luckily the weather had been clear so the wood was dry. It didn’t take long to have a nice little fire going. Xanthic had rifled both bodies for anything useful and who these poor souls had been. Their families deserved to know they’d been murdered and not just vanished.
A check in on Blue and Winston showed that they were both indeed okay, though Winston was starting to show some quite understandable signs of stress, then Scarlet busied himself with finding a spot to set up an ambush. He picked out a good area between the shack and the fire, made sure he had decent cover and waited.
The wind had died down a little, so this time he heard the whine of a two stroke engine and signalled to the others just before the dingy came into view. It had a crew of three this time, and he could see the long, dark shapes of assault rifles against their clothing.
Xanthic was muttering extremely rude things, loud enough for Scarlet to hear them at his position. “Xan.”
“What! Motherfuckers want Winnie, who is one of the nicest people I’ve ever met, just because they think they can hurt Earth or use him in some way.” Xanthic kept watching the tree line and the approaching boat. “I’m looking forward to watching them burn.”
Scarlet noted, not for the first time, that underneath the smiling exterior was a ruthless streak as broad as Scarlet’s own.
It was something that he approved of.
The dingy nosed into the shore and the three occupants jumped out and flattened themselves onto the beach before they could get shot. This lot seemed to have some kind of training as they waited for any reaction to their presence, using the shape of the land for cover and slowly moving up towards the fire and the shack. They took care to make as little noise as possible.
But, just as Xanthic had anticipated, the fire was too great a draw to ignore, especially with how the sky was darkening with the approaching night, and they started moving in that direction.
“Come on, come on, just a little more…” Scarlet mentally urged the trio, waiting for them to show enough of themselves to be a target.
CRACK
Scarlet kept his eyes on the ones in front of him. He had to let Blue and Xanthic deal with what was behind him. Even if it did make his shoulders itch. However the sound of gunfire was enough to bring the ones he was watching into range and give him what one of his old gunnery officers liked to call ‘a target rich environment’.
‘Destiny Angel to Captain Scarlet, Captain Blue, or Captain Xanthic, come in.’
Scarlet was pretty sure the line ‘voice like an angel’ had been used on the ladies before, but right then? True angels couldn’t be sweeter. “Captain Scarlet to Destiny Angel. Damn good to hear you.”
‘So it would seem. Would you like a hand?”“We’d be delighted to change dance partners with you, Destiny Angel.” Blue’s voice said in Scarlet’s earpiece.
“Then let me see what I can do to fill my dance card.”
There was a roar of engines above and the sleek white Interceptor dropped through the murky, scudding clouds to lay down a line of bullets into the trees. Something blew up, then she swung around to do the same to the boats on the shoreline just in case a surprise was lurking there for them.
“Hey, Destiny? I think I’m in love with you.” Xanthic radioed.
There was a gentle laugh. “You tell all the Angels that.”
“What can I say? I’ve got a weakness for strong, beautiful, incredibly kickass women.”
There was a discreet cough on the line. “If you’re done flirting Xan, how about you tell me where the hell you are? There are three roads here all named East Anvil,” Ocher said.
"Stick your head out the door and look for the smoke," was Scarlet’s amused instruction.
"S.I.G." There was a pause, then "Got it, be there in two."
Scarlet still kept a close watch on the lake, but to his deep relief the throaty rumble of an SPV grew ever louder until the blunt white bumper pushed through the dense foliage and onto the beach. The side door popped open and Ochre emerged with the Mysteron gun in hand. "Need a ride?" he asked cheekily.
SIG
A few days later, after Professor Winston had been delivered to a safe house and the Mysteron threat had passed, Colonel White was strolling through the base on one of his unofficial 'inspection' tours. He was going to pass by the Officer's Lounge, not wishing to disturb his men at rest, but as he approached the door, something peculiar caught his attention.
It wasn't usual for the Officer's Lounge to have a sharp, chemical smell about it, due to Ochre’s penchant for building model aircraft and needing adequate space and light for his hobby. This was not, however, the smell of epoxy glue. And there usually wasn't this much giggling coming from the Lounge either, be it male or female
White could only assume that the giggles and laughter were what hid the sound of the door to the lounge opening and his arrival. As such he stood off to the side of the door and just observed his people in a moment of ease. It was an odd moment to be sure. Ochre, Blue, and Magenta were all lined up on one of the couches. Sitting in front of them were Melody, Symphony, and Xanthic, who had the others' feet in their laps and were laughing. Scarlet was sitting off by himself, but Grey was standing behind him with hands on both shoulders and basically keeping Scarlet pinned in place. Not that Scarlet couldn’t have freed himself in a matter of moments, but it seemed to be more of the idea than the need. What he couldn’t figure out what was going on.
