Disclaimer: see chapter one... wait a minute, this is chapter one. In that case, none of the Thunderbirds or any of its affiliates belongs to me. They are the property of Gerry Anderson. Any other characters in the story do belong to me, as they are the product of my hyperactive imagination in overdrive. Also, 'The Weakest Link' and any of its affiliates does not belong to me either.

AN: Oh, a short story this time. Three chapters at the most. As promised, this is the story when Jeff meets Gus' parents in the most unorthodox way. I'm going to skip a few rounds; otherwise the chapter will drag out a bit. Hope you don't mind.

Chapter One- The Weakest Link

Virgil walked into the kitchen in Gus' apartment, after doing some last minute wedding organization. He smiled at his fiancée, picked up a knife and began to slice some bread.

"Virgil," Gus sat down on a counter, her head buried in a newspaper. "Put the knife down."

Virgil stopped sawing through the loaf of bread.

"Now remove your shoelaces, your belt and any other sharp objects you have and give them to me."

Virgil eyed her suspiciously. "Why?"

"Just do it!" Gus held Virgil's bread knife, belt, watch and shoes ransom. "It's for your own safety. My mother's coming over. She wants to show us her holiday photos."

Virgil felt all his muscles tauten in his body. Clenching his jaw, he replied, "That's great! I cannot wait to see her again. I love her like Scott loves his own in laws."

Gus rolled her brown eyes disbelievingly and scoffed. "Please; Scott doesn't even like his in laws. Don't pull that with me."

"Well, I think I'll get some..." Virgil paused, glancing to the back door, leading to the fire exit. "Frozen yoghurt from the freezer outside."

"That door is locked, by the way."

Virgil walked away.

"So is the front."

Trying to find a way out of his predicament, Virgil dug deep into his pockets.

"I have both sets of keys."

Virgil's eyes lingered over his last method of escape; the window.

"The windows that don't have bars are locked too."

Virgil was trapped, and he knew it. Dejectedly, he sank to the floor on his knees. "Why," he howled. "Why must you cage me in like some animal?"

Virgil slouched on the sofa in the living room, his eyes travelled longingly to the locked door. This was his seventh level of hell and he hated it. No, hated was too mild a word. He loathed it, he despised it, he detested every moment wasted sitting on that sofa.

Gus sat next to Virgil; one hand jangling keys teasingly in front of his eyes, the other one holding photos. "Yes Mother, you can never have too many photos of the same beach, can you?" She sounded positively bored.

"And here's one of me and Brad on the beach at sunset." Grace, Gus' mother handed her the photo. "We'd go down in our bathing costumes and have the entire beach to ourselves."

Honey burnt eyes scanned the photo. "Really," Virgil muttered under his breath sarcastically. "Can't imagine why."

"Here's one of us getting married," Grace shifted that photo to the back of her pile. "And then we're back to the beginning."

"Wait, wait, wait; let me see that last photo!" Gus ordered. She snatched the photo out of her mother's hand and stared at it. "You got married?! Again?! What is this, your fourth husband in three years?"

"Actually, it's two years. But who's counting?"

"I can't believe it!" Gus stammered. "You got married and you didn't invite us?!"

"And for that," Virgil muttered once again. "We are eternally grateful."

"You know Gus, sometimes I find it hard to tell you things! You have a tendency to overreact!"

"I do not," Gus yelled as she stood up, and crossed her arms. She paused, and composed herself before sitting down, and continuing calmly. "Overreact."

Seeing an opportunity to escape, Virgil seized it with both hands. "Well, if you'll excuse me," he said to no-one in particular. "I have to... not be here." Since no-one was going to stop him, Virgil jumped off the sofa, and scampered to the door, as fast as his legs would carry him. As he entered the hallway, he bumped into Mike. "Don't go in there," he warned. "Your mother and sister are about to have a fight. I'm getting out of here while I can."

"Thanks for the heads up, Virg, but I have to go in there. Let's hope I come back with all my limbs." With a deep breath, Mike launched himself into the living room. "They called. The Tracys and us are going to be on a family edition of The Weakest Link. I did tell you about it."

