The Lancer Fanfiction Archive

subglobal1 link | subglobal1 link | subglobal1 link | subglobal1 link | subglobal1 link | subglobal1 link | subglobal1 link
subglobal2 link | subglobal2 link | subglobal2 link | subglobal2 link | subglobal2 link | subglobal2 link | subglobal2 link
subglobal3 link | subglobal3 link | subglobal3 link | subglobal3 link | subglobal3 link | subglobal3 link | subglobal3 link
subglobal4 link | subglobal4 link | subglobal4 link | subglobal4 link | subglobal4 link | subglobal4 link | subglobal4 link
subglobal5 link | subglobal5 link | subglobal5 link | subglobal5 link | subglobal5 link | subglobal5 link | subglobal5 link
subglobal6 link | subglobal6 link | subglobal6 link | subglobal6 link | subglobal6 link | subglobal6 link | subglobal6 link
subglobal7 link | subglobal7 link | subglobal7 link | subglobal7 link | subglobal7 link | subglobal7 link | subglobal7 link
subglobal8 link | subglobal8 link | subglobal8 link | subglobal8 link | subglobal8 link | subglobal8 link | subglobal8 link




A Brush With Trouble

An episode tag for Legacy

Disclaimer: Let's not quibble about who owns what, there's no need for legal action as long as neither of us are making a profit over this.

Author's Note: All bolded text in the story is actual dialogue from the show and therefore the creative property of Fox and their stable of writers.

Author's note 2: We were discussing the mirror scene from Legacy when I made the statement about Scott offering Johnny the use of a brush…then Binnie went and fed that wild plot bunny a carrot and it wouldn't go away.

Warning: Never feed a wild plot bunny, they are like stray cats, once you feed them… you can't get rid of them.



~*~ L ~*~ A ~*~ N ~*~ C ~*~ E ~*~ R ~*~

Shuffle thump shuffle thump shuffle thump

Standing in front of the mirror tying his tie, Scott smiled as the sounds of his brother's steps echoed from the hallway to the Great room.  His eyes shifted from the pier glass to the entryway, true affection shone in his eyes as he watched Johnny's approach.

Shaking his head at Johnny's appearance, Scott noted his brother had obviously just gotten up from the bed.  He suspected his little brother dressed of a morning with his eyes still closed.  He often arrived at breakfast rumpled looking. Once he had eaten and had his required two cups of coffee he would rise from the table and make more of an effort to straighten his clothes.

This morning, Johnny's blue flowered shirt was slightly wrinkled; though it was tucked in, he had yet to finish buttoning it; that was sure to receive a sharp rebuke from Murdoch.  His father was adamant about neatness and while he could deal with a top button left undone, he would not be pleased to see the gap left by three open holes.  Johnny's leather pants at least looked like he had taken the time to shake the trail dust off of them.  Scott couldn't stop the slight cringe at the dirt crusted boots, currently shuffling his way. Maria will have a fit if she finds a sand trail left by Johnny's boots.

Biting his bottom lip to keep from chuckling out loud, Scott's attention was drawn to his brother's face when the youth lethargically raised a sleep shaky hand and dug crust from the corner of his eye.  The action caused him to look even younger than his nineteen years…especially since the thick mass of silky black hair was disheveled; sticking up in some spots and mashed flat in others, it was quite plain the only thing that had been run through the hair was Johnny's fingers.    

Still half asleep and his vision compromised by the presence of his index finger digging in the corner of his eye, Johnny slowly scuffed through the Great room.  He was startled into stopping by his brother's voice.


Halting his forward movement, Johnny trundled backwards until he was standing before his older brother.

“How do I look?” the blond asked, raising his arms slightly away from his body, in preparation for inspection.  Noting the devilish look now gleaming in Johnny's eyes, he thought, Well, I've asked for it now.

A wicked grin stretched across Johnny's lips, revealing his teeth which looked blindingly white in contrast to his tanned face.  Moving to lean on the mantle; nodding his head in approval as his smile grew, Johnny replied, “Elegant.” His face twitched with amusement.

Recognizing the playful tone of Johnny's voice, Scott immediately joined the fun by remarking, “I gotta agree.”

Pursing his lips, his eyes twinkling, Johnny upped the ante, “Breath taking. You are pretty.”   His lips made a slight popping sound on the p in pretty.

Sniffing with dry aplomb, Scott preened more for his brother. "You think so, huh?"

His head bobbing enthusiastically Johnny declared, “Yeah!”   He paused, his face going all soft with humor, he reached out and grabbed the end of the tie, flipping it up, and then he started to speak again, a finger gesture stopped him.

Quite aware his little brother was about to pull off a big one at his expense, Scott pointed an accusing finger at him. "Anymore cute remarks from my little brother and I'll have to teach you some manners."

