Author's note: This is not the same drabble for this prompt as the one on 30 beverages. I was unhappy with that one, and wrote this up to replace it.
Prompt 26, caffeine drinks
The airlock to Thunderbird Five opened, and a bleary-eyed John waited, bag in hand. He glared at both Alan and Scott.
"Looks like someone got up on the wrong side of the bed," Alan quipped.
John rubbed his forehead. "Don't. Just don't. I have a monstrous headache."
Scott frowned, concerned. "What's the matter? Are you sick?" He reached out to test his brother for fever, but John swatted his hand away.
"I'm not sick!" he muttered irritably.
Scott, now scowling, folded his arms. "If you're not sick, what's wrong?"
John returned the scowl. "I ran out of coffee, okay?"
What Leaves Are For
Author's note: Inspired by a prompt from live journal's fic simplicity community. Their prompt: #8, Leaf Pile.
Prompt 27, Kool-Aid
"Geronimo!" Scott got a running start , bellyflopping into the growing pile of autumn leaves. He threw some high in the air; John giggled as they fell into his blond hair.
Jeff stopped raking, shaking his head. "I'll never get this done."
"Jeff, you know what leaves are really for," Lucille said, stepping outside, carrying a pitcher of red Kool-Aid, baby Gordon perched on one hip. Virgil followed, carrying paper cups.
"Yes, I know." Jeff drank some punch, beckoning his sons to join him.
"Geronimo!" he shouted. He flopped backwards into the pile, his laughing sons falling on him in delight.
Author's note: Scene from Alias Mr. Hackenbacker, Tin-Tin's POV. I can never figure out if they're trying to say "Starlight Roof" or "Starlight Room".
Prompt 28, champagne
He was being a terrible flirt.
He suggested going to the Starlight Roof for a celebratory bite to eat. Penelope brought up the champagne. "Vintage 1993," she said, "the best year for champagne." We tacitly agreed we'd open the bottle there.
He came up behind me, looking so unlike himself in his shades and polka-dot bow tie.
"Miss Kyrano, may I escort you to the Starlight Roof?"
I smiled. "Why, certainly! I'd be delighted, Mr... Hackenbacker." I playfully pronounced his alias; the word sounded so foreign.
He blushed. "You know, you can call me... Hiram."
Such a shameless flirt!
Author's note: Lucille Tracy fic, set before her pregnancy with Alan, as some authorities have her dying while giving birth to him.
Prompt 29, diet drinks
The diet soda rests in the treadmill's cup holder. Lucille picks it up, and gulps the contents, emptying the can. Four boys have had an impact on her figure; she is determined to keep that impact marginal. After all, her husband is a highly desirable man: ex-astronaut, up-and-coming financial giant... she wants to keep him!
The door opens, unheard over the music she is listening to. Suddenly, arms wrap around her waist, pulling her from the treadmill. Warm lips nibble their way along a shoulder; her doubts dissolve like soda bubbles. He is hers, and always will be.
Author's note: Last one - author's choice. Terror in the Sky, from Tin-Tin's POV.
Prompt 30, Open up a...
We shared a bottle of red wine that momentous day. Later, we sat at the bar, chatting. He was polite, if opinionated, with a strong American accent. Nice looking, too, tanned and fit.
Then things began to happen, things that boded ill for this, the Fireflash's maiden flight. The wine turned sour in my stomach when it became terribly clear that we were in serious danger.
Yet the danger was averted. International Rescue was introduced to the world, helping Fireflash land safely, despite the bomb in its landing gear. Soon I was reunited with Father, the Tracys and especially... Alan.