I haven't given up on 'Nothing Lasts Forever' but when I sat down to write, this story demanded to be written instead. I've had the idea for ages and always intended to do it round about now, so here it is.

Chapter One

When Thunderbird Two touched down at 10.30pm on 15 August, Virgil had only one thought in mind - his interrupted birthday celebrations. He hadn't even opened his first gift when the call had come for the 'birds to launch. Now, several hours later, he was tired, dirty - though not quite as muddy as Alan - and more than ready to pick up where he'd left off. Though if he was honest, he was looking forward to food and cake even more than he was the pile of presents - all he'd had in the last ten hours were a couple of energy bars.

So, on entering the lounge, bracing himself for the inevitable, if affectionate, lecture from Grandma about tracking dirt across the carpet, it was a surprise to find that instead of cheerful grins and good-natured complaints about Two's slow speed meaning that everyone was starving and had only been prevented from demolishing the birthday cake by dark threats from their father and grandmother, the atmosphere was decidedly gloomy.

Even more surprising was that the source of this melancholy was clearly the brother who would have been unanimously declared as the most cheerful of the Tracy boys, should it ever have been put to a vote.

Even Alan sensed something was wrong. "What's up, Gords?" he asked, crossing the room and attempting to ruffle his brother's hair, only to be met with an irritable shove backwards.

"Nothing." The forced smile didn't convince anyone.

"Gords?" Virgil glanced at the other members of the family. They didn't look as sullen as Gordon, but there was clearly some concern in their expressions.

"I'm fine!" Gordon got to his feet, though the usual spring in his step was missing as he moved to pick up a clumsily wrapped present. "Happy Birthday."

As the rest of the family swarmed around him with their own gifts, Virgil let himself get caught up in the moment. After all, if there was something seriously wrong, someone would have told him when he landed. No, Gordon, whilst sunny and optimistic 99.9% of the time, sometimes had his moments. Maybe it was even a prank and any second now he'd swoop on an unsuspecting Virgil and do something which he would find funny but which Virgil certainly wouldn't.

Resolving to be on his guard, Virgil threw himself into the unwrapping of his gifts then dashed off to his room for a shower before the long-delayed dinner.

When he came out of the bathroom, Alan - also clean - was sprawled across his bed, flicking through the remote control of Virgil's TV.

"Make yourself at home, Al," Virgil said, pulling a drawer open in search of a favourite shirt.

"I know what's wrong with Gordon," Alan announced.

"What?"

"I should have guessed, but he didn't mention it and after the rescue call came in I must have just forgotten."

"What is it? Do the others know?"

"Yeah. Oh, here it is." Alan turned the volume up and Virgil sat down next to his brother, realisation striking him as he did so."

"I'd forgotten it was today, too."

"Guess Gords didn't want to spoil your birthday," Alan said. "Though this is going to be a memorable day for him from now on - for all the wrong reasons."

"That bad?" Virgil asked in some surprise. "When I asked him about it a while back he seemed okay."

"Oh, it's not that," Alan said. "No, he didn't have a problem with missing the Olympics - it's not like there haven't been other championships he's missed. He's been fine about giving up competitive swimming. It's not as though he doesn't have better things to do here with International Rescue. No, it's... Well, see for yourself."

Virgil watched as the commentator began listing the swimmers in the final of the 100m butterfly, the event in which, four years earlier, his brother had not only won gold, but broken the world and Olympic records. Some of the competitors in today's race had been there that day, but there were also a few new faces, men Gordon had never had the chance to compete against. One in particular was being feted as a potential great and it was this man that the commentator was now describing in the most glowing terms, recalling Gordon's short but glittering swimming career and wondering how the two would have matched up in today's race.

"No one really knows why Gordon Tracy gave up when he did," the commentator said. "But given the rise of Vladimir Petrov, maybe he was wise to quit while he was ahead."

A second commentator broke in. "You think Petrov would beat Tracy? His best time is still below Tracy's record."

"Yes, Steve, but Petrov's only twenty and his best is yet to come. I think we're going to see something special this afternoon."

Virgil could see where this was leading. He turned to Alan. "Did he-?"

"Ssh! They're about to start."

Virgil watched as the swimmers dived in and began to race. Sure enough, Petrov was victorious, surging ahead of the rest and winning easily.

