New series Implied adult situations

THE FUTILITY OF DUTY 

BY CAT 2

 

“Most exciting place you’ve ever had sex?”

She had no idea why they were playing this game, other than the fact they were all still too het up to sleep  after patrol, and sitting together in the Angels lounge, playing silly games they should have left behind with their pigtails was better than lying in their rooms trying to find sleep.

She had even less idea what made her answer so honestly: “The back of a Thunderbird.”

It was something private, something she’d never thought she’d share with anyone else, but the answer was out of her mouth before she could stop it.

“The backseat of your first boyfriend’s car?” Harmony smiled, confident of her victory. “Not very exciting there, Melody.”

“No.” She should shut up now, escape with her dignity intact rather than get involved in this juvenile game. But she felt like she was drunk, like someone else was in control of her body. “It wasn’t a car.”

“Surely not the train?” Symphony asked her almond eyes wide. Melody shook her head.

“It was an aircraft.”

The others stared at her for a moment, before Rhapsody asked uncertainly. “Which one?”

Because Rhapsody knew her well enough to know that the only long-term relationship she’d ever spoken of was with a pilot in the US Air Force. And neither she nor her lover had ever served with the Thunderbirds.

She reached over for a glass of water. The genie was out of the bottle, nothing she could say now would make it any worse. “Thunderbird One.”

It caused a moment of silence. This was definitely different from Destiny’s airplane bathroom (granted she had been meant to be flying the plane at the time); slightly more risky than Harmony’s Koala Base tryst (though she refused to say with whom); more exotic than Symphony’s teenage fling in the lobby of the Plaza hotel, although it was slightly less kinky than Rhapsody’s horse-riding adventure.

“As in the International Rescue Thunderbirds?”  Melody asked.

“You know any other Thunderbird One?” Harmony asked, still staring. 

“No way!” Symphony shook her head.

“Wow.” Melody wasn’t sure if the trace of envy in Destiny’s voice was caused by the fact that the pilot of Thunderbird One was rumoured to be a bit of a dish, or because she’d actually being aboard the most advanced aircraft in the world. She suspected the latter.

“When?” Symphony asked.

Melody paused.  “You remember that mission to Malta?”

It was over. The bomb was disabled, and the culprits caught before anyone could be hurt. She could see Captains Scarlet and Blue leading the man away from the scene, but she was hardly aware of it. There would be an enquiry later, about how a Mysteron agent could buy that amount of explosives, but she wasn’t really thinking about it. Her mind was on other matters

The Colonel had contacted International Rescue, more as a courtesy than anything else. Like the other International Aid Agencies, if this had happened, if the bomb had gone off, they’d be needed, if merely to give people a hope of carrying out a proper evacuation. Thankfully, it hadn’t come to that, but it had been a narrow thing. If the bomb had gone off, if the Mysterons had succeeded, it would have left a minimum of 20 thousand people dead or dying and half of the country uninhabitable. But she couldn’t think about that. A Spectrum cleanup crew was dealing with the remains of the bomb, and she was focusing on what had happened before.

When she’d heard the voice of Thunderbird One’s pilot over the comm., she thought she’d recognised it, but almost immediately put it out of her mind.

Then, as the Angels flew in formation, speeding towards the location, hoping, praying that Captains Blue and Scarlet were right, that the bomb, with its deadly supply of poison, was in the water tower, not underground where it would be beyond their reach, the voice came through the radio again:

“Thunderbird One to Angel Patrol. Anything I can do to help?”  

 

“I went to thank him for his help.”

“Sounds like you did that alright!” Harmony observed with a snort of laughter.

“He was very charming.” Melody knew she sounded defensive, but she didn’t care.

“So...?” Rhapsody asked, trying to get things back before an argument could break out between the two Americans.

 

“So ...?”

“What’s he’s like?”

 

She clambered out of her craft, almost falling off the ladder in her nerves.

She knew that voice; how could she not, when she’d heard it calling her name so many times? She’d thought she was in love with him… Maybe she was, but at the time, there were forces bigger than them at work.

She thought he hadn’t understood this, when she’d told him she had to leave. The Terrorism War was starting, her squadron needed her, she had to do her duty. He had nodded, calmly and told her he was going home, going to work for his father.

Now she wondered if it was she who hadn’t understood.

