I was thinking the same thing myself, and thought … why not?
And here’s a little fic behind it. As well as a quick sketch.
“Can’t I have a sweater or something?” Virgil grumbled.
Penny rolled her eyes and ticked off the names of the contestants on the clipboard.
“No,” she replied rather curtly, “and stop complaining, you Tracy’s are spoiled rotten on that island of yours. It’s about time you toughened up a little. And Scotland is the perfect place.”
“Perfect alright, it never stops raining up here and I’m feeling a draft …. you know.”
He swivelled his hips to make a point, and wished he hadn’t, because by golly, it suddenly felt rather chilly … under there. And he swore he was getting goosebumps on top of goosebumps.
“It shouldn’t be long,” Penny said rather primly, “you’re up next, tossing the caber.”
“Why not? It’s a tradition going back many centuries, Virgil. And you do have the *ahem* perfect physique for it.”
As much as she loved Gordon, she couldn’t help running an appraising eye over his brother’s bulky torso. Who wouldn’t? He was built like a rugby player and with that, he had the perfect strength to haul the caber at this, the annual Highland Games style charity event.
“But … why … me?”
“Your father was a great advocate for charity events , don’t you think you should continue the tradition? I’m sure he’d be proud of you. ”