Category Archives: Fanfiction

Sherlock-The Magician’s Circle

sherlock-molly

 

SHERLOCK:

THE MAGICIAN’S CIRCLE

WRITTEN BY ZARIUS

(contains spoilers for “The Lying Detective”)


Sherlock briefly took his eye off of Molly as she checked his pulse.

“Keep still” Molly said, placing the cold end of the stethoscope onto to Sherlock’s bare chest, listening for any irregular beats. To her silent alarm, she found a few.

Sherlock could tell from her face that this was unsettling her.

“I don’t make it easy on you do I?” he asked.

“When you gamble with your health the way you have, no, no Sherlock it’s never easy” Molly replied.

“Do you think John is right? Do you think I use you?” Sherlock inquired.

“I like to be useful, that’s how I like to look at it” she said.

“A comfortable lie, obscuring truth…the truth is that I am not one of the better men in your life” Sherlock replied, coughing gently as Molly gave his lower regions a tight grip with her right hand.

“Most of the people in my life never respond to me, living or dead, the fact you and John still do puts you in far better company”

“What would it take for you to wash your hands of me?” Sherlock suggested.

“I think I’ve got a lot of you to wash off as it is” Molly remarked.

Sherlock’s face briefly lit up, appreciating the joke.

“No” he said calmly, “I mean this in the most sincere manner Molly Hooper, if you finally caved, if you believed I could never come back from the path I’ve travelled down, that I could not be fixed or saved, how would you convey that to me?” Sherlock asked.

“Are you asking me this because you’re not so sure you’re coming back from this?” Molly asked.

“I need you to look past the physical examination, and examine your sense of self…everyone has a breaking point…”

“I would break it to you gently” said Molly.

“Really?” Sherlock asked

“I’d…give something back too, something that was meaningful…to you, to me, to let you know that I wouldn’t want to keep even that which mattered”

“The riding crop?” Sherlock asked.

Molly sighed.

“This isn’t what you want to hear is it? What I would do…this is about what you think John would give back, if he felt he couldn’t put up with you anymore”

“I knew our brief time as investigators together would permit you to compose a most precise deduction” Sherlock said in a complimentary manner.

“I observe plenty, like you do, but I don’t exactly sit still and let it stir me” Molly replied in response, handing Sherlock his trousers. Sherlock quickly snatched them up.

“Thankyou for the thorough examination” Sherlock replied.

“His cane” Molly suddenly said aloud.

Sherlock’s eyes lit up.

Of course.

“If John didn’t want to come back, if he felt there was no going back, he’d hand you his cane, back when he had that phantom pain, the pain you…the pain you took away. He’d want you to have that, as a crutch” she said.

“Excellent, be sure to tell him that when you nip over to his place for some quality time with the baby” Sherlock replied.

“Wait, you want me to tell him…all that? What someone would do to cut ties to someone they care about?” Molly asked, confused.

“In her best sentimental manner, yes” Sherlock said.

“Are you trying something funny?” Molly inquired.

“We are crossing over to a place where there is no room for error or jest…I need John to part ways with that cane at a precise moment, a moment where everyone except myself must lose sight and sense of the plan”

“What if John sees it more like a trick?” Molly asked.

“Then I shall set myself a reminder that, to John, I must distinguish strategy from magic”

As Sherlock proceeded to put back on his clothes so that he may get on with more of what he had planned, Molly reflected on John’s words to her from earlier, about being used, and what Sherlock had just said to her.

She knew this wasn’t a game, and she would be as direct about that to Sherlock’s face as he would be to John, but she could not help but feel the long term goal Sherlock obviously had in mind, to mend the fractured path he and John walked together on, could be best mended by her playing along.

And to that end, she was determined to make her role count in the magician’s circle.

Sherlock-Unearthed From The Urban Meadow

sherlock-molly

SHERLOCK

UNEARTHED FROM THE URBAN MEADOW

WRITTEN BY ZARIUS

(Contains spoilers for “The Lying Detective”)


Sherlock’s hands gripped John’s head tightly as the good doctor, qualified to deal with so much in life, came to grips at last with the imposing vacancy provided by loss.

