Well, after a seemingly endless break, we're finally getting our new episodes! So, in anticipation of my plot bunnies going into hyper-hop mode (anyone who's seen the extended trailer will know what I mean!) here's a quick little tale on what's always been a bit of an obsession. Yes, Scott and those amazing dimples!

Of course, he's also the only one who has them, but... well, little Alan's decided he wants some too. Luckily, The Dimpled One is on hand to... um... give him some pointers.

Enjoy!

Chin Up!

Three strides past his youngest brother's bedroom, Scott stopped in his tracks. Frowned, rubbed his eyes, then back-stepped to that irresistibly open doorway. For so many reasons - yes, what he'd just seen was definitely worth a second look.

Standing in front of his mirror, Alan was peering at his reflection with an unnatural depth of interest. Tilting his head up, then down, then side to side. Kinda like he'd done when he'd found Virgil shaving and, to his brother's great amusement, tried to do the same.

All well and good for his teenage brother, of course. Rather less so for an eight year old whose first faceful of bunny fluff was still far in his future.

Luckily, there was no foam-fight to clear up this time. Good thing, too, because the damn stuff just went everywhere! Mostly on him, of course, because - well, yes, a big brother who'd so stupidly come to see what all the noise was about had also made such an obvious target.

Back to the here and now, though, and... yep, something was definitely up. And as big brother to beat all big brothers, Scott felt it was his sworn duty and right to find out what it was.

Still smiling, he padded across to where Alan was still engrossed in his reflection. Looping his arms around his brother's shoulders, he did what big brothers the world over did best.

"Yeah, Shortstop... you're still as cute and adorable as ever, and... hey, you've grown too! A whole inch since this morning!"

*thoomp*

Oookay, rule one of teasing your littlest brother. Make sure your ribs aren't in range of any retaliatory elbows.

Filing this point away for future reference, Scott then grinned at the half hearted attempt to swat him away. Yes, whacked ribs regardless, being the biggest big brother sure had its advantages - especially when it came to headlocking a pint sized eight year old into an inescapable tickle hug. By the time he'd tagged on the mother of hair ruffles - yes, his ribs were truly avenged, and little brother was irrefutably back in his place.

For the winner, victory came with a deepening grin. Oh yes, that was the best thing about being a big brother. You got to make up your own rights and privileges. You had the power to let your humble subjects know who ruled this island kingdom. And even more so when today's little rebel was also just the right height to act as your very own, personal chin-rest.

For said chin-rest, of course, it wasn't quite so beneficial. Still, a hug was a hug. And when it came from the best big brother in the world - well, yes, even the most put upon little brother in the world could still put up with its downsides. In this case, his hair being fingered into pigtails, and more playful teasing.

"So, aside from reminding us how cute you are, what'cha doing?"

Tilting his head back against Scott's chest, Alan stared up at him with all the seriousness that an eight year old thought he deserved. He wasn't doing anything wrong, he knew that - just doing what Gordon had told him to. Feeling kinda silly about it, too, but... well, Scott was here now. And the big brother who knew everything would surely have some better advice than what his other brother had suggested.

"Tryin' to grow my own dimples," he shrugged, kindly demonstrating the rest to a brother who, for some odd reason, was finding it hard to believe him. "Gordon said if I suck my cheeks in real hard, like this, I'll get dimples as neat as yours!"

Still watching this masterclass in dimple-ization, the ones in Scott's cheeks grew even deeper. Not so much from laughter, but his heroic attempts to suppress it.

Ye-ah. Rule two for this particular morning. When you find him, remind your second youngest brother that hero-worshipping eight year olds really did take things just much too literally.

For now, though, he had to find a way to set the record straight against two tricky outcomes - helpless laughter, and the hurt that it would unintentionally cause. Well, years of practice in self-control would take care of that first part. And stroking back that ever-tousled fringe, something he knew Alan had always loved, would hopefully negate the second.

"Well, Allie, you... um, can't really grow dimples... they're just, you know, just something you're born with."

To him, of course, a perfectly reasonable, and gentlest answer. But to an eight year old who questioned and challenged everything... hmmm, not so much.

"Not even if I suck 'em in really, really hard? Like this? And do it all day, like Gordon said I should?"

Again forced to do the same, Scott breathed out a silent 'Oh, boy.' In terms of razzing the family baby, the family joker was clearly in an especially evil mood today, and... yes, the topics for that big-brother-to-little-brother chat were increasing by the minute.

He was also now sensing how much his youngest brother wanted those dimples. But as he now had to try and explain, there were times when wanting something so badly just wasn't going to happen. So yes, as a warm up for that talk he'd be having with Gordon afterwards, time for him and this little brother to have a serious chat.

"No, Allie, that won't do it either," he said at last, still with that gentlest of smiles as those chipmunk cheeks puffed back out again into a heart-melting pout. "I'm real sorry, buddy, but if you do that, it's just going to make your face hurt."

Met with telling silence, he softly kissed the top of Alan's head. Used his nose to playfully ruffle his brother's hair. Then, when that didn't work, gently stroked the top of Alan's cheeks.

"But, see, you've got freckles. And when you've got dark hair, like mine, or Virgil's... well, you don't get them. And when I was your age, I really wanted freckles."

Already on a fine line between comforting his little brother, and humouring him just a bit too much, Scott knew he'd strayed over on it long before Alan frowned up at him. If he'd been an eight year old, and heard that kind of tone treating him like he was still a toddler - yeah, he wouldn't look too impressed either.

"Gordon's got freckles too... so did John, before... you know, before he got all old and grown up."