Behind him, the door slid open and Cobalt strode in, grinning. “Got it! Your turn -” He blinked as he caught sight of White.
White did give him credit, it was no more than a blink, a nod in salute since both hands were full, and a “Sir.” Then he headed for Scarlet and Grey.
“Captain.”
His voice was enough to make most of the others jump. Xanthic swore a fairly broad oath at Magenta. “Now I have to clean the top of your foot, again. Will you just hold still?”
“Sir!” Scarlet tried to stand, but Grey pushed him back down. “This isn’t what it looks like.”
White walked deeper into the lounge and caught a glimpse of the extremely lurid pink gracing the top of Magenta’s foot. “Then pray, do tell what this is. Because it looks like a nail painting party.”
"Team bonding exercise, sir." Cobalt was pure professional as he put his supplies down on a nearby table- cotton pads, a bottle of acetone, and a tube of some kind of lotion.
"Oh?" The question was mildly put as White observed the colours that some of his officers had already been decorated with and the little bottles set out for those waiting their turn. It only took a moment to deduce the colours were matched to uniforms, and the white and gold bottles were presumably reserved for the Angels.
"Where on earth did you find those colours?" White asked, eyeing the bright pink on Magenta.
"I know people." Xanthic’s grin was dangerous.
"So it seems." White studiously ignored the pleading 'sir, please save me!' look that Scarlet was sending his way. Knowing he was barely keeping a lid on his amusement, White announced "Well then, I shan't interrupt you any further. Carry on." He nodded to them all, turned and left, a smile twitching at his lips.
“Right, boots OFF Scarlet, and don’t make me do it.” Cobalt’s order was the last thing White heard as the door slipped shut.
Yes, bringing Cobalt and Xanthic up to Cloudbase had proved to be a very sound decision.
@mariashades and I were reading and thoroughly enjoying all the other scenes from HOME, when this one popped up.
This takes place about a week after the end of Home.
This is part of the Movement-verse AU created by the incredible @janetm74.
Warning: Tissues may be needed
...
The captains had left the day before, which had made the house seem even emptier. Alan was used to knocking around by himself, but for two glorious weeks, he’d had a family. Even if it had only been parts of his family, he’d had them. Adam, Brad, Pat, and Paul had sort of slid into - not big brother, but favorite uncle or close cousin slots in Alan’s head, and he missed them. Not as much as Scott and Gordon did, but he missed them all the same. That being said, Alan had questions. Big ones, that he was sure he wasn’t supposed to have or even have the answers to, but he was still going to ask them.
He’d set the stage carefully with half-remembered foods from the life before. Chicken and dumplings, flaky biscuits for dunking in the sauce, and a sweet corn casserole. Once Scott and Gordon had gorged on that, he’d brought out the star of the evening: a three-layer cake with a fluffy white icing.
He set it down, handed Scott the cake knife, and asked, “So, how long has Paul been superhuman?”
In his defense, Scott was halfway into a food coma, lulled into a relaxed state and distracted by the sight of the cake and the task of portioning it out. The eldest Tracy took in a breath and was preparing to answer (because he answered his brothers’ questions) when the question hit his conscious mind and he stopped short, setting down the knife. He blinked and clearly scrambled for something to say. “Ah, uh, he’s not?” Scott attempted, floundering and directing a pleading look at Gordon for assistance while he tried to figure out something plausible to say.
Amber eyes alight with mischief, Gordon eagerly leaned forward to throw his two cents in. "Well, when one super-powered human meets that other special super-powered - OW!" He jumped and winced, leaning down to rub his shin where Scott had kicked him under the table.
Alan just sat there, eyes slightly narrowed as he took in his brother’s reactions and kept quiet. He’d learned from both Kayo and Lady P that sometimes the best way to interrogate someone was to say nothing at all.
Scott glowered at Gordon, then pinched the bridge of his nose. Little brothers. Oi. He looked at Alan, knowing his brother was more than intelligent enough to start connecting the dots. "Paul is human, and he's our friend and he's earned our trust,” he said. "We're not allowed to say more than that."