Mary was gone, that reality had finally sunk in as John confessed to her lingering ghost of his interest in another, a woman on a bus, a pretty little flower that had unearthed itself from the urban meadow and, in a casual manner, had spurred John on to embrace her fragrance.

It always starts so casually, and from there the complications grow. The risk, the danger, all the addictive elements that make up the psyche of John Watson.

The elements that had led him so easily to Mary, a moth to flame, a flame now extinguished. He felt almost akin to a puppet, his strings cut, nothing holding him up.

He had to turn and face the strange, but to do so in the arms of a stranger would bring him no peace. It is only fitting then, that he find solace in Mary’s legacy.

The two of them together, Holmes and Watson, together again, each the strongest part of the other, built to last for as long as the grief and pressure shall burden them.

The tight embrace of the two men, however, could not endure the repetitive joyful moans of a sexually perverse ring tone on the table next to Sherlock’s chair.

“Oh will you bloody answer that already?” John asked of his dear friend, releasing his grip from Sherlock and tending to his wet and weary eyes beset by tears.

“That’s not how she plays the game” Sherlock replied.

“She lost her game years ago, this is life we’re dealing with” John replied.

“She said it wasn’t a game” Sherlock muttered.

“Who did?” John asked

“Last person to cross my mind…” Sherlock mumbled.

“Molly?” John said, probing further.

“When she examined me for the medical, she said the drugs in my body were steadily killing me, that she’d seen healthier bodies on the slab”

“You looked like utter shit and you acted like one” remarked John.

Sherlock picked up the phone to read the messages left to him by Irene Adler, John now aware of her persistent existence, and not being overly fond of Sherlock having to prioritise her now at such crucial a juncture.

“Well, spit it out, anything other than birthday wishes?”

“She just says ‘had lunch?” Sherlock replied.

“…Doesn’t she always want dinner?” asked John.

“This isn’t a want on her part John, it’s an ask. A ‘how are you doing?‘ My god, she’s at that phase of her private life where she wants some reassurance there’s a voice out there that isn’t too busy”

“Well you kind of are…busy” said John, urging Sherlock to put the phone away and continue to provide him some measure of solace.

“I could try to give her some clarity, but that would only serve to form a connection…”

“What exactly do you think we were just doing there?” John said, trying to keep his frustrations in slightly. But only slightly.

“You’re different, you’re within reach” Sherlock replied, “And you have a fresh wound, hers is but a lingering scar, I’m the scab she likes to prick at on the skin, hoping I’ll turn blood red and pour myself out to her”

“And are you? Remember what I said Sherlock” said John.

“About not letting people like that out of my sight? Must you be reminded of the connections she has to the web of Moriarty? I haven’t spared him a thought the last three weeks, but rest assured, I have made plans to appoint fresh concerns for his posthumous game for the next week…who knows, perhaps this is a part of it”

“So answer it, and get your assurances out of my way so you can continue to help those within reach”

“It would be so easy, but as I’ve learned John, the urban jungle flourishes through hardship and an instinctive desire to put up with so many above the individual. I have committed to that cause, as have you. I cannot permit myself to play a game when the players around me are too much sane, in mind or heart, to play with either me or the one I concern myself with”

“Right, well then, guess she isn’t that kind of person then?” John replied, a slight look of assurance on his face.

“Hooper?”

“Last person you think of, but her words are never the last thing you think of”

“Oh don’t start that again” Sherlock replied

“She is though Sherlock. Without a moment’s hesitation, she’s there; you just push her to the back benches like some unwanted MP, when she has been to hell and back for you as long as I have”

“She’s seen more men than me in a state of undesired undress, none of them as capable of satisfying her needs as I, and they happen to be deceased. I think that’s the minimal amount of hell she’s permitted” Sherlock replied.

