Summary: Unexpected twists and turns not only lead Brains to the end of his quest for his parentage, but also his quest for love.

Author's Note: This is a sequel to my story "Searching," and has been housed at the Tracy Island Chronicles for years.

TANGLED WEB

I look over at the passenger seat as I climb the jet even higher into the sky. Susan is turned sideways, facing me, and she is asleep. I remember only a couple days before when she wanted to make it very clear she didn't trust me.

I find now that I really want to look at her. I don't think it's just because I'm grateful for her assistance. I mean, she really is a pretty woman. But whether she is attractive or not, I am certain of two things: I must be careful not to confuse gratitude and attraction, and because of Susan's help I might just find out who I am after all. Austin Turner is only another alias. One in a long line of many.

"Look, Christopher!" she'd said, not holding still long enough for me to see what she held after I'd let her into my hotel room. "I just got this from my friend in the FBI!"

Eventually I retrieved the paper from her hand. It was an e-mail from someone named Robert Davis, and contained only three sentences.

"David and Elizabeth Turner were in the MI-6 protection program due to a case they had successfully solved. It is believed those they helped prosecute may have taken them, but they were never heard from after April 20, 2001. The child they adopted was purposely placed with them by an influential British contingent."

Those words play over and over again in my mind as clouds begin to build far beneath us. Robert Davis had attached a photograph of the Turners to his e-mail, and it was in that photograph that I found something to go on. They were standing in front of a mansion. A mansion that I recognized.

Susan stirs and I turn my head to look at her again. She'd wanted to come along. In fact, she'd insisted upon it. "I'm the one who gave you illegal access to adoption records," she'd said. "I'm in this now."

She had a point. Besides, I was too elated to argue. And that's when I made the mistake of initiating physical contact. In other words, I hugged her. It seemed the appropriate thing to do under the circumstances, and would have been uneventful, perhaps, had she not been jumping up and down at the time. That had an...unfortunate...effect on me.

Thankfully she didn't seem to notice, and a few hundred quantum calculations quickly brought me back down to Earth. But now as my mind begins to ask itself why I had that reaction to begin with, the radio crackles to life and I jump as though caught doing something wrong.

"Tracy Island to Tracy Three. Come in, Tracy Three." It's Jeff.

I open my end of the line. "This is Tracy Three."

"Hello, Brains, how's it going?"

"Well, I believe, sir. I should arrive at Lady Penelope's i-in approximately 92 minutes."

"Good. I've called ahead as you asked and-"

At first I don't realize why he's cut himself off mid-sentence, but then I notice his eyes are turned toward my right, and notice further that not only has Susan awakened, she has leaned over and is now in direct line-of-sight with the video screen. I mentally groan. I had neglected to inform Jeff that I was no longer alone in my quest.

"Maybe I should've told Penny to expect two?" he asks with a raised eyebrow.

I think I must be crimson because my face is hotter than melted steel and my head feels like it might explode. "Jeff Tracy," I say, my voice sounding tenuous even to me, "this is Susan Beasley. It's Miss Beasley who has been instrumental in assisting with my search."

"Ah. From the Michigan Vital Records office." I nod. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Beasley."

"Oh, just Susan, please! It's not that I doubted you, Christopher, but...that's really Jeff Tracy!"

I have to resist the urge to roll my eyes. Every Tracy man steals my thunder in every situation and I can't stifle the sigh that escapes my lips. Jeff looks at me, then back at Susan. "Well, what about it, Brains? I'm assuming you won't be dropping Miss Beasley in the Atlantic before you arrive at Penny's."

"You know both Jeff Tracy and Penelope Creighton-Ward," Susan says. Again, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. And then she surprises...and embarrasses...me. "You must be very special to be befriended by people as influential as them."

I'm crimson again, I just know it. I clear my throat and a rather unceremonious squeak comes out as Jeff's face morphs into a large grin. I try again and thankfully am able to get some intelligent words out of my mouth. "Yes, Jeff, please, ah, tell Lady Penelope to expect two i-if it isn't too much i-inconvenience."

"I'm sure it won't be at all, Brains." He nods at Susan. "Miss Beasley." Then he looks back at me and of all the interminable things, he winks at me. "Tracy Island out." And the channel is closed.

I breathe a sigh of relief as Susan speaks. "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry, but that...I mean, everyone knows who he is. I just couldn't believe he was there on your video screen."

"I-It's okay. The Tracys have that effect on people," I say.

Quite nonchalantly, I think, until she says, "You need to step out from under that shadow a bit. You're shell-shocked."