"So he is 'super' human." Alan sat back. "Or is the correct term 'augmented'?" He waved the words away. "Doesn't matter. Gords broke his jaw, we all heard it, but he was fine afterwards. So this has got to be some top-secret Spectrum thing." He gave his brothers a pleading look. "It's not going to happen to either of you, is it?"
"I hope to high heaven it doesn't." The words slipped out of Scott before he could put a stop to them. "It...wasn't a Spectrum thing."
"Well, shit." Alan chewed on his thumbnail. "It can't have been Fischler, Paul survived it. Which means there's some other idiot scientist out there.” He sat up, his face becoming even more still as something occurred to him. “Is that why Paul's in Spectrum? Because it's safer for him?"
"We do protect him, yes..." Scott looked to Gordon and flicked his fingers, keeping the plate of cake between him and Alan. Help?
Gordon just looked at Scott and then turned to Alan, face deadly serious. "Al, we really can't tell you. The less you know, the less danger you'll be in. Just trust us on this for now, please?"
"And no asking EOS or Cloudbase." Scott added.
"I'm not twelve, Scooter." Alan gave his oldest brother an irritated look, before turning to his closest brother. "Is it really that dangerous, Gords? More than flying to Europa and going under the ice?"
"Yes, it is," Scott said quietly. "The others were serious the other night, about the odds of our boss having Paul shot if he found out about the information he gave out."
"He's not in danger, is he? I mean, people really don't get shot for disobeying orders anymore, do they? We had to know. If S.D. pulls his plans off, then the whole world is in trouble, more than it is now." Alan drummed his fingers on the table. A habit that no end of teachers, tutors, and older siblings hadn’t been able to rid him of.
"The Old Man would, but you're right, you all had to know, and that's why Paul was so sure he could get away with it."
Alan sat back with a growing scowl. "I really don't want to meet this 'Old Man' of yours, in some ways he sounds worse than S.D."
"You've met him before, but you were too little to remember. He's a good man, don't get me wrong," Scott tried to explain before Alan could set his mind in stone about the Colonel, "and he hates S.D. But when it comes to the fate of the world level stuff, he doesn't play with the security around it. And he's got to take a hard line to protect us, his people, from security leaks." Scott grimaced. "At the basic level there's a lot of folks with families who'll be in danger if colour code officers’ identities get out, but can you imagine the panic if the information about the Mysterons got out?"
"I said I'm not twelve, I'm not an idiot either," Alan snapped back, giving both of his brothers a look edged in Tracy Temper as he stood, insulted. "I like Paul, therefore, I'm going to worry about him. Just like I worry about you, Gords, John, Virgil, Kayo, Lady P, Parker, and Grandma. Clean up the kitchen when you're done. I'm going to my room. I have homework." He stalked out of the kitchen, trailing storm clouds and slamming the door shut behind him.
Scott watched him go, sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling like an absolute heel with how he’d fumbled the conversation. "...well that could have gone a lot better."
"Yeah, no shit." Gordon reached out to snag the knife and cut himself a slice of the cake. "We and I mean you, big brother, need to remember that our Squirt isn't so little anymore. You also need to remember we all had a hand in raising him. He's got John's smarts, my drive, Virgil's compassion, Kayo's skill, and your heart. We forget that at our peril."
"You're right about that." Scott also cut himself a slice, needing some fortification before he even considered tackling a Tracy in a temper. "Odds are he's going to go away, think about it, come back, and have the right answer."
"And he'll probably spring it on us over breakfast." Gordon took a bite of the cake and groaned. "Walnut with meringue icing. Whoever he ends up married to, better love exercising."
"Yup." Scott also took a bite. "...wow... this is... yeah, you're right, they'd better love exercise."
They finished the cake in silence, both wrapped in their thoughts.
Scott sighed as he stood up. “I’d better beard the lion in his den before he makes up his mind too much about Spectrum and the Colonel.” He waved a hand. “Mind doing the clean up?”
Gordon looked around at the nearly spotless kitchen, the only things besmirching it was the cake, the plates, and the utensils they’d used. “This isn’t clean up. Not sure what it is, but it’s not clean up. What the hell happened to our little slob?”
Scott huffed out a laugh. “He grew up more than any of us expected.” He headed for the door.