“Then give her a slice of heaven Sherlock, let her see with her own two eyes how you rebuilt this bridge between us, show her that you don’t just set things on fire because you enjoy the world more when it’s alight, invite her over for lunch, you, me, her, Rosie, all together, we’ll go and have chips…”

“Oh no, I mustn’t think of chips” said Sherlock, reflecting on his troubled evening spent with Faith, a figment of his imagination that had almost trodden his reality underfoot and compromised his investigation into Culverton Smith.

“Cake then. A place with cake” John suggested.

“Is that the drug that makes you think you have about a month to cross the street?” Sherlock asked.

“A place with cake Sherlock, the usual sort, we’re going to all have that. Cake and coffee, and chit-chat”

“Will there be cream?” asked Sherlock.

“Are you saying that to entice you further into going along with this, or are you just glad you got a text from Adler?” asked John

“Last thing to cross my mind John, I assure you” Sherlock replied.

“There, see, you’re learning, push Molly slightly upwards, leave the pawn behind and give your all to the players” said John.

Sherlock pondered John’s words; he admired greatly how quick he was to turn from the temper brought on by the grief, and to put forward to him the reminders he needed. To elevate those important to him.

To give their words to him even greater meaning in micro-managing his own path through the streets of London.

But, perhaps more tellingly, to unearth his own flower from the urban meadow.

Sherlock-The Appropriate World

sherlock-molly

SHERLOCK:

THE APPROPRIATE WORLD

WRITTEN BY ZARIUS

(Contains spoilers for 4×01, “The Six Thatchers”)


Molly had tended to the baby’s needs all day, so much so that she had neglected to tend to her own.

Her hair was a mess, she hadn’t popped over to the stores for a supply of fresh make-up, she hadn’t been eating all that much, the money being spent more on giving little Rosie her baby food and milk when John would occasionally forget to make the ’rounds as he dealt with late hours at his practice.

Throughout it all, the lingering stench of dread hung over her, dread for what was to come next.

Death was always a horrific business. Working for the police had taught her nothing else. There was an unkindly pattern to it all, the very worst emotions slip out when dealing with it, and the people affected by whatever lingers in its wake.

Ghosts of the past, and there had been so very many, had rarely been laid to rest within her circle, and this was perhaps the unkindest ghost of all.

Ironic perhaps, because of how inviting, warm and strong Rosie’s mother, the late Mary Watson, had proven to be in life.

Molly could still remember the day she and John Watson wed, a day also filled with mayhem. A best man in high spirits, a speech that turned into a murder inquiry, the humiliation she felt when her then fiance Tom had tried to offer ‘input’ into the impromptu case. The wedding photographer stood exposed as the culprit.

And the sight of the best man walking out into the cold, the dark, alone. As was his normal sort of manner.

Into the concealment of night, bleeding into the black like a vampire.

How unfair she thought at the time, that he would prefer to bleed into the black than sustain his energies in the light of good company with good graces.

He had made a vow that day to safeguard the couple to protect them from harm, to cast out the forces of darkness like some naive nobleman, still believing the world’s cruelty could be held at bay, that there was hope.

Molly looked into Rosie’s innocent and engaging eyes, and from it drew the kind of strength that the last few days had sapped from her. Sapped from everyone.

Mary was lost to them now, taken in a manner that made no sort of sense, but has reckless self sacrifice ever made any?

That uncontrollable human urge to put your needs before others is what had given humanity it’s bravery, it’s very character, no matter how despairing their view of the world had become, all of us, from soldiers to police, clung to hope that what they do in their field would lead to a more prosperous and affirming future for all the love they left behind.

There was a difference though. These people all knew what they were getting into. They had learned to keep their ego in check, left it firmly standing at the door awaiting instructions. They knew not to engage it when dealing with a crisis.

And here was Sherlock, the naive nobleman, putting his foot in it at the last crucial moment. A case solved, the perpetrator jail bound, but he could not resist trying to tear off whatever vestiges of armour were left on the composed and modest culprit. Ego compelled him to. And it was that smug need to satisfy himself that forced Mary into the line of fire and take that bullet for him.

Molly knew as she looked into the baby’s eyes, peering into that welcome window to what remained of John’s own world that she had to be more of a rock than ever. She and Sherlock had been appointed god parents by the Watsons, and she was more than able and ready to honour her commitments to the child.

