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John doesn’t pay much attention to the click clack of delicately pointed heels as they descend the stone steps behind him. It’s a busy enough walkway up to the Oxford Languages block, with students coming and going frequently, and the aspiring astronaut is too well absorbed in the textbook that lies open on his lap to notice. It’s for the additional elective he’s opted to take; not many Harvard Laser Communications and Astrophysics double majors also choose to spend a semester over in England, looking over Multilingual Communicative Methodologies in their half hour lunch break. But then, Penelope supposes, frowning down at the young man’s loose posture and baggy jumper, not many students are over-achieving imbeciles called John Tracy…

She lets her shadow fall over him and her foot taps to get his attention. She coughs pointedly and delicately. Her foot taps harder. Sharp pink lips purse when he doesn’t seem to notice any of it. Penny isn’t used to being ignored. This just won’t do.
“John, darling, what on Earth happened to your hair?” That gets him to look up, she’s smug to note. The Lady Penelope grins down at him like a cat with its eyes on a canary. “Honestly,” She scoffs, and soft fingers reach out to meet his scalp, combing through the mess in a way no one else here would dare. “Did the Science Lab explode with you in it or something?”
Her Ladyship settles gracefully beside him, her slender fingers still entangled; evidently enjoying the slightly startled look on his face. Her fingers bump against the end of a plastic earpiece amid the mop and she realises that he’s got those hideous chunky plastic reading glasses of his on. The ones that, despite his internship with NASA and the pressure testing that can affect his vision, he probably doesn’t need right now. But maybe it’s a comfort thing, having them on, she supposes. Maybe… he’s almost hiding behind them. Well that just won’t do either. It’s almost despicable to Penelope that hiding from the world is what John Tracy seems to do best. No, she shakes her head to herself, we can’t be having that.
John’s Father has been friends with her Father since long before Jeff first went to space; he’s known Penny since she was a little girl with blond curly pigtails and mud on her skirts. As soon as John had arrived in England she’d decided that she could simply not stand for him remaining the only billy-no-mates at Oxford. Lord Hugh is in the process of offering up extra funding for the little search and rescue project that billionaire ex-astronaut Jeff Tracy is proposing for when the boys are old enough to run it, so she’d been instructed to play nice. It’s just that John Tracy makes it exceedingly difficult to play nice. Irritatingly difficult. Not that Penelope would ever back down from a challenge.
It’s funny though… He, John that is, almost reminds her of her own little brother. Forgets about himself… Study’s too hard… hides from the world…
“Alan’s the one who blows up schools.” John points out dryly, bringing Penny back to the present. He’s tugging at the long ginger strands that hang down in front of his eyes. It has gotten pretty long. Huh. That’s funny; he’d not even noticed. He supposes he’s just been too busy. Two bachelor degrees. Semester in England. NASA placement. John can’t remember what it’s like to not be busy.
“Remind me to book you in at a barber.” Penny’s lips purse again as she frowns at him, “Have you been sleeping, Tracy? Eating right?” He’s got sharp cheekbones and dark circles. Just like her Alexander. Blue eyes narrow. “Did you only bring that baggy old jumper with you this morning? It’s mid-Autumn Johnathon.” She scolds; convinced he’s not quite batting on a full wicket. “This isn’t your America. You’ll catch your death out here.”
John, to his credit, mostly just blinks at her; still a little startled. The hopeless boy. He’s evidently far too used to not having friends to look out for him. She is trying her damndest to do something about that or else her name isn’t Penelope Beatrice Creighton-Ward.
“You’re looking worse than those wayward vagrants you call brothers.” She points out, finally prompting a startled laugh from the young man, “I need at least one of you to maintain civility. It’s mandatory now you have been formally adopted as my friend.”
Two curved ginger eyebrows go up and Penelope is almost surprised by his surprise. Why, has she not vocalised the sentiment before? Of course she’s his friend. John, dear, she thinks, you have very little choice in the matter. The fact all her other friends are high society socialites is irrelevant. Talking handbags all day does become a bore.
“Is that why you keep bothering me?” He sounds more amused than upset, and maybe a little uncertain as to whether or not he wants hurricane Penelope as something like a friend. “I was studying, Penny.”
“Study schmudy.” She says haughtily, dragging the poor boy to his feet. “You and I are going to hit the cafeteria and you are going to tell me all about your dreadfully dull studies and I am going to sit and listen and smile in all the correct places, because that’s what friends are for.”