"You see Mother! That's what we do in this family; we tell each other things." Gus grabbed her brother by the elbow and led him out of their mother's earshot. "When did you tell me about it?"

"Three months ago, when I sent off the forms."

Gus' eyebrows knitted together. "I don't remember signing anything."

"I sort of forged both your signatures. I sent the other forms off to Virgil and he and his brothers signed them. I can forge them perfectly, you know."

"Even Mum's?"

"Since I was ten." Mike shrugged, as though it was no big deal.

"Could you teach me?"

"Anyway, there's one slight problem. Alan called. He said he wouldn't be able to come since Leroy has a stomach bug. So, we're one short."

"That's not a problem. Mother's gone off and gotten married. Again!" Gus reassured him sourly.

"So, will he do it?"

"Oh, Mother's latest conquest will do anything," Gus replied still sour. "Haven't you seen the photos?"

Virgil sat in the safety of a restaurant, thanking his lucky stars he managed to get out of Gus' apartment and her mother while he still could. He looked up as a shadow fell over his table. "Thanks for coming."

"I said I would. How's the wedding stuff coming on?"

Virgil sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. "The actual wedding stuff is going fine. The in-laws, however..." He trailed off; leaving the rest deliberately unsaid and took a bite out of his burger.

"Come on Virg, they can't be that bad." Scott consoled, unstrapping himself from the Snugli he had and held his three month old son in his arms. "We've met her brothers; they seem alright."

"Yeah, Mike and Adam are fine. It's just my future mother in law. She takes some perverse pleasure in torturing me!"

"I can't say I sympathise; sorry Virgil." Scott shifted Luke into the crook of his elbow and snagged some fries from Virgil's plate.

"But Charlene hates you!" Virgil stammered out in disbelief. "And that was my chip you stole!"

"All's fair in love, war and the rules of brotherhood. That includes stealing chips." To prove his point, Scott snaffled another two fries and fed one to Mel. "And I can't sympathise because as far as Tash is concerned, she has no mother. Therefore, I have no in-law. Hey, did you find out when we have to go for that game show thing?"

"Today. In two hours. Want to talk tactics?"

"Sorry Virg. I've already got my tactics sorted out with someone."

"Who?" Virgil demanded.

"I'm not telling!" Scott cuffed his younger brother on the head. "What kind of idiot do you take me for?"

"Welcome... to The Weakest Link." Music trilled around the studio. "Any of these nine contestants have the chance of winning ten thousand pounds for their selected charity. If they want this money, they will have to work together. However, eight of them will leave with nothing, as round by round; we eliminate one contestant, voted off as the weakest link." The game show host, Anne Robinson, clad in black turned around and eyed the nine of them beadily. "Let's meet the team."

"I'm Jeff Tracy, I'm fifty four and I'm a CEO."

"I'm Gordon Tracy, I'm twenty three and I'm not too old to be adopted."

"Hi, I'm John Tracy, I'm twenty six and I'm an astronomer."

"I'm Scott Tracy, I'm twenty seven and I'm a pilot."

"I'm Virgil Tracy, I'm twenty five and I'm an aerospace engineer."

"I'm Gus Harte, I'm twenty five, and I'm a physiotherapist."

"I'm Mike Harte, I'm twenty nine and I'm an interior designer."

"I'm Grace Harte, I'm fifty one and I'm an independent film director."

"I'm Brad Spencer, I'm fifty three and I'm a scientific inventor."

Music trilled around the studio again, and eighteen eyes focused on Anne.

"You have two and a half minutes to answer as many questions correctly as you can. The higher the chain, the more money you'll win. Get the question wrong, and you break the chain. If you say bank before I read a question, the money you've accumulated is safe, but you will start a new chain from scratch." Anne explained. "We'll start with the person whose name comes first alphabetically; that's you Brad. Let's play The Weakest Link. Start the clock. Brad,"

Brad jumped out of the daydream he was in. "Blimey."