But she would have to do it alone.

The note from John had made it clear that Sherlock was to have nothing to do with the family from this point forward, and she was to turn him away if he were to drop by offering condolence or help of any kind.

John had come through so much, but losing Mary to Sherlock’s vain indulgences had seemingly put to bed any illusions there could be a solid foundation between the two men. Now he was going to make sure the existing circle he had built was sound enough to keep Sherlock from intruding further into Rosie’s young life, to ensure his last vow no longer entails a permanent solution to life’s cruel perspective on the John Watson problem.

That’s what Molly truly thought, that John was deeply focused on his place in the universe, and that it had been continuously dealing him a very deliberate and cruel hand through his pursuit of adventure, his pursuit of the game.

For Christ’s sake, was that all this world of hers had been reduced to?

Or had the world always been like this?

The doorbell rung.

Molly knew instinctively who it was.

She held Rosie tight and walked over to the door, and answered it.

There he stood. The naive nobleman. Offering exactly what John’s note had cautioned her about.

Molly wanted to say so much, she wanted to reach out to him, let him hold the baby in his arms, let him gaze into her eyes and understand the magnitude of the world that he had destroyed, and to strengthen his vow there and then, and to then face, with her, the challenges in dealing with Rosie’s development in years to come.

She didn’t have the confidence to do any of that. That wasn’t how the world had taught itself to work.

No, as much as it pained her to realize, to remain self-satisfied, today’s society moves along more efficiently by embracing awkwardness and turning shyly away from the hurt, not towards it.

It wasn’t her place to tell him it was alright, it was Johns’. He was the one best qualified to make judgement on the vitality of their strengths and weaknesses, whether Sherlock’s vow could prove as viable as her own.

John was Sherlock’s strength; all she could do was offer him his best friend’s present judgement on his weakness.

That may not be the noble thing, but it was, in her mind, the only just resolve to the present situation.

Whatever feelings she had, whatever love she wished to offer, that naive nobleman world in itself would have to wait a little longer, for she had to deal with an appropriate one.

Power Rangers Turbo Revisited Book#1-The Need For Speed

product_detail_826663148862An early Christmas present for you all. The first book in my series which rewrites the fifth season of Power Rangers: The Need For Speed 

 The Rangers are off to the race track to experience the “A.G 5000”. Meanwhile, on the moon, Lord Zedd, Rita, and the gang hit the jackpot and decide to spend it (un)wisely by putting a price tag on the heads of their greatest enemies.

Link

Bob’s Burgers-Enough Rope

 

 

BOB’S BURGERS:

ENOUGH ROPE

WRITTEN BY ZARIUS


“I want a crack at that whip” Louise remarked as Tina continued to thrust her right arm in a forward motion towards one of the restraint tables, with her brother Gene continuously making whiplash noises.

Their parents, Bob and Linda, walked in, caught sight of what they were doing, and were left bamboozled.

“Tina honey, what are you doing?” Bob asked.

“Just putting in an imaginary shade of grey” Tina said.

Bob instantly understood the reference and became ever so slightly miffed, he turned to Linda.

“Lyn, I told you not to leave that book lying around” he pointed out.

A small breeze briefly touched the back of his neck. He turned around, only to find nothing there. He didn’t give the sensation any further thought

“I already grounded Louise for reading it” Linda said in her defence.

“Yeah, but you know how exotic Tina gets also” Bob replied.

“Oh yeah, the butts thing…there’s a lot of that in there. Silly me” said Linda, realising the error of her ways.

“I want a crack at the whip next” said Gene.

“No dice, I promised our client I’d keep him male” said Tina.

“What kind of girl doesn’t want to make a man out of me?” asked Gene.

“Tina, let your brother fantasise about a woman in that position” said Linda

“Don’t encourage this behaviour Lyn” Bob said.

