Disclaimer: I don't own Thunderbirds.

IRRelief fic, using darkestwolfx's prompt "Any characters – trapped in a lift/elevator"

"Stop laughing."

Scott sounded tired, frustrated, and just about ready to throttle the nearest unfortunate brother – who just so happened to be him – but that didn't stop Gordon cackling loudly at his eldest brother's misfortune.

International Rescue had the best rescue gear in the world. International Rescue had access to some of the best technology in the world. International Rescue currently had one of their operatives trapped in a lift and no-one could figure out how to get him out.

Not that Gordon was trying particularly hard, he had to admit. If the situation was different, then of course he'd be donning his Rescue Mode and trying to work out the fastest and most efficient method of extraction. But they weren't on a rescue, they weren't even on the mainland – any mainland – and Scott didn't need to be anywhere in a hurry, so Gordon felt quite justified in cackling at his brother's current situation.

It wasn't every day Scott got stuck in his own launch chute, after all. Luckily, he was returning from a rescue, not the other way around, so there was no real urgency to get him out. There was the concern that if Thunderbird One's launch chute was malfunctioning then it would need a complete service before anyone stepped foot in it, and Scott would have to take the long way down to the hangar until it was deemed fit to use again (complete with pulling on his spare uniform by hand, which Gordon did not envy), but that was a concern for later.

Mostly because Scott was still inside, Brains was at a conference the other side of the world with Moffie, and Virgil was still in the air with an ETA of another hour. Kayo was off doing Kayo-things who knew where, Grandma was still unaware in the kitchen as she conjured up another inedible horror, Alan was with Virgil and John was off-planet.

John and EOS had tried to remotely fix the chute, but it quickly became apparent that it was a mechanical issue, and therefore nothing that could be done by remote control wizardry. An ion wrench was probably the tool for the job, and even if Gordon didn't have a ban on touching Virgil's tools (and no-one went near Brains' without strictest supervision), fixing errant launch tubes was rather different to repairs on a submarine.

Hey, they all had their specialities. Gordon's just happened to be not this.

So, really, there was nothing for Gordon to do except sit and laugh as Scott growled at him from the other side of the false wall. He'd even offered to stream Into The Unknown to Scott's comm to relieve his boredom until Virgil got back, but that had been rejected.

Virgil had been alerted to the situation, at least. He'd told Scott that he was hurrying back and had got an irritated snipe at the sluggish speed of Thunderbird Two in response. Not Scott's smartest move – a private message to Gordon had informed him that if Scott was going to be like that then he could wait because Virgil was certainly not going to push his beautiful 'bird for the sake of an ungrateful brother who was at no risk of harm except to his ego.

Hence the hour ETA.

Scott was too smart to not realise that was not Two's top speed, but no apologies had come out from the chute – Gordon knew those would come later, once he was free and no longer stressed out from being trapped in a small area for who-knew-how-long. Scott wasn't claustrophobic, not by any means, but there was always something about being stuck in a place with no way out that got to people.

They'd all done enough cave-in rescues or similar to know that one.

That was why Gordon was laughing. It might annoy the heck out of his brother, but as long as he could hear a voice, Scott knew he wasn't alone, hadn't been left there. Gordon might not be able to get Scott out, but he could make sure he knew he hadn't been forgotten.

Oh, Scott would never thank him for it, of course. Scott had a heavy dislike for being mocked, and there were other ways he could have made his continuous presence know – his usual methods of calming rescuees on missions, light-hearted banter and stories – but hey, he was a younger brother. He had a duty to be irritating sometimes.

"Gordon, your Ed impression is not helping."

Gordon stopped laughing immediately, squinting at the (currently not) swivelling fake wall between him and Scott.

"Did you just make a Lion King reference?" he demanded. He knew Scott liked pre-millennium movies, and the Lion King, despite its lack of anything space or plane related, had always been a family favourite. They'd seen it several times on family movie nights.

Was it his imagination, or was the answering silence a little apprehensive? "Scoooooootty."

Silence continued to answer him, and a hyena-like grin slowly spread across his face.

"Iiiiiii'm gonna be a mighty king," he started, leaning his back against the wall just next to the rotating section. "So enemies beware!"

"Gordon," Scott complained. He just laughed.

"Come on, Scott," he encouraged, before singing the lines again.

"No."

"You can do Simba's part instead?" he offered.

"No."