“I’m pretty sure he’s been more grown up than any of us expected for a very long time, Scooter.”
“...I think you’re right, Fish,” was the parting remark that Scott made, pausing at the door just long enough to deliver it before letting himself out and into the main area of the house.
He slowly moved through the building, turning off lights in the unused spaces out of habit and to give himself time to order his thoughts.
When he was at last ready, Scott knocked on the bedroom door and at the muffled grunt he let himself in. Alan was at the desk, typing away at something that involved strings of numbers and pointedly ignoring him. Normally, Scott would have quite happily let the different equations draw his attention, but there was something else he had to sort out first. “Alan?” he asked, crossing the room and crouching next to the desk.
“Mm.” Alan’s eyes didn’t move from the hologram.
The eldest sighed, he’d really put his foot into things. “Alan, I’m sorry. Neither of us meant to treat you like a kid, but this isn’t our secret to share and we have to be careful, really, really careful about what we can say.”
Alan didn’t even dignify that with a grunt of acknowledgment.
Scott rubbed his hand over his eyes, this was going to need some big guns. “Alan, you saw what happened in the kitchen the other day,” he said quietly, “can you imagine what UnNamed would do if he caught wind of it? I know you wouldn’t say anything about it willingly…”
“But we’ve got our own protocols for reasons.” Alan left off typing. They’d carefully partitioned off who knew about what so that just in case someone was captured and interrogated, not all of their secrets would be available. “And if S.D. knew that someone at Spectrum had the ability to heal that quickly…” he paled at the thought and turned to look at Scott. “The amount of money he could make off that would be obscene…”
“Yeah. It’s another reason why we really don’t want him to be World President.” Scott grimaced. “He’d get the full briefing, including what happened to Paul. We talked about it a couple of nights ago, spitballing what might happen.”
“Dollars to donuts, Paul will get transferred somewhere and never be seen again.” Alan’s voice was very quiet as he extrapolated out what would most likely happen. “But… you’d all protect him, right?” He looked at Scott, blue eyes very wide.
Scott nodded. “Yeah, we’ve got some plans together. We’d hide him for as long as we could, and he’s got a bunch of places where he can go to ground. He’s also got… contingencies. Permanent ones. He made it pretty clear that absolutely no one will get anything from him.” Scott grimaced at the memory of that particular conversation- Paul had laid out his plans in very clinical terms, then gone outside and spent a long time sitting on the dock and staring out into the night, Adam sitting beside him to watch his back and guard his privacy as Paul worked through his extremely complicated emotions on the matter.
“But his accelerated healing, could it help other people?” Alan asked, a furrow of concentration marking his brow as he chased down the tangent thought. “Spectrum could do their own research and turn it into some sort of medicine? Or make their own version of the treatment he went through?”
The elder Tracy shook his head. “There was some investigation on if that part could be teased out, but it’s most likely a package deal with some other stuff, and the price tag of it all, and especially continuing that research, was way too high. Mengele-level stuff.”
Alan ducked his head and crossed his arms, fingers tapping his upper arm as he mulled the information over. Scott quirked a brief half-smile at the sight- Alan looked so much like John in this moment there was no doubt they were brothers, despite how very different they looked.“...he’s a Mysteron replicant, isn’t he?” Alan lifted his head as he breathed out the answer. “That’s how he can heal like that.”
“Paul is a good and trusted friend. He’s saved my life, Gordon’s life, John’s life, and countless others.” Scott replied carefully, confirming without confirming anything. “Stuff happened to him, yes, but where it counts he’s human and he’s Paul.” This was a conversation that the other captains had very deliberately had with him and Gordon- emphasizing Paul’s humanity and putting the focus on Paul-the-person, not Scarlet-the-replicant.
“Scott, you’re still a lousy liar.” Alan ran a hand through his hair. “Paul’s a replicant.” He waved a hand to stop the words before Scott could even say them. “Yes, he’s human. But he’s a special human. One that people would do - really bad things to if they knew, and not just S.D.” He sat back with a small grin. “So he really is superhuman.”
Scott sat back on his heels. It was going to take a while to get used to this grown-up Alan vs the little brother his mind still had Alan at. “He is. But you can’t say anything.”
"I won't," Alan responded absently, picking at a hangnail on his thumb as the new information percolated through his brain.
Scott couldn't help the fond smile as he watched Alan extrapolate and calculate. Gordon was right, John’s smarts were right there, front and center.
