It was Lucy who gave a 4 year old Scott his next mission at Christmas time. This one was far simpler for the youngster, who was slightly too happy after eating so many sweets his loving grandmother had offered. He had to travel to the moon to deliver two steaming mugs of hot chocolate to a heroic captain who often ventured out and into the black unknowns of space, and his young, tiny, but captivated accomplice.
Scott was older now, which meant he could no longer afford to "make rookie mistakes" when traveling on his mission to deliver the hot chocolates. Of course, nobody had said this to him, but Scott felt compelled to get this mission completed smoothly, without error. He'd been given a brand new ship as well - what better way than to break her in than to travel to the moon?

Scott sat at the drawing table while the deliveries were being prepared, and so with that in mind, he began to draw out the route he would take. The paper seemed so perfectly white against the harsh ice blue colour flowing effortlessly out of the felt-tip pen, and Scott found this perfect as he mapped out the route from memory onto the sheet he would use as his navigation system. A turn this way, through the doors in that direction... it seemed perfect. Another solo mission Scott was preparing himself to go on, another mission the brave, courageous pilot would tackle for perhaps another chocolate biscuit and a slice of non-alcoholic Christmas cake.

At long last his mother arrived with the goods Scott required for the delivery to the moon. Lucy carefully set the mugs down next to her son, peering over his shoulder to inspect what the young pilot was doing. The page marked "Map" had scribbles of what appeared to be rooms, and a clear ice blue line - his route to the moon. Lucy smiled at the funny markings on the paper and carefully tucked his new ship into Scott's chest pocket on his shirt. This meant Scott was ready to go, and with a confident stand, Scott carefully balanced the two steaming mugs of hot chocolate, and his navigation system, and began his journey to the moon.

The route Scott took led him around the twinkling Christmas tree, which sparkled like a thousand million stars in the night. The light from the tree danced around the dimly lit room, and Scott 'soared' on, with the mugs tightly secured in his hands, navigation system in eye's view, and his new ship safely stowed in his pocket.
He ventured around the lower floor of the house - his sky - taking no wrong turns as he followed the navigation system right down to the last pen line.

At last, Scott was nearing the moon. He could already hear the soft murmurs coming from beyond, the deep yet calming tone from his heroic father, and the tiny, inquisitive chirps of noise from his ginger haired little brother, who was only 2 years old. His heart, no matter how tiny it still was, seemed to swell with pride at hearing his little brother, even when he was this tiny Scott could tell that little John was in love with the stars. The moon really was just the conservatory at the back of the house, but somehow it felt far closer to the stars than the rest of the house did.

Stepping through the glass threshold, Scott knew the mission he was sent of was coming to an end. He didn't fail to grin when his dear father and little brother turning around to look at him, and handed his father the two drinks so he could sit with them.
While his father helped little John nurse his own hot chocolate, Scott sat down and leaned into his father, looking up at the stars to listen in on one of the many exciting stories.

This mission truly had been a massive success.