This was for the prompt: 'Scott and Virgil and kids at Christmas'

"Would you want one of these, one day?" Virgil asked.

Scott peered at him in the dim light. Though only sitting against the opposite wall, Virgil's features were difficult to make out. Scott gave a one shouldered shrug in response, being careful not to disturb anyone.

"Weird." Said Virgil "I always thought you would make a great dad."

They had been trapped in this room for nearly eight hours now. A combination of high winds and acid rain had meant it wasn't safe to take off. The flash flood made it impossible to leave the room. Damage to this mining complex's communications array made Thunderbird Five indecipherable due to static, at least until the storm passed. It had been a crazy day, not the normal Tuesday.

The only place to seek refuge had been this cramped supply closet. Okay it was large as supply closets went, but still far too small for six people, even small people. Far from the best place to spend the night, let alone this particular night.

"I haven't really thought about it." lied Scott.

"Sure." Scoffed Virgil.

It would have been alright if it was just the two of them - well not alright: it was always tough to be on a callout on the important days – but they could manage. It came with the job and no-one took a missed birthday or anniversary personally. It was the kids that Scott felt sorry for.

They had managed to evacuate all of the miners before the storm swept in, but the children had been holed up in their school room across the camp. Scott and Virgil had barely made it to them before the weather got too bad and there was no way to get them out.

To their credit they had been very brave: comforted by the soothing tones of confident adults who never let their own fear show. Virgil and Scott had been hard pressed to distract them though.

Tonight they should have been in the main compound with their families, putting the finishing touches to the Christmas tree. They should have put out stockings and a plate of mince pies for Santa (plus carrots for the reindeer). There should have been hot chocolate while wrapped in blankets and watching The Muppets Christmas Carol.

That was Christmas Eve, not this: stuck in their school store room with two strangers.

When Scott and Virgil realised they were going to be taking up temporary residence they set to wearing out the four energetic ten-year-olds as quickly as possible. They raided the school supplies without compunction and the room was now full of pictures, Christmas lists, paper chains, garlands, paper snowflakes and origami stars. They used every craft and game in their arsenal to fill the time and stop them all dwelling on what a shit Christmas Eve this had turned out to be.

When the wind had picked up further Scot and Virgil had told the children that it would be most fun –meaning safe – to camp in this small room with no windows. Now they were both trapped with one child sleeping on each side using their legs as a pillow, blankets wrapped tight. Scott couldn't blame them for taking what comfort they could despite the absence of their parents.

"What?"

"You're Scott Tracy, you plan everything. Of course you've at least considered it." Virgil said.

Scott frowned. "Hey, there's nothing wrong with being prepared and I seldom hear you complaining when I've bought along just he piece of gear we need."

"Then what do you think?" Virgil nodded at the forms sleeping on them. "Do you want a family of your own?"

"Well, in theory yes, but practically is a whole different ball game."

"Why?"

"For one thing we are spending Christmas Eve holed up half way around the world from home, and will do to well into Christmas Day. It takes a pretty special person to be prepared to put up with that sort of crap."

"Special people do exist though." Virgil countered, ever the optimist.

"Sure, but first I have to find them, and to find them I have to talk to more than just people I happen to be rescuing at that moment."

"So take a day off. Go to a club – I'd make a great wingman."

"That's not really my scene." Scott scrunched up his face in distaste.

"Stop seeing problems! We're solutions people."

Scott gave a deep sigh.

"I don't think I could do that to someone, do that to those hypothetical kids."

"Do what?" Virgil asked.

"Make them sit and wait every time. We get a taste of it sure, but for every mission, every rescue, they would be sitting at home wondering if this was the time that we were too daring. If this time the problem was too big. If this time someone wasn't coming home."

Scott had often wondered if they would be in this line of work if Mom were still alive. Would she be sitting at home right now, checking and rechecking the equipment, waiting anxiously for them to get back in touch? Maybe she would be pacing – she was always full of energy so Scott didn't know if she could sit and wait. Or maybe she was doing something – cleaning, cooking, painting – anything to fill her hands while her thoughts were far away.

"Or they could be sitting there thinking how proud they are." Virgil was saying. "I'm not going to say I'm not worried when one of you guys is out there without me, it makes me feel sick I'm so scared for you. But that's nothing compared to the look on people's faces when we get them out of trouble. Think of what these guys parents are going to look like when we get out of here."

"Yeah, that's the reason I do it, but that's not good enough to put someone else through it." Scott told him.

"Thing is Scott, you don't necessarily get to make that choice for someone. If I manage to get you off the island long enough to run into this special person you don't get to decide how much they can cope with."

Scott thought about that, really thought about what it would be like to raise children on the island. They'd learn to walk along the beaches. He would need to put in guard rails around the pool until Gordon taught them to swim. Maybe John could home school them for a bit - because he was by far the best teacher – just until they were old enough to spend some time away. Not that he would want them to go to boarding school as such but they didn't exactly live in any school's catchment area and he would want them to have meet other kids. He would teach them to fly, of course, in one of the light aircraft they kept for when a Thunderbird would be overkill. They'd spend time baking with Grandma and drawing pictures of the rain forest. Kayo would tell them stories about hero's and villains, Virgil teach them the piano, Alan would game with them and Brains would probably make a robotic pet.

In all his musing – now or before – it never occurred to Scott that neither he nor his family would be living anywhere but the island.

"I'll tell you one thing, no child of mine will be joining International Rescue." Scott said gruffly.

Virgil laughed, being sure to keep it low and quiet. "That will be another thing that you don't get to decide. But I'm glad we've moved on from 'it'll never happen' though."

Maybe Mom wouldn't have been waiting at home. Maybe she would have been out with them. She never once asked someone else for a favour she wasn't prepared to do in return: maybe this would have been no different. Part of Scott knew that his memories were coloured through the lenses of childhood, time and the firm belief that he had the best Mom ever. But the other part believed that his Mom would be as fearless in the face of natural disasters as she was fighting for the last of that year's must-have toy.

Yeah, his Mom would have made a great Thunderbird pilot. Scott felt a smile spread across his face at the thought. Virgil looked puzzled, not knowing where Scott's musings had taken him.

"What about you? See a family in your future?" Scott asked his little brother.

"Yep." Virgil grinned. "A whole football team's worth."

"And maybe that's something you don't get to decide" Scott chuckled.

"Probably." Virgil agreed without any less humour.

"Then maybe we should go out together at some point – meet some people who aren't scared to death for a change."

Before Virgil could answer a high pitched beep started to emanate from Scott's wrist. He moved to silence it as quickly as he could, but one of the children still woke slightly, muttered, and then snuggled in closer.

It was always a challenge to keep up with who was in which time zone. John could tell you who had recently eaten, who had slept or who was three days younger than they should be because they'd crossed the International Date Line too often without even looking up from his coffee. Scott couldn't do any of those things and had a hard time keeping straight where was day and where was night, so he kept his watch set to island time – a small anchor to home.

The beep could only mean one thing – back on a small friendly island in the middle of a large uncaring ocean it was midnight. It was Christmas day.

Everyone might be fast asleep right now, the turning of the day going unnoticed. As Thunderbird Two was still mid-mission they were probably still awake and exchanging the first greeting and hugs of the day, John giving his virtually for now. Scott wasn't about to let thousands of miles get in the way of joining in.

"Happy Christmas Virgil. Not how I wanted to start the day."

"Happy Christmas Scott. Be neither, but " Virgil looked down fondly at the sleeping forms that were pinning him down. "It could be worse."