“Oh where is my head today…I know where it is, it needs to be where the dishes are, come on Bob you can help out”

“Lyn, you’re avoiding the subject, you think they’re going to cut this out? It’s a project to them, they’re going to COMMIT”

“Just let them whip it out of their system, nobody’s getting hurt”

“My client is, and he enjoys it.” Tina replied.

“That’s nice dear; good customer feedback is what we like to hear in real life too”

“Is this real life, or is this fantasy?” Bob joked.

“Dishes Bob” said Linda.

As Bob took in the greasy plates left on the far right of the bar, he noticed a young puckish boy staring intently upwards outside.

“Rudy?” said Bob, and wandered towards the front door to see what was going on.

“Hey, Mr. Belcher” said Rudy.

“Rudy, why are you staring up at Louise’s window?” Bob asked

“I’m thinking of a way to climb up”

“Seriously, like in ‘Clarissa Explains it All?'” Bob asked.

“Bobby, the dishes” said Linda.

“In a minute Lyn” said Bob.

“What’s ‘Clarissa Explains It All?'” asked Rudy

“Don’t you watch late night Nick?” asked Bob.

“Louise is always telling me I’d never last past midnight” said Rudy.

“Why do you want to climb up to Louise’s window?”

“I heard she was grounded, we were supposed to play some games at my place, thought I’d come to her instead”

“Why not just invite yourself in? You’ve been in our home upstairs before”

“Mrs. Belcher didn’t want Louise to talk to anyone today. Could you maybe convince her?”

“She’s a little too busy at the moment son..besides, even if you wanted to see her, Louise’s window is closed”

“I know, I want to get her attention somehow so she’ll open the window”

“Then how will you get up?”

“She could hand me a rope or something” Rudy explained.

Bob chuckled.

“I really think you need to think this through Rudy, this sort of thing rarely works outside of the movies”

“You think I’ll be too big for the rope to sustain?”

“Well you said it” Bob replied.

“The whole thing’s not worth talking if that window just remains shut” Rudy replied.

Bob picked up a couple of small pebbles on the ground.

“Here, chuck one of these at it, this used to work for me all the time when I wanted to hang out with my friends” Bob replied.

Rudy tossed one as far as he could, but it barely reached the intended target, falling back down at the half-way mark.

“Put a little more energy into it Rudy, like this” Bob said, hurtling his own stone.

A thunderous thud and an alarmingly harsh crack could be heard.

“Oh swell move there buddy” came a voice from behind them. Bob and Rudy turned around, and were greeted by Louise, holding a bag of sweets in her hand.

“It was your Dad” Rudy said.

“Yeah, but you encouraged the madness”

“Louise, what are you doing out here? You’re grounded” said Bob.

“Yeah, I snuck out while Tina was putting on her shady show” Louise revealed.

Bob suddenly realised where the chill that pierced the back of his neck came from earlier. While he and Linda watched Tina’s imaginary sex show, Louise had managed to creep past them and quickly slip through the door. The weather was particularly breezy so it caused a draft.

“Tina got that idea from you didn’t she?”

“You and Mom were too busy today to nip out to the store to get us our Wednesday intake of sugary goodness, so I stepped in using my knowledge of the ‘grey area’ to give Tina and Gene something to do to hold your attention”

“Yeah, well I’m going to have to confiscate those and ground all three of you for pulling that stunt” said Bob

“Yeah, and if you do, I’ll tell Mom you broke my window” said Louise.

“Oh you play this game way too well” said Bob, deflated and defeated.

“Tina’s putting on something shady? A slim chance I could see it?” said Rudy.

“Not for your innocent eyes little buddy” said Louise, grabbing his hand and pouring some sweets into it.

“Thanks” he said.

“I heard the whole thing by the way…you wanted me to hand you a rope? You abuse yourself way too much as it is” she joked.

“Or maybe the ‘Tangled’ thing” Bob asked.

“Hey, I value my hair just the same as the hat on my head” said Louise.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t want to pull it so hard it’d tear off”

“Make me an instantaneous skinhead? Worth it” Louise replied.