"A television set which cannot broadcast shows in colour is known as black and what?"

Still slightly out of it, Brad answered without thinking. "Decker."

"The correct answer is white. Jeff, a contest in which two teams pull on a rope is known as a tug of...?"

"War."

"Correct. Gordon, what is one hundred and fifty eight minus eighty four?"

Gordon shivered inwardly. Maths. Why did his question have to be maths? He screwed up his face in concentration, willing himself to not make a mistake. "Seventy four, Anne."

"Correct. John, which character in Harry Potter also shares his name with a star?"

John grinned, confident he had it right. "Sirius."

"Correct. Scott, in cooking,"

"Bank," John hissed. "Bank, Scott! Don't lose the money I've just won! You know nothing about cooking!"

"What is the main ingredient in a risotto; pasta or rice?"

Scott thought for a moment. "Rice."

"Correct."

"At the end of round one, you only managed to bank a measly seven hundred and fifty pounds." Anne sneered. "Which village is missing its idiot? It's time to vote off the weakest link."

There was an agonizing silence, as pens scribbled over boards and prying eyes skitted over their neighbours' board.

"Voting over; it's time to reveal who you think is the weakest link."

Nine pairs of arms outstretched and nine boards flipped over in turn, revealing their vote.

"Jeff, why did you vote for Mike?" Anne looked him up and down, measuring him up.

"He got some questions wrong and he failed to bank at the appropriate moment, losing a great deal of money. I thought he was the weakest link."

Anne swivelled her question pad and looked at Mike. "Mike, you volunteered everyone on this show. Why?"

"Well, I've recorded every episode of The Weakest Link. Then I transcribed every question, sub dividing them into categories. From that, and Virgil's help, I figured that the only three people who had a higher than eighty percent chance of beating me were John, Scott and Virgil."

Anne shook her head slightly. "You don't have a girlfriend, do you?"

Mike bowed his head slightly. "No, Anne."

Anne turned again and gave a rare smile. "Scott, you're a bit of a dish, aren't you?"

Scott could feel a blush creeping up his cheek.

"What about you; have you got a girlfriend?"

"No Anne."

There was a collective gasp from the female members of the audience.

"My wife wouldn't be too pleased if I said I had one."

And then there was a collective groan.

"Why Mike?"

"I had to get rid of someone. Sorry dude; it had to be you."

"John, you're not that bad either. Have you got a girl?"

"No, but thank you for offering, Anne. However, I do not think I've quite reached the level of maturity to fully meet and justify your needs as a woman."

Anne smiled again, the edges to her sharp face softening. "Oh, I don't think so John. Tidy yourself up and keep your mouth shut, and who knows? Why Mike?"

John squared his shoulders, and wriggled a bit. "I sort of promised my brothers that I wouldn't vote any of them off in the first round." John looked at Mike. "Sorry man. No hard feelings, yeah?"

"Mike, you are the weakest link. Goodbye."

There were ten seconds left on the timer before the end of the round.

"Gus, in the legal profession, who can be called to the bar?"

"Besides my mother? A barrister."

Gus' answer slipped in before the end of round music blared out.

"That is the correct answer, and you were inside the time limit. At the end of round four, you banked a pathetic three hundred pounds. You had a chain of twelve correct answers, meaning you could have reached your thousand pound target!" Anne stood still; the expression on her face could have been carved in stone. "Does our physio need stretching out?"

Gus' jaw dropped in indignation.

"Does our scientist need a new brain?"

Brad drew in a deep breath.

"It's time to vote off the weakest link."

John shot a sly look at Scott's board, and Scott leaned ever so slightly to the right, peering at John's board. A slight nod was shared between the two brothers.

"Voting over; it's time to reveal who you think is the weakest link." Anne moved quickly, as each person revealed their vote. "Virgil, why are you voting off your future mother in law?"

"She voted for me before. Just returning the favour."

"Gus, why did you vote for Brad?"

