A Family for Christmas- A Tracy Christmas Tale

Quick shout out to all the FanFiction authors who inspired me to write this- even if they didn't know they did. Also a big thanks to my beta reader, Loco Koko, who is the best cheerleader I could have asked for.

Disclaimer- I do not own the Thunderbirds, or any of their characters, just my own brain children.

Alan stalked through the streets of New York on Christmas Eve, seeing the hustle and bustle of the people around him, but not really paying attention. He was too lost in his own thoughts.

"Stupid arm," Alan muttered irritably. "Why did you have to get me in trouble?"

Or why do people themselves have to be complete idiots? He thought crossly. On the Thunderbirds last rescue there had been a tornado in Oklahoma. Some cop had been drunk before getting called into assisting with the cleanup. There had been a scuffle and Alan had been gone to break it up. It had ended with the drunk cop on the ground and Alan walking away. The cop had grabbed his gun and shot at Alan; instinct had told him to get out of the way, but he hadn't been quite fast enough. The bullet had gone through the muscles in his upper arm. So while he was alive, his arm was giving him fits. Alan had tried to work despite the pain, insisting that he was fine, but Virgil had seen past it and ordered him to the infirmary aboard Thunderbird 2.

After the mission, Alan had been put on temporary leave until his arm healed. Since Alan hated to be left without anything to do, he had headed to New York to take care of some Tracy Industry business. He had been planning to go back to Tracy Island for Christmas, but the weather surrounding New York meant no flights were allowed, not even the Tracy Jets. It wasn't the first time Alan was by himself for Christmas, but that didn't mean he had to be happy about it. To him, Christmas was all about family, and it irritated him to no end to not be able to be there with them. Then, to add insult to injury, when he was talking to Dad about the change in holiday plans, the Thunderbirds had been called out on a mission to some major floods in New Orleans, and they were still there. So he wasn't able to even be able to help them in Command and Control on Tracy Island on the mission!

"Stupid arm!" Alan huffed again in annoyance. He slowed his fast pace, then stopped in the shadow of a building. Somehow his he had managed to find himself in the more shady side of town. He sighed, then leaned against the side of the building, running his hand through his golden hair. He was being ridiculous and he knew it. "Well, worse things could happen," he mused.

Suddenly, he saw two frightened kids being chased into a nearby alley by a group of young men who had a menacing air surrounding them, the leader shouting at the kids. Alan caught a flash of silver in the men's hands. He groaned. "I had to open my big mouth."

Then his rescue instinct kicked in and he ran towards the alley, slowing down to get a look at the situation before he got involved. The two kids, both young girls, one with golden hair and the other with vibrant red hair, were huddled at the end of the alley; the red headed girl, who looked about fourteen, positioned herself to protect the blond, about ten years old. The teens looked about seventeen or eighteen, were circled threateningly in front of the two girls- while there was only four guys, they all carried knives with them.

"Well, look who we caught," smirked the boy who looked to be the leader. He wore everything black, which matched his hair, but contrasted starkly with his sickly milk-colored skin. The other three were bulkier, also dressed in black, but they didn't seem up for conversation. "Two little pretty things all alone on Christmas."

"Leave us alone, Marco!" called the red-head boldly. "We were going home when you and your jerks cut us off!"

"Yeah, go away jerks! Leave me and my sister alone!" the little blond chimed in. They were obviously afraid, but seemed like they had had run in's with these boys before.

"I don't think so, pretty miss," Marco jeered menacingly. "You see, me and my boys didn't appreciate what you said and did to us last time. And we don't like your ugly grandpa taking away our cover. So we are going to take it out on you…" He stepped closer ominously, with the rest of the guys falling behind him.

Alan had had enough.

He stepped forward, growling "Hey, pick on someone your own size, cowards."

The four boys all turned around in surprise. Marco smirked. "Well, well, a goody-two-shoes. Obviously, you are new around here, or you would know not to mess with me and my boys."