About to point out that such reasoning made him even older, Scott then thought better of it. After what he'd just said - well, yeah, he'd kinda had that one coming. So instead, still smiling, he nudged them both towards the bed behind them. Stretching out on top of it, he waited for Alan to snuggle himself into his side, before wrapping him into a double-armed hug, resting his chin back on top of his brother's head.

He was all serious now, in full big brother mode. There was more to all this talk of dimples than just childhood envy. No, his baby brother was genuinely upset and unsettled, and... well, yes, he already had a fair idea why.

So, then, no more jokes, or fooling around. Time to do what big brother did best.

Nice and comfily, though. All tucked up in what his brothers called 'the Scotty Special.' For comfort, reassurance, or just the simple pleasure of snuggling, there really was nothing like it. No better way to let you know you were safe, that everything was going to be okay. Or, such as now, to coax out the mostly deeply hidden troubles.

"Well, that's because they've both got kinds of red hair," he said at last, ruefully wishing he'd paid more attention to that section in science class.

Of course, having all those girls staring at him had made that pretty hard, and... hey, what was he talking about again? Oh, yeah. The very things that had made them all so smitten and giggly in the first place.

"It's genetics, Allie... those things you just get when you're born, or when you're growing up... like John's red hair, the freckles that you and Gordy have... or my dimples."

All true, of course, and not a bad stab at Genetics 101. But then a tellingly small voice told him it still hadn't quite been enough.

"I - I just wanna be special, Scott... you know, like real tall, like you, or real smart, like John..."

Aaaah - there it was. That stage of growing up that, when you were eight years old, just dragged and dragged so badly. When you wanted to grow up so fast to be like your big brothers that it hurt.

For the eldest brother who'd seen it all before, three times over, it was as painful to face now as it had been then. Luckily, those past three times had allowed him to get the reply of consoling reassurance down to a fine art.

Scott also knew this would be the last time he'd be making it. Alan was growing up so fast, he could barely keep up with him. Another part of his own rite of passage that he'd deal with through the privacy of his own mind. Right now, though, every part of his attention was focussed on his youngest brother.

"Hey, you listen to me... you are special... you're special already, kiddo, and you know why? Because you're the only Alan Tracy in the world... you're already unique, and you don't need red hair, or freckles, or dimples, or anything else to make you more special than you already are, just as you are, right now... and to Dad, and Grandma, and me, and John, and Virgil, and Gordon, you're the most special person on the planet... okay?"

Rewarded by the trace of a smile, Scott returned it with another, 'big-brother's-here' hug. Another kiss on top of Alan's head that just made everything all right again.

Well, almost.

As Alan curled up against him, Scott realized how much he'd missed these brotherly snuggles. As much as he loved his cadet training, each stint away from home was as hard on him as every one before it, and... aaah. Yes, another reason why Alan was holding so tightly onto him slipped into place.

All through that week, his littlest brother had followed him around like a shadow. In two days time, he'd be leaving again, and... yes, Scott had even more reason now, for tightening his arms around him, and to softly kiss his brother's forehead. Leaving, for him, was never easy. For his brothers, and for Alan especially, Scott knew it would be even harder.

"I - I miss you, Scott."

Aaaand - damn it! Those three words that never failed to make him wince. That filled him with fears, and doubts that privately plagued him. Realization that when he was called upon to leave here - his home, his family - to serve his country, it would be the hardest thing he'd ever have to do.

Still, if he really wanted to live his dreams, and join the Air Force, Scott knew he didn't have any choice. That painful reality was out of his hands. All he could do was to tell his brothers, this baby brother right here, that he missed them too. And, as he always did, just hope that Alan wouldn't hear that telltale crack in his voice.

"I miss you too, kiddo... I really do, but... hey, this is my last semester... I'll be home again in six weeks time... and, you know, I'll be home again before you know it. Those six weeks'll... you know... fly by."

They would, too. Gordon-worthy pun or not, these weeks would pass so thankfully fast. Of course, once he fully enlisted and received his first posting, Scott knew there'd be far longer absences for them to face than just six short weeks, but... well, he'd cross that bridge when he reached it. Right now, it was just him, his baby brother - and the shared comfort of this moment.

Helped along by another 'Scotty Special' and the same degree of hero-worshipping belief, Alan finally grinned back at him. A broad, happy, dimple-less grin that told his big brother all he wanted to know.

Winking back at him, Scott held him closer for an even snugglier hug. Yes, that would do it. Now he could enjoy the rest of this week home. Cherish every second of this precious time with his brothers, and leave them in the happy knowledge that his baby brother would be happy too.

At least, that was how he saw it. But a combination of time, genetics, cosmic karma, and probably a fair dash of eight year old stubbornness had other ideas.

As he guided ST1 along the runway towards her hangar, Scott smiled. Aah, the usual 'welcome home' party, waiting to meet him. Four hands, waving eagerly back at him, followed by the traditional rush to get to ST1's gantry.

With the benefit of youth and speed, Alan reached that coveted spot first, all ready to hug him home the second he stepped through ST1's hatch, and -

"Scott! Scotty, look! My chin's grown a dimple! Just like Virgil's... see?!"

With a faceful of little brother right in front of his, Scott didn't have much choice. Still, he couldn't help but smile, then laugh, at the pure joy which those bright eyes and ecstatic grin conveyed. Because, yes, it was definitely there - a shallow but unmistakable dink in his youngest brother's chin.

Still pretty small, of course. Tiny in comparison to the chasms in his own cheeks, or the singular version that Virgil had. But in this battle of brotherly chins, Alan was clearly determined to win. And as his rival was about to discover, he had just the means to do it.

Turning to Virgil, he then threw out a coup de grace that left one brother too puzzled to argue, and another too helpless with laughter to care.

"And I've got freckles!"