"Because," Gus sighed, with the air of long-suffering. "It doesn't matter if I got rid of one of my mother's husbands. There's always another one to take his place."

"You're a fine one to talk!" Grace retorted quietly.

Anne and her question pad swirled around. "Did you say something Grace?"

"I-I-I.... No. My daughter's led a perfect life. She's just made some bad decisions. I'm not just talking about agreeing to marry Virgil."

"Oh really?"

"I have no idea of what you're talking about, Mother."

"Las Vegas? On your gap year?" Grace prompted.

Gus laughed nervously. "Can we move on please?"

"No, no. I sense tension! What happened in Vegas, Gus?"

"I don't remember." Gus replied quickly. Too quickly.

"Grace, can you help us out?"

"Mother!"

"You wanted us to be a family that told each other things!"

"Mother, be quiet! Brad, you are the weakest link, goodbye!" Gus garbled, hoping her mother wouldn't say anymore.

"That's my line!" Anne snapped at Gus. "Brad. You are the weakest link. Goodbye."

It was the end of round five, and all the votes had been revealed.

"So, Grace," Anne began. "What did Gus do in Vegas?"

"She had a quickie marriage!"

"What?!" Virgil spluttered out.

"His name was Troy! Troy the Punisher!" Grace relished in telling the tale.

"Was he a physio too?" Scott asked, amusement twinkling in his eyes.

Grace rubbed her hands gleefully. "He was a wrestler!"

Gus launched herself off her platform and charged at her mother. Luckily for Grace, Virgil caught her before she could do any harm.

"Grace, you are the weakest link. Goodbye."

"You married a wrestler?!" Virgil hissed as Grace walked out of the studio.

"Round six; and another ten seconds are coming off the clock." Anne interrupted. "We'll start with the strongest link from the last round; that's Virgil. Let's play The Weakest Link. Virgil, which world famous director made movies such as Saving Private Ryan and Jurassic Park?"

"A wrestler called Troy!"

"Steven Spielberg. Gus, in one of Shakespeare's play, the opening lines are if music be the food of love..."

"It was Las Vegas! I was drunk!" Gus hissed back at Virgil.

"The correct answer is play on."

Round six was drawing to a close.

"Virgil, in the long running series Doctor Who, the voice of the Daleks are created using a ring what?"

'If Virgil gets this right, and Gus banks," Scott thought to himself. 'We'll have a chain of nine correct answers, meaning we'll reach our target.'

Virgil fidgeted and shook his head.

"Modulator." Scott whispered out of the corner of his mouth.

"Modulator, Anne." Virgil answered confidently, and was cut by Gus banking and the music indicating the end of the round.

Anne glared daggers at Scott. "Did you help him?!" She placed her hands on her hips, hoping to intimidate him.

"No." Scott tried, and failed to sound innocent and appear guilt free.

"Hmph! At the end of that round, you managed to reach and bank your target money. However, is our astronomer's stars fizzling out?"

John yawned pointedly.

"Is our pilot crashing and burning in murky waters?"

Scott rolled his eyes, as though that insult had no effect on him.

"It's time to vote off the weakest link."

John and Scott shot each other knowing looks, and smiled.

"Voting over; it's time to reveal who you think is the weakest link."

John flipped his board. "Gus."

Scott flipped his board. "Gus."

Virgil exhaled deeply and snarled out his vote. "Gus."

Blinking like a frightened rabbit, Gus flipped her board. "Virgil."

"So, Virgil, why are you voting off your fiancée?"

"Why?" Virgil retorted incredulously. "Well, she got the question on the periodic table wrong," Virgil started to mumble angrily. "And she married another man!"

"Gus, why Virgil?"

"He got a few questions wrong." Gus replied in monotone, keeping her eye contact to a minimum.

"No, no," Anne rephrased. "Why are you marrying Virgil? And what happened to Troy?"

"You know what? I don't think that's any of your business!"

"Well, I think it's mine, so what happened?" Virgil spat out through gritted teeth.

"Never mind." Anne dismissed. "Scott, why are you getting rid of your future sister-in-law?"