Alan guessed that his simple jacket, long sleeve t-shirt, jeans, and running shoes were making them think that he lived around the area- he inwardly smirked. They could not be farther from the truth. Outwardly, he stepped closer, seemingly unconcerned. "It doesn't take a new guy long to figure out that New York has its share of rats outside the sewers as well as inside." He stared challengingly at Marco, a small smirk on his face.

A look of fury crossed Marco's face. "I was going to give you a warning, two-shoes, then let you go. But now I think I am going to have you beaten to a pulp and have the girls watch so they have an idea of what we are capable of," he sneered. Then he snapped his fingers and pointed at Alan.

The three hulking masses rushed at Alan, but he was prepared. He dropped into a fighting stance and threw the first one over his shoulder. Then he neatly spun around to avoid the fist of the second brute before grabbing his arm and kicking out his knees. He faced the third man with raised eyebrows. The bully slowed for a second, then pulled out the knives that the rest had seemed to forget. He ran at Alan, but Alan just swept his feet out from underneath him before he had a chance to get too close. Then he stepped over the man lying on the ground to kick away the knife that he had dropped. "I would stay down there willingly if you don't want me to make you drop more permanently," Alan warned the men before walking away from them. He started towards Marco, who seemed momentarily frozen by the shock over how quickly and efficiently Alan had disabled his followers.

"You… you… my men…" Marco stammered with wide eyes.

"Yes, they really weren't very coordinated," Alan threw at him. "And I have no doubt you will be easier than them."

Marco seemed to snap out of his paralysis. He glared at Alan with hatred in his eyes. "You just took out my best fighters!"

"Your best fighters? Them? Really? Where did you find them, Henchmen-R-Us?" Alan smirked. "Maybe next time you might want to look outside of the 'big, dumb, and ugly' aisle."

Marco rushed at Alan, blindly waving his knife. Alan just waited where he was, then punched Marco in the face when he came into range. Marco dropped to the ground, holding his broken nose and groaning in pain. Alan kicked the knife aside, then leaned close to Marco's face. "You don't intimidate me. And leave these girls alone, or I will come back and find you, and you will suffer more than a broken nose MARCO."

Alan walked towards the back of the alley, glancing behind him. The henchmen grabbed Marco and were pulling him away, out of the alley. Marco looked at him with hatred and fury in his gaze.

"Don fink dis is ober, do-shoes," he screamed though the broken nose. "I will fide you again. Dis isn't ober!" He shrieked before the brutes carried him away.

Alan gave a sigh of relief, finishing the distance to the girls. They were staring at him with a mix of awe and suspicion, huddled close to a wall. He crouched down to look them in the eyes, and he smiled gently. "Hi. My name is Alan. I don't think those guys will be coming back for a bit- are you okay?"

The blond, hiding shyly behind her sister, nodded quietly; her blue eyes were fixed on him, staring intently. The red head just looked at him for a moment before responding. "Yeah, we're okay. Thanks, um… Alan. Hey, how did you do that? You took them down easily!" The blond nodded enthusiastically.

Alan nodded and smiled at them. "You're welcome. I can explain it while I escort you back home, if you'd like, miss…?" He asked, holding out his hands to help them up.

The girl blushed. "Oh. I'm Holly Olsen, and this is my sister Carol," she said gesturing first to herself then the blond. They accepted his hands and got up, brushing the dirt off of their jeans. "You don't have to escort us, if you don't want to," Holly said, glancing at him shyly. "We'll be okay."

"I'm sure you would be." Alan said, smiling at them. "But I was taught I should always escort girls home after kicking gangster butt. And you'll never guess what just happened!"

Carol giggled at his response, peeking out from behind her sister. Holly smirked. "Well, if you insist. We live this way," she said, leading the way out of the alley.

They walked in silence for a few minutes. Alan was keeping an eye out around them, all the while aware of the impatient glances both girls were shooting his way.

"Well?" Holly burst out as they walked down the sidewalks. "Where did you learn moves like that?"

Alan chuckled. "Well, it probably helps that I have four older brothers that I have to deal with. I also learned about a few different fighting styles and combined some of them. It's handy in situations like that," he added, unconsciously rubbing his injured arm, feeling the bandage through the long sleeves.

