Title: Beach Symphony

Warm Rain Series

Author: Gumnut

13 Mar 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: What can you hear?

Word count: 1467

Spoilers & warnings: Virgil/Kayo, pure fluff

Timeline: Sometime after 'Love & Sacrifice"

Author's note: For scribbles97 though it isn't really what she was looking for. I hope she enjoys it anyway. Pure fluff, pure indulgence on my part.

Disclaimer: Mine? You've got to be kidding. Money? Don't have any, don't bother.

-o-o-o-

"Close your eyes."

She did as he asked.

"Now tell me, what do you hear?"

It took a moment to sort out the sounds. Sitting on the edge of the lagoon, many of the sounds were predictable. In the distance, there was the ever present crash of waves against the cliffs on the far side of the island and on the other side of Mateo. There were birds, largely the only major occupants of the island beyond themselves.

Wind. She could hear wind. Living in the middle of the Pacific made it a familiar presence. It sighed across the sand and tangled in the underbrush, tantalising the palm leaves far above.

The lap of ripples near her feet.

His breathing.

His movement.

His smile.

No, she couldn't hear him smiling, but she knew he was.

"I hear you."

He laughed. "One track mind, Kay. Focus, love."

"Why are we doing this again?"

"Because you asked."

It was true. She had her own rituals, but they differed greatly from his, and she wanted to understand. He had been patient as she ran him through her meditative exercises. He claimed they helped him a little. This was simply him returning the favour.

"What do you hear?"

"Surf. Wind. The water. Birds."

"Listen harder."

Okay, she could do this.

"Your breathing."

She knew he was smiling again, but she concentrated harder.

Beyond the roar of the surf, there was splashing. For a moment she thought there might be something in the lagoon, but tilting her head she realised it was coming from the wrong direction.

"Gordon, in the pool." Probably still pissed at Alan. "Someone hammering?" She frowned. Oh, yes, Brains had plans this evening. "And someone singing."

Who was singing?

"Grandma sings?"

"Oh yes." His smile was in his voice. "She sings when she thinks no one is listening. She actually doesn't have that bad a voice either."

"Where is she?"

"I'm not sure, I can often hear her in the evenings. She goes for a walk after dinner. Sometimes I can hear her if the wind is just right."

"Okay, so what does all this listening lead to?"

"Keep your eyes closed." Again with the smile in his voice. "Now feel."

"Feel?"

"What can you feel?"

The wind caught her attention first. It caressed her skin, fiddled with her hair. The sand beneath her feet, where she sat. She wriggled her toes and the grains danced on her skin.

She reached out and touched the bare skin of his leg, feeling his body hair and the firm muscle beneath.

"You're getting predictable, Kay."

"I like what I feel."

She could not see or hear or feel him roll his eyes, but she knew he did it anyway.

Her hand was captured and kissed softly, his lips gentle against her skin, before he firmly deposited it back in her lap. "Concentrate."

She sighed, but smiled anyway. "Okay, I feel the wind, I feel the sand."

"What do you smell?"

"Salty air. Seaweed." She couldn't resist. "Your aftershave."

"You are a lost cause."

"No, I'm just very focussed."

"Focus on the exercise."

"I love you."

He sighed. "And I love you, too."

"You're very distracting."

"Pot. Kettle. Why do you think I usually stand out here alone?"

Now that was disquieting. "Because you need to be alone."

"Kay-"

She opened her eyes and turned to him. He was staring out at the water, one leg bent up to lean his elbow on, the other flat against the sand. Reaching out, she touched his arm, wrapping her fingers around his bicep. His t-shirt did little to hide his physique and his shorts even less. "What do you get from doing this?"

He turned to her, his brown eyes a little far off as he thought about it. "I'm part of this." He gestured around him. "We can't exist outside of our environment. Being here, being so isolated, it...we are so far away from the noise of civilisation, the impact of humanity...here I can connect to the world around me. In there..." He pointed to the mountains hiding the hangers and the 'birds. "In there, is a pinnacle of human technology. Out here...is the root."

"And it's quiet."

"And it is quiet."

It was quiet for the next few moments. She shuffled up next to him and leant her head on his shoulder. He returned to staring out at the water.

She was first to break the silence. "What do you hear?"

His chest drew in a breath and held it.

Exhale.

"Wind on the water. Surf on the rocks. Fish in the lagoon. The creaking of the palm trees. Gordon is out of the pool and yelling at Alan again. Grandma has stopped singing and gone inside. John is talking to Scott. Brains is..." He frowned. "...also talking to Scott." A sigh. Their evening was likely to be ruined shortly. But he tilted his head. "The sea eagles are feeding their children. The terns are fishing for crabs. We have a visiting albatross again. The tide is turning and there will likely be a storm tomorrow." He smiled. "And you are wearing the perfume I bought you for your birthday."

How? But she didn't ask, just leant in and caught his lips, wrapping her arms around him, pushing him back onto the sand. "You are amazing."

There was sand in his hair, but he was smiling, his arms enveloping her as he kissed her back. A grin. "Oh, everything feels so much better now."

She swung a leg over and straddled him. "Now, young man, you should be focussing."

"I'm distracted."

"You are distracting."

"Hmm, let me feel those lips again."

She couldn't help but oblige.

A moment later and she sat up, putting her hands on his chest. "You still haven't told me why?"

He simply looked up at her with a thoughtful expression as his eyes traced her in the evening light. "You said you liked my latest piece of music."

"Yes, it is one of your best."

"Think about the beat and listen to the ripples lapping against the shore."

She did as he asked. Her music memory wasn't fabulous, but she felt she had it in her mind. She frowned as the beat synced with the water.

He must have seen the connection on her face. "Now, the distant surf."

She held her breath.

"The wind."

Just at that moment a bird let out a mournful cry. And she had heard it before in an echoing refrain from Virgil's piano.

She opened her eyes and stared at him. "You hear music."

He actually blushed, looking away. "Well, kinda. The environment provides the elements and I interpret what I can."

"What about your painting?"

He snorted, still not looking at her. "You could say, that is when I see the music." He began fiddling with the sand beside him, picking it up and letting it drift from his fingers. Nervous fidgeting.

She caught his hand in both of hers, his thickset fingers, calloused from hard work, yet able to create so much beauty.

His eyes latched onto her hands, still not willing to look at her.

"Virgil, you are a beautiful person."

He blinked. "You're not so bad yourself."

That earned him a rib tickle, her fingers dancing under his arms and down his sides. He wriggled, ever ticklish, and retaliated, catching her smaller form and rolling her onto her back, his hand under her head as he playfully wrestled for dominance, her own t-shirt and shorts now covered in sand.

He only won because his weaponry wasn't tickling, but kissing. She found herself on her back, his body blocking out the setting sun, his lips on hers, his tongue begging entry.

She let him in and for some time there was just him.

They had to break off eventually, but he stopped only to hover above her looking down. A moment, and to her surprise he softly began to hum, then sing a melody.

She stared at him. His voice had always been gorgeous, and always brought a smile to her face, but here, almost whispered and just for her, it was magical.

There were no words, just a tune sketched out by his beautiful baritone. It was spritely, then serious, then fiery, then soft and gentle. It was backed by the sounds of the island she could now not unnotice.

Then he stopped.

Her heart almost missed a beat at the sudden absence of his voice.

"What was that?"

"That, my love, is you."

A drawn in breath. "It's not finished."

His lips curled up in the corners. "It's a work in progress."

Reaching up, she pulled him back down and kissed him until she saw stars.

-o-o-o-

FIN.