Scott glanced sideways at the muderous looks Virgil was shooting at Gus before dryly responding. "I thought I'd give her a head start."

"John, charming John. Why are you getting rid of Gus?"

"She failed to answer some questions and I felt she was the weakest link."

"So, it has nothing to do with her seedy past?"

"I'm not one to judge, even though others might consider it a tad, well," John coughed delicately and trailed off.

"Gus, you are the weakest link. Goodbye!"

Gus hurried out of the studio, avoiding Virgil's wrath. Virgil jumped off his podium to follow her. "I'll just be two minutes. Gus? Gus! We need to talk!"

Gus ran out of the studio, and through the labyrinth of corridors, hoping to lose Virgil. Virgil stuck to her like glue, though, until he was stopped by a figure with a headset.

"Mr. Tracy. You can't run out of the studio in the middle of the show."

"Listen! My upcoming marriage is much more important than your stupid show!" Virgil exploded, unable to reign in his anger.

The producer blinked. "If you don't go back, you will be sued for the full cost of the recording. Also, any money that has been won will not be donated to the winner's charity."

Virgil groaned in frustration, slammed his fist into a wall before turning on his heel and marching back to the studio.

"It's time to vote off the weakest link."

Virgil leaned over to Scott. "Vote me off Scott. Vote me off or I'll kill Mel and Luke!"

"Voting over; it's time to reveal who you think is the weakest link."

"Virgil."

"Virgil."

"Me."

"Scott, you helped Virgil out in the last round. Why are you voting him off now?"

"Because he threatened to kill my kids if I didn't. I'd like to see him try, though."

"John, why are you voting off Virgil?"

"Because he was the worst player and his mind has been elsewhere this past round."

"Virgil. You are the weakest link. Goodbye."

Ecstatic, Virgil walked briskly out of the studio, and headed to the room where the contestants went to when they were voted out. The door opened, and he found himself face to face with his fiancée. "Hello Gus. Remember me? I'm going to be one of your husbands." He brushed past her and stood in the centre of the room. "You know, I've only made some minor achievements in the past, but the one thing I regret is that I've never done them wearing tights and a big belt!"

"Troy never wore a big belt." Gus corrected.

"Oh, you've got fond memories of him, haven't you?"

Fed up, Gus grabbed Virgil by the elbow and dragged him outside. "Listen! It was Las Vegas!"

"Oh, sure," Virgil scoffed. "We were all gambling our savings away, wearing flowers in our hair and marrying wrestlers."

"It was a one day marriage!" Gus cried out, exasperated. "We got married as a joke! It was a chapel that also served fried chicken, by the way. We had it annulled the next day."

"How could you not tell me you had been married?" Virgil raked a hand through his hair.

"I guess it was something I just forgot about." Gus admitted.

"You forget about it? Gus, we're getting married at York Street Church! What does that make us, then? What does that make us?"

Gus narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Are you sure I've never told you?"

"I think I would have remembered."

"I wanted to tell you," Gus revealed. "But when I met you, you were so wonderful. I didn't want to spoil a good thing."

Virgil smiled slightly and raised an eyebrow. "Go on."

"You were so handsome, exciting, charming, witty..."

"And?" Virgil prompted.

"Intelligent, handsome-"

"Mmm, you've done handsome before."

"Good looking?" Gus tried.

"Like handsome, only not as strong."

"I'm not a thesaurus Virgil." Gus snapped.

"Virgil, you ready to go?" Scott sat down next to his brother. The Weakest Link had finished, and Virgil was just siting idly on a couch

"Go? Where are we going?"

"Oh, that's a good one, Virg." Scott laughed. "Your bachelor party. Last two nights of freedom, you remember that tradition now?"

"You never had one." Virgil pointed out.

"I proposed and got married within twenty four hours. There wasn't much time for a party. So, you ready to go?"

"Scott, there's no point in having a bachelor party. I'm not even sure if there's going to be a wedding."

AN: Please review.