"Do you get into fights a lot?" questioned Carol, skipping beside her sister. "Does your arm hurt? Why are you rubbing it?"

Alan stopped rubbing his arm, shocked and a little amused that while he hadn't noticed he was doing it, Carol had. "Wow. That's a lot of questions," he chuckled. "Well, I try not to make it a habit of getting into fights, but it has happened."

"Did Marco get you?" Holly asked as they walked, her green eyes narrowed in concern. "Are you okay?"

Alan sighed, running his hand through his hair. "Yeah, I'm fine. I was injured from something that happened before. It's a little sore after handling those brutes, but it isn't too bad," he said. He was sure that would change after the adrenaline wore off, though.

The girls led him down a smaller alley lined with doors to the second to last door. "This is our house," announced Carol before opening the door and skipping inside. Holly followed her slowly, looking back at Alan. "Um…do you want to come inside? We could look at your arm… I know it isn't much, but it's the least we can do after you helped us. Plus, Grandpa will kill us if we don't introduce you," she added with a grin.

Alan smiled back at her before nodding politely. "Sure. Thank you." He ducked under the doorway, as he was a little taller that the door was.

Inside, the little apartment was a little dingy, but mostly clean and homey. He could hear Carol chatting excitedly to someone in the kitchen, just behind a wall that separated it from a tiny living room. Holly led him to the sounds.

"… and then he came and totally kicked Marco's butt!" Alan caught Carol saying as they walked into the kitchen. She was talking to an older man with salt and pepper hair and a carefully trimmed beard. What surprised Alan was just how worn and stressed his face was; the man looked to be in his 50's! The conversation the man was having with his granddaughter broke his train of thought.

"Did he?" ask the grandfather with a small smile on his face, his whole attention focused on his granddaughter.

"Yes! I want to learn to do that!" Carol said enthusiastically. She turned to look at her sister. "Don't you want to learn to do that, Holly?"

The grandfather's eyes turned to look at them. Catching sight of Alan, his eyes widened momentarily in… recognition? Alan wasn't totally sure, and the look disappeared quickly. He smiled. "So here is the hero of the day." He stood as much as he was able to shake Alan's hand, each movement careful and measured. His left foot was wrapped in gauze.

"Not really, sir. I just happened to be at the right place at the right time, sir," Alan told him with a smile.

"Indeed," the grandfather said returning the smile. "You have impeccable timing. And please, call me Mark. Sir makes me sound like someone important."

Alan softly chuckled at the self-effacing words. "And I'm Alan."

"Well, Alan, won't you sit down?" Mark said, gesturing to the chair opposite his. Alan smiled, and sat.

Carol skipped over and tugged at his sleeve. "How's your arm, Alan?"

He smiled at her. "It's fine, thanks." He glanced up at Mark. "You have very observant granddaughters."

"Yes, well, thank you for rescuing them from that fiend." He said the last word with a scowl. "The nerve of him, acting out on Christmas!"

"Yes, I never got to ask that question," Alan said, turning to Carol and Holly. "What were you girls doing out on Christmas Eve by yourselves?"

"Getting Grandpa's medicine!" Carol said innocently. "So his ankle won't hurt!" Holly, who was standing at the little Bunsen burner that was their makeshift stovetop making some cocoa, nodded in support of Carol's statement.

Alan turned to the older man, a suspicion growing in his mind. "Mark… did Marco have anything to do with your ankle being injured?"

Grey eyebrows raised in surprise at the question. "Actually, yes. Well, I don't have any solid proof, but I am sure it was him. As I was walking home from my job the other day, I was nearly ran down by a car. I jumped out of the way, but I twisted my ankle in the process. How in the world did you know?" Mark questioned, gingerly sitting back down in his chair.

Alan shrugged a little. "Just something Marco said in the alley when he was talking to the girls. He mentioned something about you 'messing with their cover'."