Raising his hands in a defensive manner, Johnny cautioned, "You don't wanna get all wrinkled up, do you?”

“No.”   Scott picked his hairbrush up from in front of the mirror, “Speaking of wrinkled,” he grabbed Johnny's hand and smacked the brush into his palm.

Confusion marred his face as Johnny stared at the object in his hand.  “What's this for?”

Snickering, Scott exclaimed, “Ah hah! I have long suspected you didn't own one.  It's a hairbrush, little brother.”  Patting his perfectly placed hair, the blond added, “You use it to style or in your case just neaten your hair.”

“Smart ass,” Johnny growled, tossing the brush at his brother.

Catching the hairbrush midair before it could hit him, Scott remarked, “Maybe I should show you how to use one.”

Frowning, he tried his Madrid glare, but Scott had already grown immune to it. “I'll have you know, I already know how to use one.”

“Sure you do, on Barranca, he's the best groomed horse in the San Joaquin Valley,” Scott retorted, as he moved menacingly closer.

Eyes narrowing in suspicion at the threatening stance of Scott's body, Johnny scooted a step to the side and back.  He grunted in surprise when the blond lunged and caught him in a tight grip about his neck.

“All you have to do is turn the bristle side down towards your hair and pull it through,” Scott stated, breathless from the effort of trying to hold his little brother still.  He's slim but it's all muscle.

“Let me go,” Johnny protested, bucking and squirming, his flailing arms accidentally sweeping items from the mantle of the pier glass. The silver candlesticks clattered against the wood and the blue and white vase bounced but miraculously did not break. Johnny's giggles as he fought for freedom advertised his secret delight in the struggle.

“Oh no, I'm not letting you go until I tame this wild mane you call hair,” Scott vowed through clenched teeth as he tried to control the wildly fidgeting boy in his grasp.  The hairbrush was now hopelessly tangled and caught in the mop of black hair.

Realizing his older brother's height was helping him to maintain control, Johnny went dead weight, dropping to the floor and pulling Scott with him.  The brothers rolled and tumbled, turning over two of the large upholstered dining chairs.  Kicking their legs free of the furniture, they tumbled towards the blue velvet wing back chairs.

The noise of their struggle on the floor and Johnny's shrieks of laughter alerted Murdoch.  The boys were so caught up in their wrestling they didn't hear the big man's boots pounding down the stairs.

Murdoch arrived in the Great room huffing and puffing from exertion.  “LOOK OUT!” he shouted as his sons writhing bodies traveled on a collision course with the mahogany side table upon which resided an expensive green glass and crystal prism lamp.

The boys collided with the table, the lamp teetered, the prisms ringing out a merry tune as they swayed and clinked together. Plunging forward, Murdoch steadied the lamp. “ENOUGH!” he bellowed.

Crawling to safety behind his father's legs when his command startled Scott into turning him loose, Johnny sat up, smirking at his brother he stated, “Scott started it.”

Rising regally from the floor, Scott brushed his clothes off.  “I was just trying to help my little brother comb his hair.  Reaching around his father as Johnny started to stand; he snatched his brush from the tangle of Johnny's hair.

“Ouch,” Johnny exclaimed, rubbing his stinging scalp and glaring at his brother.

Planting his hands firmly on his hips, Murdoch declared, “I don't care who started it!  I'm ending it!”  He thumped his chest with a rigid finger, and then gestured around the room. “Now clean this mess up!  When you're finished, John, go straight to the kitchen and eat your breakfast, you've kept Maria waiting long enough!”  Turning on his heel the big man marched from the room before his sons could see the look of utter delight and amusement on his face over their boyish antics.

The brothers picked up the dining chairs they had knocked over, and then retrieved the candlesticks and vase, placing them back on the mantle.  Scott paused in front of the pier glass long enough to brush his hair and retied his tie as Johnny watched.

Strolling into the room with Julie on his arm, Harlan Garrett announced, “Here she is, splendid day for riding.”

Ignoring the old man who raised his hackles, Johnny greeted the lovely brunette, “Mornin', Julie.”

Speaking to his grandfather because Johnny had pointedly ignored him, Scott responded to his statement, “Indeed it is, sir.”

Snorting softly, Johnny mimicked, “Indeed.”

Casting a warning glance at his brother, urging him to behave, Scott replied, “Indeed.” Extending an arm to Julie, the couple departed, Scott stating, “I've got a lot of things to show you.”

Smiling as the couple walked away, Harlan turned to Johnny, the contempt in his voice barely concealed as he asked, “You weren't going too, were you?”

Throwing his arms up as though exasperated, Johnny replied, "No, Teresa forgot to ,” he raised his voice as he gestured towards his brother with his chin , “iron my riding pants.”




June 25, 2011


Want to comment? Email Southernfrau