Alan looked up at him, a frown of concern marking his brow. "Scott… is, is Paul okay?" He put a very familiar weight on the word, the same weight used whenever a worried family member was checking in with someone. "The Mysterons had to kill him to replicate him… no… they would have murdered him and then used him…that has to have messed with him."
That statement was pure Virgil's compassion, just as Gordon had said. "He wasn't, not at first." Scott shifted to sit cross-legged on the floor, it was more comfortable. "And you're right, he was murdered and effectively puppeted for almost a day, he doesn't remember anything from that time. It's not really talked about, but according to Adam he was pretty grim and moody for a while, and he's developed some quirks from it, but the others say he's coping a lot better now."
"That's good to know." Alan slid out of his chair and sat beside Scott, leaning against him. Scott automatically put an arm around him and they sat in silence for a time until Alan finally ventured a quiet "Scott?"
"Yeah?" Scott asked just as quietly, sensing something heavy was on his littlest brother’s mind.
"You know, ever since starting college and meeting other people, I've started wondering if S.D. isolated us on the Island just to hide how severely messed up our lives were." The words were let out reluctantly.
"I don't think it was the main reason, but it was something in the 'pro' column." Was Scott’s reply to that, and he gave Alan a reassuring squeeze.
"What was the main reason?" To Scott’s ears, Alan didn't sound like he wanted to know.
"Are you sure you want that answer?"
"...yes."
"As near as I can figure, there were two main ones- to have an independent territory to make the legalities for iR a hell of a lot easier, and to keep Brains isolated and under his control."
"What?" Alan bolted upright. "We have to get him out of there!"
"We can't." Scott looked down, the old pain of Brains' situation flaring to life. "He doesn't see it like that, at least not yet. Mark- the Mechanic- tried to talk to him about it before he left, but Brains doesn't see his situation as something bad. I don't like it any more than you do, but Brains doesn't think he needs rescuing." Scott shook his head sadly. "He started to come out of it while UnNamed was in the Oort Cloud, but as soon as he was back, Brains fell back into the old pattern again. He’s not ready to be rescued yet."
“But - “ Alan took a deep breath and throttled back whatever it was he was going to say. “We can’t save everyone.” It was Thunderbird Three that said those words to his Commander. “No matter how badly we want to.”
Scott’s heart broke a little and he gathered Alan into a hug. “No, no we can’t. We can’t save people who aren’t ready or willing to be saved.” ‘No matter how much it hurts.’ But he kept that to himself. Alan was mature beyond his years, but Scott didn’t want him to have to learn that lesson just yet.
Alan held the hug for a long moment, then pulled back. “So, what can we do?” His eyes narrowed as he worked the problem.
“Be there. Be ready to help or to rescue him when he’s ready or,” it was Scott’s turn to center himself, “when there is no other choice.” He desperately hoped it didn’t come to that, but once again, the brutal facts of his life tended to lean in that direction.
Alan’s jaw tightened and Thunderbird Three came to the fore. “Then we need contingencies and backups.” He stood up, swiped closed the file he was working on, and opened another one. “He won’t leave without MAX. We need a place that both of them can stay at or hide out at if need be.” He split the screen into three parts. “We need a list of places with pros and cons for each one. We need a covert way to get Brains and MAX off the Island, as well as an overt one.” Alan’s fingers drummed on the desk as he thought.
Scott pulled himself upright with care, he was healing, but not yet healed. However, the minor aches were nothing compared to the pride he had in watching Alan work the problem. Here was Gordon’s drive with Virgil’s compassion, mixed with a healthy dose of John’s smarts and Kayo’s skill, and Scott could not be prouder.
"Remember, Virgil and John are also available assets," he pointed out, leaning on the edge of the desk, "as is EOS."
"Could EOS work on Brains through MAX?" Alan chewed his lip as he considered the thought.
"Worth asking." Scott nodded his agreement. Brains listened to MAX, it might just work. "We'll have to consider all iR assets as compromised, but FAB1 and FAB2 are safe. We've already got plans for extracting Virgil with a Spectrum sub or helicopter, if the timing is right we can get all three of them out at the same time."
"What about locations?" Alan frowned as he rapidly made notes.
"Not here." Scott shook his head. "UnNamed knows about this place and as far as he's concerned, Brains is irreplaceable. He let me, Gordon and you go, but he'll come after Brains. The Manor is an option though."