The commentator was going wild:

"What a swim by Petrov! And - yes, it's confirmed, a new world and Olympic record. Look at that time, Steve. He didn't just break Gordon Tracy's record, he annihilated it."

"Gordon who?" the second man said - and it was a good thing he couldn't hear the abuse that Virgil and Alan gave him over that comment!

"Now I get it," Virgil said as Alan jabbed at the 'off' button.

"Yeah. Gordon didn't mind someone else being Olympic champion, but losing the records, that hurt."

"Maybe not as much as that guy's comment, though," Virgil said bitterly. "'Gordon who', indeed. No wonder he's not happy."

"I've never seen him so grouchy," Alan agreed. "He-"

A sharp knocking at the door interrupted him. "Virgil, are you coming to dinner? Your father's half-asleep and if I don't serve it up now we'll be eating it for breakfast."

"Coming, Grandma!"

As they walked back to the dining room, Grandma told them how she and Jeff had watched the race with Gordon. Like the brothers, she had a few choice words for the tactless commentator, though being Grandma, her feelings were expressed in a somewhat more refined manner than they had managed.

"The poor boy's not been himself, since," she said. "I had a chat with him while we were waiting for you to come home and he says he doesn't regret giving up swimming to join you all here, but I know he wishes he'd been there to defend his title."

"He'll never know if he could have beaten Petrov," Virgil said.

"Well, if Petrov could break his record..." Loyalty to his brother meant Alan didn't want to put into words the fact that Petrov probably would have beaten Gordon.

"We'll have to do what we can to cheer him up," Grandma said.

Sure enough, everyone tried, and Gordon did his best not to put a downer on Virgil's birthday party, but he clearly wasn't himself. It was a short meal given the lateness of the hour but even though everyone was tired, it still worried them when Gordon, usually the last to leave any party, was the first to announce that he was heading off to bed.

It was rare for Gordon to lapse into any kind of bad mood. For sure, a bad rescue would do it, but he was a born optimist, preferring to focus on the lives they'd saved rather than the ones they'd lost, and even if a mission had been a complete failure, he could always find something positive to take from the situation, even if it was only a suggestion as to how to improve things in the future. But this time, his miserable mood continued for several days, meaning that everyone around him, reliant on his good humour to counteract the stress of rescues, was affected too.

Even swimming, his usual release from tension, didn't help. In fact, it made things worse, an active reminder of why he was depressed in the first place. Gordon hated the way he was feeling, hated the way he'd taken the loss of his records to heart like this. He'd always told himself that records were there to be broken, and he certainly hadn't given much thought to how the man he'd replaced in the record books might feel about it, but then again, the man whose crown he'd taken had retired from competitive swimming some ten years before. Gordon, however, might have had his best years in front of him and whilst he'd been quite honest with Grandma when he told her that he didn't regret being part of International Rescue, he couldn't help feeling that maybe he should have taken up the offer his father had made him when the organisation had started up and allowed himself time to train and compete, even if it was just in a few events a year.

Alan still raced. Just occasionally and more as a hobby these days, but he still won races. Not that winning at swimming would be so easy, of course - there was a lot more training required, plus the strict diet which had always been so difficult to follow when Grandma was baking treats for everyone else. Realistically, of course, he knew he couldn't have maintained his superiority, but knowing it and wishing for it were two very different things.

It wasn't even as if there were any rescues to distract him. Not that he would wish danger and hurt to anyone, but he'd love the chance to feel good about himself again. After all, Valdimir Petrov didn't save lives, did he? No, Gordon Tracy - if only he could get the sound of the commentator saying ' Gordon who?' out of his head - had made the right choice. Now he just had to stop feeling so bad about it - this really wasn't like him. His family were worried about him, too, and that made him feel guilty. Selfish, too, for feeling this way when as he well knew, he was one of the most privileged men in the world.

It was Alan and Grandma who found a way to cheer him up. At dinner, some four days later, both of them were looking somewhat pleased with themselves. Everyone but Gordon noticed it, especially since they spent the meal looking at each other and either smiling (Grandma) or winking (Alan). When Kyrano had cleared the dishes away, Gordon made to leave, only for Grandma to ask him to stay. Unusually, Kyrano returned, meaning that all the inhabitants of Tracy Island were gathered around the table. John, too, was present, via the vid-link from Thunderbird Five.