Mark's blue eyes, much like Carol's, darkened in anger. "Those boys are part of a gang of sorts in this part of town," He told Alan quietly. "I have been trying to quietly help the police catch them. Apparently, I wasn't quiet enough in my efforts. Soon after the last time the police caught some of their members, Marco started harassing my girls when they were walking back from their school. Just after that, the car almost hit me."

Holly set mugs of cocoa down in front of them. "Marco wasn't too bad at first, mostly just annoying," she said, rolling her eyes. "It was when we started walking a different way to avoid him that he started getting a little nasty. Then one day Carol told him off, and he turned just awful."

Alan frowned a little at hearing what they said. The man must have some sort of inferiority issue, if getting yelled at by a child set him off, he thought. Then Carol caught his attention by tapping him on the hand. "Alan, won't they come after you too? Because you beat them up and saved us?" Her blue eyes glittered in concern for him, warming his heart.

He grinned at her. "They can sure try, but I'm not too worried. I am not in New York terribly often anyway, and when I am, it isn't really in this part."

At this, Mark leaned forward and stared at Alan intently. "No? So what were you doing here now, on Christmas Eve of all days? Shouldn't you be with your family? I am sure they must be worried sick." His grandchildren leaned forward too, not wanting to miss his explanation.

"Well, I should have been, but the weather around New York is delaying all flights out," Alan explained. "I got a little frustrated at the situation and decided to go for a walk around town. I guess I let my frustration get the best of me, because I wasn't really paying attention to where I was going, which is how I ended up catching what was going on with Marco." Alan leaned back in his chair, thoughtful and a little sad. "Even if I had managed to get out of New York, I probably couldn't have been spending Christmas with my family very much anyway. Our family business sometimes calls us away from home, and they are gone right now."

Holly cocked her head at Alan. "Wouldn't you have gone with them?"

Alan smiled at her thoughtfulness. "Not really. I mentioned that I got injured earlier? Well, my older brothers are super protective and wouldn't have let me go with them because of it."

"Mom and Dad always said that family was the most important thing on Christmas," said Carol matter-of-factly.

Alan grinned. "Your mom and dad were very smart people, Carol." Noting the past tense Carol had used, Alan was careful to do the same.

Holly nodded seriously. "Yep. They worked for Tracy Industries as computer people before they were killed in a car accident two years ago." Her voice was very quiet, especially when talking about how they died.

Alan glanced around at the small family; they all were very sad at the mention of their lost loved ones. "I understand," he said gently. "My mom died when I was three. Family was important to her too."

Mark smiled gratefully at Alan, pulling his granddaughters close to him in a hug. They leaned into him, sighing.

Then Mark glanced at the small clock that was hanging on the wall. "Okay girls, it is past your bedtime. Brush your teeth then crawl into bed. I'll come check on you in a little bit."

The sisters complained a bit, glancing at Alan, who smiled at them. "You should probably listen to your grandpa. They usually know what they are talking about," he added with mischievous look at Mark.

Mark huffed in playful annoyance. "You'd better watch it, or I'll sick my granddaughters on you!" The girls giggled at the banter before kissing their grandpa goodnight and walking out of the room.

When they had left, Mark looked at Alan again with gratitude. "I really can't thank you enough for saving them from Marco. I don't know what I would do without them. They give me hope for a better world…" he sighed. "I just wish I could provide for them better than this."

Alan leaned forward, cupping his chin in his hands. "That is one thing that has me baffled, Mark. How did you end up here, in one of the darker parts of New York? You don't seem like the kind who would be content to sit here and live off of government support if you could avoid it."

The older man sighed. "I used to be an architect. I had a successful business, I was fairly wealthy, and it was a good life. My son was married to a wonderful woman and they had two beautiful daughters that I doted on…" His gaze was far away as he thought about the past. "But bad luck has a way of hitting where it hurts the most. One day one of my business partners broke off, and somehow managed to abscond with most of the profits from our business, leaving me broke. Then, just three days later, I found out that my son and daughter in law had been killed in a car crash, leaving their girls orphans." His gaze darkened. "It turns out that the lawyer who was managing their affairs was the brother of my old business partner. He got hold of the money that should have gone to Holly and Carol and ran off with it." He shook his head mournfully. "I have done the best that I could, but it's hard. They deserve so much better, but they don't complain."