On Tumblr: lenle-g.tumblr.com/post/160548…

[please do not post, upload, use or pin without permissions]

Description
John doesn’t pay much attention to the click clack of delicately pointed heels as they descend the stone steps behind him. It’s a busy enough walkway up to the Oxford Languages block, with students coming and going frequently, and the aspiring astronaut is too well absorbed in the textbook that lies open on his lap to notice. It’s for the additional elective he’s opted to take; not many Harvard Laser Communications and Astrophysics double majors also choose to spend a semester over in England, looking over Multilingual Communicative Methodologies in their half hour lunch break. But then, Penelope supposes, frowning down at the young man’s loose posture and baggy jumper, not many students are over-achieving imbeciles called John Tracy…

She lets her shadow fall over him and her foot taps to get his attention. She coughs pointedly and delicately. Her foot taps harder. Sharp pink lips purse when he doesn’t seem to notice any of it. Penny isn’t used to being ignored. This just won’t do.
“John, darling, what on Earth happened to your hair?” That gets him to look up, she’s smug to note. The Lady Penelope grins down at him like a cat with its eyes on a canary. “Honestly,” She scoffs, and soft fingers reach out to meet his scalp, combing through the mess in a way no one else here would dare. “Did the Science Lab explode with you in it or something?”
Her Ladyship settles gracefully beside him, her slender fingers still entangled; evidently enjoying the slightly startled look on his face. Her fingers bump against the end of a plastic earpiece amid the mop and she realises that he’s got those hideous chunky plastic reading glasses of his on. The ones that, despite his internship with NASA and the pressure testing that can affect his vision, he probably doesn’t need right now. But maybe it’s a comfort thing, having them on, she supposes. Maybe… he’s almost hiding behind them. Well that just won’t do either. It’s almost despicable to Penelope that hiding from the world is what John Tracy seems to do best. No, she shakes her head to herself, we can’t be having that.
John’s Father has been friends with her Father since long before Jeff first went to space; he’s known Penny since she was a little girl with blond curly pigtails and mud on her skirts. As soon as John had arrived in England she’d decided that she could simply not stand for him remaining the only billy-no-mates at Oxford. Lord Hugh is in the process of offering up extra funding for the little search and rescue project that billionaire ex-astronaut Jeff Tracy is proposing for when the boys are old enough to run it, so she’d been instructed to play nice. It’s just that John Tracy makes it exceedingly difficult to play nice. Irritatingly difficult. Not that Penelope would ever back down from a challenge.
It’s funny though… He, John that is, almost reminds her of her own little brother. Forgets about himself… Study’s too hard… hides from the world…
“Alan’s the one who blows up schools.” John points out dryly, bringing Penny back to the present. He’s tugging at the long ginger strands that hang down in front of his eyes. It has gotten pretty long. Huh. That’s funny; he’d not even noticed. He supposes he’s just been too busy. Two bachelor degrees. Semester in England. NASA placement. John can’t remember what it’s like to not be busy.
“Remind me to book you in at a barber.” Penny’s lips purse again as she frowns at him, “Have you been sleeping, Tracy? Eating right?” He’s got sharp cheekbones and dark circles. Just like her Alexander. Blue eyes narrow. “Did you only bring that baggy old jumper with you this morning? It’s mid-Autumn Johnathon.” She scolds; convinced he’s not quite batting on a full wicket. “This isn’t your America. You’ll catch your death out here.”
John, to his credit, mostly just blinks at her; still a little startled. The hopeless boy. He’s evidently far too used to not having friends to look out for him. She is trying her damndest to do something about that or else her name isn’t Penelope Beatrice Creighton-Ward.
“You’re looking worse than those wayward vagrants you call brothers.” She points out, finally prompting a startled laugh from the young man, “I need at least one of you to maintain civility. It’s mandatory now you have been formally adopted as my friend.”
Two curved ginger eyebrows go up and Penelope is almost surprised by his surprise. Why, has she not vocalised the sentiment before? Of course she’s his friend. John, dear, she thinks, you have very little choice in the matter. The fact all her other friends are high society socialites is irrelevant. Talking handbags all day does become a bore.
“Is that why you keep bothering me?” He sounds more amused than upset, and maybe a little uncertain as to whether or not he wants hurricane Penelope as something like a friend. “I was studying, Penny.”
“Study schmudy.” She says haughtily, dragging the poor boy to his feet. “You and I are going to hit the cafeteria and you are going to tell me all about your dreadfully dull studies and I am going to sit and listen and smile in all the correct places, because that’s what friends are for.”

On Tumblr: lenle-g.tumblr.com/post/160548…

[please do not post, upload, use or pin without permissions]