“OK, OK, I’ll sneak you back in Louise, but you’re still paying a small price. Rudy, go home, you can see her at school tomorrow”

“Yes sir. Thanks for the sweets Louise”

“Thanks for being sweet enough to come ’round buddy” Louise replied, nudging him on the shoulder.

As he left, Bob instructed Louise to stick closely to his back as he walked back into the restaurant, where Tina was going into overdrive on her ‘client’

“Aw look Bobby, she’s trying to earn a bonus” said Linda, beaming proudly at the fictitious feat.

“I suppose she’s not really scarring anyone except herself with this” Bob replied.

“Crack that thing quick and hard girl” said Linda

“Yeah, crack it like a window” joked Bob.

“Give yourself enough rope Dad…” Louise whispered devilishly.

Thunderbirds Are Go-Nothing More Disruptive

 

THUNDERBIRDS ARE GO!

NOTHING MORE DISRUPTIVE

WRITTEN BY ZARIUS

(Contains spoilers for “City Under The Sea”)

The little thing about Penelope’s visit to The Hood in prison is a nod to one of my previous fics, “Questionable Methods“, be sure to check if that out if you give this a read, thankyou kindly-Zarius


As Thunderbird 2 touched down on Tracy Island, Gordon, Kayo and Virgil reflected on their trip to Antarctica, bearing witness to the very edge of existence with the family they had managed to save from the submerged city.

“It’s miraculous that nice unit were so willing to exchange clear waters for icy patches” Kayo noted, “It’s like nothing really bothered them about the predicament they were in”

“It’s always like that when we’re around” Gordon replied, “We provide real reassurance”

“With the mess you leave in Thunderbird 4, it’s probably a good thing they had reassuring manners, if I were in their shoes I’d be most critical of having to sit through a craft with as many wrappers”

“Hey, it’s my space” Gordon insisted.

“Yes it is, but sometimes your space has to be their place” replied Kayo.

“Is there something I’m not catching here?” asked Virgil.

“Yes, the youngest of the Tracy clan are in dire need of watching how they dispose of their trash” Kayo insisted.

As she disembarked from Thunderbird 2 and headed to the living area upstairs, Gordon was left alone to defend his habits.

“She thinks I’m some sort of slob in secret” he said.

“Hardly secretive, you were exactly like this with Alan on Thunderbird 3 a month ago” Virgil replied.

“Yeah, but it’s a credit to Alan he didn’t tell her” Gordon replied, twiddling his fingers. Virgil opted to change the subject.

“So Penelope did a real bang up job getting the better of The Mechanic” he joked.

“Oh great swerve there Virgil, at least with the slob accusations I get to worry about something normal” Gordon snapped.

“Easy there pussycat” Virgil replied, barely intimidated. Gordon had yet to master the precise means to intimidate.

“Well, it’s just I had a lot to deal with on my plate…rescuing the family, making sure to hasten the rescue due to the growing concern of the crack on their ship getting bigger until it finally caused the glass to cave in…and then there was a moment I thought Kayo was…gone…worse still, my minds immediately turned to Penny…”

Virgil shook his head, “I’m sorry Gordon, I didn’t think…”

“No, no it’s ok, it’s the kind of stress we try to avoid through jokes and quips, and yeah, even the occasional bursts of unkempt living. Those celery bars are great stress relievers you know, when you tend to worry too much about the way you’re perceived on missions, they’re just a means with which you can kick back and just let your taste buds satisfy you more than people”

“So long as you let everyone know you’re ok, your eating habits should concern you the least. Nothing is more disruptive to how we cope with our occupations than the fear of the unknown happening to us…it’s a lot more overwhelming than what we gain from the reality of it”

“Maybe I should have a talk with Penny, see if she’s shaken up any by what went on. She can put on a tough front, but I think I’ve been letting her drift on her own too much…and Parker did tell me some unsettling thoughts he had on her visit to the Hood’s prison” Gordon replied.

“Really, like what?” said Virgil.

“That’s kind of our business for now, but we’ll let you know if it needs to be yours too” Gordon replied.

