Well, folks, that's it. No more new episodes until the autumn! What is a poor, slightly obsessed TAG writer to do now?

Write some 'free-thought' one shots, that's what! Those little ideas, not based around any episodes, where my plot bunnies can roam free and... well, yes, probably a little bit wild too!

Having said that, the idea for this first story came from one of my lovely reviewers, Sailor Centauri. I really hope I've done it justice, and thanks again to Sailor for giving my bunnies such a wonderful carrot to nibble on!

Enjoy!

Making A Splash

"You know, as much as I love you guys... and, you know, I really do... there are times when being your big brother officially sucks."

Glancing up from Brains' latest schematics for the pod bay, Virgil stared for a moment. Bit back a snort of laughter, then expressed his unique idea of brotherly support as he returned to his reading.

"My heart bleeds for you, bro."

*thoomp*

Unwrapping layers of soggy towel from around his head, he was about to hurl it back. Then he realized he'd only be giving Scott the same ammunition to keep using against him. And since getting a faceful of wet flannel wasn't his idea of a fun morning, he tossed it instead into the laundry bin behind him.

Turning back to his reading, he then frowned at the pages of gobbledegook that represented Brains' latest brainwave. Of course, he was no slouch in the engineering department either, but... sheesh! All these formulae were making his head spin, and... damn it, he hadn't even had his first coffee yet.

Besides, there was far better entertainment to occupy him now. And, as usual, its name was Soggyfied Scott. Watching him squish ruefully across the kitchen, he tried again to find an air of brotherly sympathy.

"So, they got you again, huh?"

Pulling a suitable face in return, Scott tossed his latest load of soaking wet clothes into the washing machine, before pulling some blessedly dry alternatives from the piles alongside.

"Yup. One minute I was checking the barbecue for tonight, the next I'm getting my latest scores in the Tracy Olympics."

Grabbing a fresh towel, he went back to drying his hair - more mutters of discontent further muffled by layers of thick white fluff.

"You know, I'm sure Kayo's been giving them covert ops training without telling me. I just never saw 'em coming. And I'm filing an official complaint against their scores. That double twist was at least a nine point eight."

Halfway through his latest mouthful of coffee, Virgil came damn close to losing it over the table. Penance, he supposed, for letting his brother take yet another dive into the drink.

Yes, he had seen two tiny terrors with mischief in mind, lurking in wait for their victim. Yes, he could have yelled out a warning. And yes, he could tell Scott all about it, but... well, his brother was miffed enough already. And he was still within thumping range, so placing himself in the path of its wrath would be really, really dumb.

Luckily, said brother was also still lost in a headful of towelling, so hadn't seen this moment of fiendish deceit. By the time Scott's head popped out again, Virgil's face had schooled itself back into a mask of innocent empathy.

"...and why is it always me?! What, do I have this neon sign on my head, saying 'ooooh, yes, please! I just looove being chucked in the pool!'?"

'...no... right now, you have a small furry animal that looks like you've tried to electrocute it...'

"...why don't they pick on you instead? I mean, you're their big brother too, and... yeah, Virg, we've really got to find a way to share this around a bit..."

'...like hell we do... and if you dare try it, Scooter, I'll toss you in the damn thing myself.'

"...hey, did you overdo the starch again? God, these jeans feel like hardboard..."

Resigning himself to a morning where the only peace he'd get was a solo call out, Virgil put down his pad before the temptation to throw it became too hard to resist.

"Scott, you're over six foot tall, and twenty eight years old. If the Terrible Twins are bugging you that much, all you've gotta do is assert your big brother authority, and tell 'em to stop."

Quite how a six foot four inch, twenty eight year old ex fighter pilot could look like a sulky toddler... yeah, Scott Tracy had managed to find it.

"I've, uh... tried that already."

Yeah, of course he had. Virgil knew this would have been Scott's first thought to, as he'd put it, assert his authority. Out of amusement, curiosity, or just sheer sadism, though, he just had to ask why it hadn't worked.

"And?"

From either his lack of big brother authority, or uncomfortably stiff denim, Scott pulled another of his famous faces as he slid onto a neighbouring stool and poured himself a mugful of coffee.

"Well, they... uh, did pretty much what you're doing now."

Yeah, Virgil had known that all along too, and... ooooh, this was getting to be fun!

"You mean sat here and smirked?"

"Well, no. They stood over there and smirked, but... yeah, that's pretty much it."

Rolling his eyes at more splutters of laughter, Scott then narrowed them into a 'lightbulb moment' frown. Something aside from his chlorinated clothes stank around here. And the more he watched his brother, the more his suspicions were confirmed.

His whole body was shaking now, and... yup, no doubt about it. His brother was enjoying his plight just a bit too much. Almost as if he knew more about these shenanigans than he was letting on, and... damn it! That sneaky weasel!

Unseen by said weasel, a dangerous glint now crept into Scott's eyes. So, his brother thought he'd gotten away with it, did he? Well, okay. Two could play at that game. Behind a humouring smile, the plan was already forming in his mind. And as soon as Virgil set off to the hangars to work on his beloved 'bird, Scott wasted no time in putting it into motion.

All he had to do was find his two other tiny tormentors, and convince them that, no... they weren't about to get grounded. Instead, he draped an arm around each of their shoulders, and treated them to his very best smile.

"No, I'm just... you know, curious," he assured them, pasting on the poker face that had made him the best cardshark in his squadron. "I mean, you're always throwing me in the pool, and... you know, I just kinda wonder why."

Hmm. After all those years out of practice, that poker face hadn't quite worked. Still not sure of his motives, or maybe still in shock that he wasn't going to ground them until Christmas, Gordon and Alan traded glances. And as the eldest, Gordon was kindly 'volunteered' to speak for them both.

"Weeeeell, Scott, I - I really dunno..."

Aaaah, brotherly love and loyalty at its finest. And while justly proud of both, Scott wasn't ready to lose this chance of fiendish payback just yet.

"Whatever Virgil's bribed you with, I'll triple it."

Yeah, that did it. With all the pleasure of dumping their brother into the trouble they'd just avoided, Gordon and Alan started singing like two humanised canaries.

"Because Virgil told us to... he said you really liked it!"

"And because you make such a great splash!"

Aaaaand - gotcha!

"Oh, I see." Scott nodded, rubbing his chin for a bit of extra effect, before adding a perfectly weighted sigh. "Well, that's kinda weird... because Virgil told me he didn't think you were big enough to do it to him instead."

The reaction was all he'd hoped for. A nicely doubled stare of indignation, that spelled trouble in all the world's languages for its unsuspecting victim. With pot now well and truly stirred, all he had to do was sit back like one of those old movie villians, and wait for that trouble to arrive.

Luckily, he didn't have long to wait. At just past six twenty that evening, Virgil Grissom Tracy received the shock of his life.

"Hey, you two... leave some of those steaks for the rest of us, okay, and... whoa! Hey, what are you...? Hey, put me down! Put me down, right now, and... awww, noooo... no, no, no, I didn't mean in there, and... nyeeeeeeAAAARGH!"

*Kaaaaa-WHOOOSH!*

Even if it soaked him all over again, Scott didn't care. Instead, he revelled in the moment that two laughing yells made just about perfect.

"Thunderbombs are go!"

Wiping tears of laughter from his face, not to mention several gallons of pool water, Scott relaxed back on his lounger, and closed his eyes to the brotherly warfare that now erupted around him. Yes, there were times when being a big brother officially sucked. But, more often than not, there were times when it just totally rocked!