"Scoooooott."

"No."

Well, if he wanted to be a spoilsport…

"I'm gonna be a mighty king," he repeated again. "So enemies beware!" Then he deepened his voice. "Well, I've never seen a king of beasts with quite so little hair!" Too deep. Ah well.

"I'm gonna be the main event, like no king was before! I'm brushin' up on lookin' down; I'm workin' on my ROAR!"

Still silence from the chute, so he cleared his throat and tried another pitch.

"Thus far, a rather uninspiring thing."

That was better.

"Oh, I just can't wait to be king!"

Ah, now this was going to get a little tricky solo. He cleared his throat again.

"You've rather a long way to, young master, if you think- No-one sayin' 'do this'-"

"Now when I said that…" Scott's voice finally broke through the sullen silence the other side of the wall and Gordon allowed himself a victory punch. He knew Scott wouldn't be able to stay silent the whole time. Little brother's intuition. He lifted his voice higher for Nala's line.

"No-one sayin' 'be there'!"

"What I meant was…" It sounded rather like Scott was taking out his exasperation through Zazu. Well, it was in character.

"No-one sayin' 'stop that'!"

"What you don't realise…" Gordon hoped John was recording this. Oh who was he kidding, of course he was.

"No-one sayin' 'see here'!"

"Now see here!" That sounded familiar.

"Free to run around aa-all day!"

"Well, that's definitely out."

"Free to do it aall myyyyy waaayyyy!" Gordon finished the section with a blemish, and quietened, waiting. Question and answer phrases were one thing, but there was no guarantee that Scott would continue into the next section.

Big brother didn't disappoint.

"I think it's time that you and I arranged a heart to heart."

Gordon's hyena-grin settled into something more genuinely pleased as he picked up the answer, tapping lightly on the false wall for emphasis.

"Kings don't need advice from little hornbills for a start!"

"If this is where the monarchy is headed count me out!" Scott barked, answering knocks in time with the words. "Out of service, out of Africa, I wouldn't hang about! This child is getting wildly out of wiiing!" Scott was no Virgil – none of them were – but he could hold a tune when he put his mind to it. With nothing else to do except knock on his side of the wall to emphasis certain words (and Gordon was fairly sure the 'child' he was actually thinking of was not a certain fictional lion cub, but maybe an annoying but lovable squid instead), now was a perfect time to put his mind to it.

"Oh I just can't wait to be king!" Gordon replied. "Everybody look left! Everybody look right!" He whipped his head around, even though there was no-one there to- oh, hello John! He gave his older brother a cheeky wave, and got an eyeroll for his trouble although the spaceman stayed mercifully quiet. "Everywhere you look I'm, standing in spotlight!"

"Not. Yet." Scott answered, biting it out in a perfectly-Zazu fashion, and Gordon grinned triumphantly at John before launching into the choral line. To his absolute delight, Scott joined in.

"Let every creature go for broke and sing! Let's hear it in the herd and on the wing! It's gonna be King Simba's finest fling!"

"Oh I just can't waaaaaaiiiit… to be kiiiiiiiing!" Gordon finished with a flourish. In front of him, John shook his head and vanished, maybe to report to Virgil. Or maybe to explain to Grandma what her grandsons were doing.

"Are you satisfied now?" Scott asked. He sounded a little less stressed, which Gordon counted as a win, especially as the entire operation had taken less than five minutes, and Thunderbird Two was still nowhere near landing.

Fifty-five more minutes to fill before Virgil and his ion wrench came to the rescue.

"No way, Scotty," he drawled, settling back against the wall again and ignoring the murderous silence. "What next?"

"No."

So it was back to that was it?

"Hakuna Matata," he drawled, and heard a sigh of resignation behind him. "What a wonderful thing."

By the time Virgil finally arrived an hour later, freshly showered and clearly in no hurry to rescue their brother, although he was dutifully carrying his toolbox, Gordon had dragged Scott through every movie duet he could think of and then some.

It was a dishevelled eldest brother desperately wanting a shower of his own that eventually found freedom, but a smiling one.

IRRelief is an amazing idea and bless Gumnut for coming up with it! For those that don't know, it's a collection of prompts anyone can add to and use on tumblr, with a focus on fluff, to give us something to do while we're stuck indoors. Full details are on tumblr under the tags #irrelief and #irrelief2020

Thanks for reading!
Tsari