"We've had an idea," Alan announced, gesturing across to Grandma. "Gords, we've got a way to cheer you up."

A couple of days earlier, Gordon would probably have snapped that he didn't need cheering up, but he was so fed-up now that he simply looked up curiously, not expecting to go for whatever plan they had, but unable to stop himself hoping that his family might be able to help him out.

"Remember when you boys were little?" Grandma asked. "Summer vacation at the beach?"

"Yeah," Scott said, wondering where this was going.

Jeff laughed, catching his mother's eye. "Really, Mom?" he asked.

Grandma's smile became even wider. "Why not?"

"What?" Gordon asked, even as Virgil started laughing too.

"You don't remember the Tracylimpics?" Grandma asked.

Tin-Tin stared at her. "The what?"

"The contests we used to have on summer vacation," Scott told her. "The ones I should have won, except I had to have penalties to make sure the kids didn't cry because they were always getting beaten."

"So Gords isn't the only sore loser in the family," Virgil whispered to Brains, careful to keep his voice low enough for neither brother to hear.

Gordon sighed. "Sure, they were fun, but I'm a bit old for that kind of thing, Grandma."

"And that's exactly the kind of comment that makes me think it's exactly what you need!" Grandma exclaimed. "Gordon Tracy refusing a challenge? Turning down the chance to have some fun?"

"Gordon's right, though," Scott said. "We're not kids any more. Anyway, a day on the beach isn't exactly a novelty these days."

"Who said anything about the beach?" Alan asked. "Or about kids' games for that matter? No, this is the new, improved Tracylimpics. Come on guys, we're always joking around about who's the best. Now we can find out once and for all. Here's the plan: each of us comes up with one challenge based on our particular skills. Mine's driving, obviously, Gords, yours is swimming. But it doesn't have to be sport. Dad and Grandma will be the judges - they can think up challenges as well. So can Tin-Tin and Kyrano. John, if Brains doesn't mind taking over on Five, you can take part too."

John pulled a face, obviously having been thinking that up on Five he was safe from such nonsense. But when he started to tell Brains not to bother about it, Alan threw down the one challenge a brother could never refuse.

"Scared? Think you'll come last?"

John looked at him through narrowed eyes. "I get to issue my own challenge?"

"Sure."

"Okay. It's about time someone put you kids in your place."

"Go Johnny!" Alan was clearly delighted having thought John would be the hardest brother to get on board. Only later did he start worrying about what devious plan John would come up with...

But for now there were other brothers to convince.

"Gords?"

Gordon considered it. On the one hand it did sound fun - he'd loved those childhood summers - but on the other, a few silly games hardly compared to an Olympic final...

"Scott, you'll do it, won't you?" Alan went on. "I mean, I know you're a bit old now, but you can always use the excuse that you're letting us win."

"In your dreams." Scott pushed his chair back, flexed his biceps and grinned. "It's about time I got the chance to take you guys on properly. I'm in."

"Virg?"

"It doesn't have to be sport?"

"No. Music, drawing, anything."

"Okay." Virgil zoned out of the rest of the conversation, wondering which of his many talents he could draw on to challenge his brothers.

Jeff was delighted with the idea. He'd always loved summer vacations with his boys. It was one of the few times when he'd allowed all his other responsibilities to be taken over by his managers, freed from the stress of his business and able to devote all his time and energy to his family. Those days on the beach had been some of the happiest of his life - aside from the tantrums from Alan when he'd lost a race, of course. It would do his boys good, too - all of them, not just Gordon.

"I have an idea," Kyrano said.

"M-me too." Brains smiled as Alan clapped him on the back.

Gordon was aware everyone was looking at him. Well, any distraction was welcome at the moment and it could be fun, of course. Plus, he was bound to win at least some of the events and any kind of victory would be good right now - in fact, beating a brother would be just as satisfying as beating another swimmer, possibly even more so. He'd certainly be able to make full use of the bragging rights afterwards.

"We get medals," Alan said.

"And cake," Grandma added, knowing exactly how to bribe a grandson.

"Well in that case..." Gordon said slowly, a genuine smile beginning to appear on his face, a more than welcome sight for everyone after the forced efforts of the last few days. It was clear what his answer was going to be.

"Challenge accepted!"