In the living area, Kayo found Alan was busy picking up the discarded wrappers off of the floor and neatly placing them in the bin he had been trying to toss them into much earlier in the day, and achieving little success. It’s what had prompted her to call him a slob

“See, a little insult goes a long way to kick in some motivation” Alan remarked.

“If it helps, Gordon is a far worse slob than you” Kayo replied.

“Really, I could have told you that a month ago” said Alan.

“And why didn’t you? ” Kayo asked, crossing her arms and looking into Alan with accusing, yet graceful, eyes.

“We’d just kind of bonded over that month I guess, we’d seen alien life, and I’d…well…”

“..Did everything he suggested?” Kayo replied.

“We got a fantastic experience out of it, and he made me feel like I’d made a good call, even if it almost got us all killed…” Alan confessed, picking up the bin and hauling it over to the kitchen.

Kayo smiled, “An honourable bond, one that gives one of each a safe sort of space, I can respect that more than leaving any actual space at the mercy of these things”

She produced a small celery bar from her pocket and offered it to Alan.

“They’re definitely the sort of taste you have to acquire; luckily I’ve mastered such a habit. Now it’s your turn” she said, unwrapping it and offering Alan a nibble.

“Celery? Well at least it’s a step up from those cheesy milkshakes he drinks…maybe in being a slob, he’s learning there’s nothing more disruptive to a healthy lifestyle than the fastest sort of food”

Alan took the bar out of the wrapper, Kayo crunched it up.

“Let me see if I can score a touchdown” she said, shoving the rest of the snack into Alan’s mouth. Alan nodded, and put some distance between the bin and Kayo.

She gave the bin a precision gaze, and flung the wrapper far across the room. It landed neatly into it.

Alan ran up to Kayo and high-fived her.

“Teach me how to stick a landing like that” he said.

“Only if you let me know next time when there’s someone making a bigger mess than you, there’s nothing more disruptive to a clean cat like me than that”

Thunderbirds Are G0-How We Get There

 

THUNDERBIRDS ARE GO!

HOW WE GET THERE

WRITTEN BY ZARIUS

(I was inspired to do this short fic after watching the preview for “City Under The Sea” on YouTube ahead of this week’s episode)


Kayo felt the fear course through her.

It was tangible, raw, the stuff of nightmares.

Here she was, at the helm of Thunderbird 4, didn’t matter how she would up here, the point now was making sure she got somewhere else.

The Mechanic’s MECHA loomed over the tiny ship as it sped into the deepest recesses of the underwater city, trying to avoid being caught in the grip of its iron-clad claws and avoid being crushed into mangled pieces.

It was not Kayo’s first rodeo with The Mechanic, having confronted him during the incident with the Earth-Shaker, another cataclysmic contraption that she and her brothers had dared to defy, and one she personally infiltrated, reaching the Mechanic, only to ultimately let him slip out of her grasp.

She wondered how she got there the first time, and if she could reach such a summit a second time.

Perhaps she couldn’t this time; perhaps this was the devil incarnate coming to collect, the mortal price she would pay for daring to get in the way of his mission.

She thought back to the reports Penelope had given the team back on the island, discussing the possibility of The Mechanic’s connections to The Hood. Her uncle. Family turned foe.

That one bad apple.

There were two once, she often thought of herself as that, but not anymore. That notion came with a different kind of fear, the fear of hiding in plain sight and counting the days to being caught. Those days were over.

That fear passed, she learned to stroll past fear that day, for on the hour of revelation, judgement passed and she was absolved of all guilt by people who understood her, who loved her, and who protected her.

The kindest souls she had ever been around had looked into her own and found it worthy of a thousand chances.

That’s what she had to focus on now as Thunderbird 4 continued to evade the attacks of The Mechanics’ MECHA. She would not let one of those thousand chances granted to her by just five brave and unconditionally loving men slip from her.

Now was not the time to be afraid of that.

So she swallowed her pride, she held her nerve, and hoped that Gordon would come to her aid soon, that this mission could be over, and so they could reach their next destination…their island, their paradise, their home.

So she could stare into the features that housed those five souls again, just so she could assure them that faith, not fear, was how she got there.