Here, his eyes brightened as he talked about his granddaughters, who he obviously adored. "Holly is following in her parents footsteps as a computer technician. When she gets her hands on a device, there isn't anything she can't do." His eyes glimmered with wonder at the potential before them. "Carol seems to be leaning more towards the medical field. She is fascinated with what doctors can do, and is trying to learn everything she can."

His eyes saddened again. "I would love to help develop those talents, but there isn't much I can afford. As it is, we can barely afford this apartment. And with Marco getting involved…" He put his head in his hands.

Alan reached over and put a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. "Mark, you are doing a great job with those girls. They know you are trying hard, and they try hard too." Then he leaned back thoughtfully. "Hmm… you said their parents worked for Tracy Industries? I am sure you would be approved for help if you told them the situation. Tracy Industries takes care of its employees, including the children."

Mark's blue eyes glittered with happiness as Alan told him of several different options he could take to get the monetary help they needed to get out of their situation. As Alan concluded, he reached out and grabbed the younger man's hand. "Thank you, Alan. You have given me more this Christmas than I ever would have thought possible." He leaned back and smiled at Alan before quietly murmuring "Lucy would have been proud."

The words electrified Alan, sending a tingle up his spine. "Wait, you know who I am? More importantly, you knew my mom?" His blue eyes were wide with shock.

Mark grinned. "I knew who you were the minute you walked into the kitchen. Did you know you look almost exactly like her? Same eyes, same hair, same personality; you are always wanting to help people. I knew your mom when she was growing up in Boston," he chuckled. "It's almost funny- we actually met in almost the same way you met my girls." At Alan confused look, he clarified. "I was about eighteen when your mom was eight- we shouldn't have been friends, but we somehow were. It was all because your mom was getting picked on by some older boys and I drove them off. We kept in contact through the years. I was mighty upset to hear of her passing." He spoke the last words quietly. "I lost track of time and of your family. I saw you once when you were small, and now look at you."

Alan smiled. "Old enough to return the family favor- you saved my family, I saved yours."

Mark grinned. "Why don't we just 'cut the crap', as your mom would have said- we are family. Lucy was like my younger sister- that would make me an uncle of sorts."

Alan nodded happily. "I can live with that." They sat quietly for a few moments before Mark got up.

"I am going to check on the girls. I'll be right back." While he was gone, Alan quietly contemplated everything that had happened. Somehow he had gone from being alone on Christmas Eve, to discovering that he had more family that was closer than he ever had thought.

Subtly, Alan thought he could smell lilac, the scent his mother would always wear. He smiled, sure she was there with him.

Mark walked back into the kitchen and sat back down. Alan leaned back in his chair and looked thoughtfully at him. "So… what was my mom like?"

The rest of the night was filled with stories and laughter between the two men. Alan was happier than he had been for some time. When the sun started peeking through the window, they were surprised at how much time had passed; it seemed like they had only been talking for an hour. Alan got up and shook hands with Mark, smiling.

"Thank you. This Christmas was more than I thought it would be," he said sincerely. "You'll call me and tell me how things go?"

Mark nodded, holding up the slip of paper Alan had given him with his personal number on it. "I'll keep you updated. And don't be a stranger! Holly and Carol would love to see you again soon."

Alan grinned. "I'm sure I will see them again soon." He waved, then walked out the door. Maybe even as soon as later today! Alan thought with a smile. I mean, what is Christmas Day without family? I just need to swing by the store and find some acceptable presents…

The End

A/N Hey guys! Thanks for taking a chance on this! Just warning you, this is my first FanFiction thing I have published, so please go easy on me. Constructive criticism is appreciated, positive reviews will be adored, and extremely harsh reviews will not be kindly looked upon.

But whatever you do, PLEASE review! :)

Hey, that totally rhymed!

(Ages: Alan- 20, Gordon- 25, Virgil- 26, John- 28, Scott- 29) In case you wanted to know.