“Maybe for us, but not for Brains, it doesn’t have a workshop. Not to mention S.D. knows about it and he’d look there.” Alan’s fingers drummed again. “We need places that S.D. won’t look at and that have a setup that would keep Brains and MAX happy for the duration.” He typed things into one of the screens, faster than Scott could read them. “Spectrum is out because he’d look there because of you and Gordon.”
“Actually, UnNamed doesn’t know Gordon is in Spectrum.” Scott pointed out.
Alan quirked an eyebrow at that. “Really?” He snorted in contempt. “For a smart man, S.D. can be very dumb. But that opens up WASP, if Gordon is still on good terms with his friends there.”
Scott was ashamed to admit, he hadn’t thought of WASP as a bolt hole.
“I’m still in contact with Conrad Butterfield, he’s got room on the SpaceHub and S.D. wouldn’t think to look there. So that’s two possibilities.”
“Good idea. I’ll message John, he might know a couple of places too. Push comes to shove, we can probably stash him on Cloudbase for a few days if we have to wait for something else to be ready. Brains will love Cloud and the engineering deck and the Old Man will keep UnNamed well away.” Scott mused, reading over Alan’s notes, then he looked at Alan and just stopped for a moment.
Alan was an adult.
The concept struck Scott, not yet uprooting the old mental image of ‘little brother teenage Allie’ but certainly shaking its foundations.
His littlest brother, the baby of the family, was all grown up. He’d filled out and gained height, the lines of his face had sharpened and he’d mostly shed the baby fat, and he had a maturity to him that was well beyond his years. He was driven and smart, wise in a way that none of them had been at his age, with a heart that matched them all.
Small wonder he’d had to warn off Paul from recruiting him, Alan was exactly the sort of person that White looked out for.
“Hey, Alan?” Scott reached out and touched Alan’s shoulder to make sure he had his brother’s attention, knowing how Alan could blot out just about everything when he really focused on a task.
“Yeah, Scott?”
Scott felt his expression change as he looked at Alan, his smile coloured with sadness, but also with pride as he told his brother, “Mom would be so incredibly proud of you.”
Alan blinked several times as those words sank into his brain. The confident man vanished and was replaced by an uncertain boy. “You think so?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I haven’t done anything important yet. Not like she did.”
Scott took hold of Alan’s other shoulder. “You’ve saved hundreds, if not thousands, of lives. You always think of other people first. You’ve planned your future around making the world a better place, and you’re planning how to help someone that doesn’t even know he needs the help yet.” The smile was still sad but it was broad. “She would be so proud of you. Just like I’m proud of you. Alan, you’re the best of us.”
Is there any news about the gangsta au series? 👉👈✨💕if not can we at least get another sneak peek, pretty please 💕?
Uhhhh there hasn't been much progress on my gangsta au because I have hit a writer's block for that🙈😭 I keep on opening the word doc and promptly shutting it 😂😂
I hope I can write it one day and put it forth but for now, it's added to my list of WIPs
A French term which translates as ‘new art’, Art Nouveau was a decorative style of architecture and interior design which appeared in Europe and the United States in the 1890′s, transforming art and design. The movement was characterized by stylized, sinuous lines and curving, organic forms. Art Nouveau painting is typified by extravagant patterns and elegant female figures inspired by Eastern art and 19th century explorations of machinery and artisanship. Fantastic, elegant, erotic, Art Nouveau is seen in painting, drawing, commercial design, and architecture.
Dessin Mescalinien. Henri Michaux. 1956. 12 1/2 x 9 1/2 in
Untitled (Ship). Wols. 1955.
Untitled. Hans Hartung. 1956. 13 1/2 x 10 1/2 in.
The French word ‘informel’ means ‘without form’ rather than ‘informal’. In the 1950s Art Informel artists were looking for a new way to create images without using the recognizable forms characteristic of their predecessors (Cubism and Expressionism). Their aim was to abandon geometrical and figurative forms and to discover a a new artistic language. They invented shapes and methods that came about by improvisation. The work of Art Informel artists is extremely varied but they often used free brushstrokes and thick layering of paint. Like Abstract Expressionism, which developed simultaneously in the United States, Art Informel is a very broad label and includes figurative and non-figurative painters. Although centered mainly in Paris, its influence reached other parts of Europe, notably Spain, Italy, and Germany.