His craft stood apart, looking like some mutant rocket ship, next to the sleek lines of the Falcons . She could see him, bent over a panel, presumably performing some routine maintenance. Any doubt she had vanished at that moment, as she recognised that dark head, the slight olive tint of the skin from spending  hours outside at his family’s home, those long fingers.

Suddenly, she was as nervous as a girl on her first date.

“Excuse me?” she said. She watched as he turned, and  his face lit up  as he recognised her.

 

 

Melody shrugged, keeping her eyes on her cup. “You’ve all heard the rumours.”

“Yeah, but are they true? Is he really as much of a dish as people say, or is that just the relieved victims talking?” Rhapsody asked, grinning.

Melody shrugged. “He’s definitely good-looking enough.”

“What’s his name?”  Destiny cut in.

Melody bit on her lip. “I didn’t ask, and he didn’t ask mine. Professional courtesy.”  

It was a lie, but one she hoped they would forgive her for.

 

The artificial light caught the sweat running down his chest as he moved above, black hair for once untidy and ruffled. Her hands roamed over his chest. She felt  like she was  coming home.

They were both panting; her body arched beneath his.

“God, Esther…”

She held up a finger, placing it over his lips. “No names,” she muttered. “For both our sakes.” The secrecy the Thunderbirds operated under was there for a reason, as it was for  Spectrum. The colonel might press her for details, to try and discover the identity of their mysterious allies, but if he never said her name nor she his, she could  say “He didn’t tell me” without lying.

She knew in her heart nothing could come of this. Maybe once, years ago, when they were both just out of college, in the Air Force, flying fighter jets. When they were just Esther and Scott. Before his father found out about them and reminded Scott of  his duty. To him, to his family, to his father’s secret project (which she now had a pretty good idea of, but hadn’t had a clue at the time).

So they separated, her to her squadron and then onwards to Spectrum, and he to family. She couldn’t be that woman, or more accurately, she couldn’t be the woman that she had thought he needed. The kind of woman who lived in the shadows, maybe occasionally appearing at parties or similar occasions. She couldn’t be a Tracy that she thought they wanted.

Maybe she didn’t love Scott enough; maybe he loved her enough to let her go. She didn’t know.

They had this short moment now, maybe an hour, before Destiny would come looking for her, and his father would wonder why he hadn’t returned from a mission that  turned out  not to need Thunderbirds  aid.

She wished it could be different, but it couldn’t be. They both had their duty. And as every pilot knew, ‘Duty’ could be a very ugly word.

“Hmmm,” Harmony said, leaning back. “And here I thought you were going to mention the time you and Scott Tracy had sex in the aircraft hangar as the jets were coming in. Guess that the back of Thunderbird One kinda puts paid to that.”

Melody flushed, remembering that. Early on in their relationship, she hadn’t seen Scott for nearly four weeks, and it hadn’t so much being daring or courage that led to that little escapade, but lust and desperation. They had been caught, of course,  and the whole thing had become a legend in its own right among pilots. She had told Harmony about it, one Christmas Eve when they were alone on duty and talking about lost loves, but the expression on the other Angels faces suggested that Harmony had never mentioned it before, for which she was grateful. It was going to be embarrassing enough in the morning when they all had relaxed, and slept and realised what they’d said and done. They knew she’d dated Scott Tracy, just as they all knew about Destiny and Scarlet. They were friends. They told each other things.  “Guess it does.”

 “Whatever happened with you two, anyway?” Rhapsody’s tone was casual, but her curiosity couldn’t be ignored.  “One minute you were talking about engagement rings, the next he’s gone.”

Biting down on her lip, Melody Angel shrugged. “We both got transferred,” she simply said, hoping that no one would ask why her eyes were suddenly shining with unshed tears.

 

Author’s Notes:

This is a slightly random piece that came to me months ago, but got lost in site updates. For canon and accuracy, I see Melody as being about 29 (same age as Destiny) in this, and Scott 30, as he is in the original show.

For anyone worried about the likelihood of this conversation taking place, I will vouch that having being this exhausted, it can make you behave like you are drunk, including confessing to things you wished you’d kept quiet. And it is very embarrassing when everyone winds down enough to sleep, and remembers it the next morning.

 Thanks to the Beta Panel as ever, particularly for information about different Thunderbirds out there. Being ignorant about cars and planes in general, I had only heard of the Thunderbird car (and didn’t make the connection until someone pointed it out) and had never heard of the US airplane.  I have no idea why you guys put up with me, I’m just grateful that you do.

I own nothing, just the words I typed.