"I'm...what?"

"Why did he keep calling you Brains? What is that, a nickname or something?"

"It's...uh...yes, I-I've been called that since I was nineteen." I turn and blink twice at her. "Shell-shocked?"

"Well, it was pretty obvious by how you reacted to my reactions. Sorry, Christopher."

I just sigh again and shake my head. "Call me Brains," I say. I have to be honest with her. "Although I grew up known as Christopher Braman, I've been Brains for so long it's just...more comfortable."

She nods. "Okay. Brains it is. I assume that's because of your genius."

There she goes with that genius stuff again. "Yes."

It's quiet for a while as we are each lost in our own thoughts. I can't help but quirk a smile as I recall her reaction to Jeff. And I resolve to further investigate what it is exactly that makes women fall at the feet of Tracy men. It fascinates me, and at the same time makes me wonder how it is they're able to find women who want them for more than their looks and billions. I have plenty of money in my own right thanks to my inventions and patents, but of course, no one knows that. But though I'm not necessarily horrific to look at, I'm no Tracy.

And that brings me to yet another thought, and my reaction to it surprises me. Speaking of falling for Tracy men, I think, what about Tin-Tin? And why in the world am I thinking about her all of a sudden? That's when it occurs to me why. That's when I am surprised. I miss her. I've not yet been gone a week from Tracy Island, and I miss her. Well, it's logical that I would. After all, she's been my right arm since she survived the bomb placed on Fireflash and came to live with us on the island. As I think about it now, it was actually pretty comical, Jeff putting the two of us together like that as partners. I was extremely shy, of course. She is a very beautiful woman, after all. And she, it turns out, was shy around me as well. Twenty-three days ago she finally told me why she'd been so shy at first. It was because of my reputation, of what Jeff had told her about me.

"I was afraid I couldn't measure up to your mind," she'd said that day in the lab. I had been shocked by her revelation. I have never found Tin-Tin to be anything but a competent and capable engineer, whose assistance has proven invaluable to me over the years. And then there's all that "tutoring" she's given me where women are concerned. I glance back over at Susan noting that while she's not nearly the porcelain doll my assistant is, she's definitely what I consider beautiful. My face flushes, I can feel the heat.

It burns even hotter, if that's possible, when the next thought hits me. Why now, after 31 years of pursuing this impossible goal of discovering my identity, have I been on such an emotional roller coaster with regards to its success or failure? Why have I been feeling these twinges not only of physical wants and needs, but of emotional ones as well? Why have I been feeling the urge to have a family of my own? Perhaps because Jeff and John seem to be on that road right now, and that's brought it to my own mind? A possible piece of the puzzle, but definitely not the entire picture.

Could it be it's because of her? Could this all be because of Tin-Tin Kyrano's influence on me? And that's why, once again, my thoughts turn to my past. And, in a way, to my future. Because I know unless I find the former, I will not be fulfilled in the latter. I feel Susan's hand on my arm. "What?" I ask.

"Whatever happens, Chr-I mean, Brains," she falters and I turn to look at her. Her eyes are large, milky green and warm, and I find myself once again feeling that odd feeling I had when I first shook her hand. "Whatever happens, Brains, I just want you to know that I...I mean, what I'm trying to tell you is..." She sighs in frustration and her hand slides from my arm. I'm a bit lost here, because I have no idea what it is she's trying to convey. "Even with the information from Bob Davis, we still have no idea how close we'll be able to get to your parents' true identities. You must know that."

I nod. "Of course. But that's why I-I'm calling on Lady Penelope. She's quite...resourceful, and has many contacts in England. If anyone can dig over there, she can."

"I know, and I'm hoping and praying that you do find your answers, I really am. I just don't want to see you get...you know."

I look at her. "Hurt?" She nods. And she's right, I can't refute it. But I also can't guarantee right now that if this second lead doesn't go anywhere I won't feel the same as I did the first time I thought it wasn't going anywhere.

"Brains, you don't need to have all the answers in order to live a full and happy life. Just don't forget that."

My head whips around, but she has turned and is looking out the passenger side of the cockpit window. For the next hour my brain is consumed with that simple...yet utterly profound...statement. I wonder if she knows how it's got my mind in overdrive. Had my life on Tracy Island really been so empty? So unhappy? Of course not! I spend hours upon hours doing exactly what I love to do: thinking, inventing, researching. Trying to solve the world's problems. Trying to save more lives.

By the time we're landing at Foxleyheath, I have determined that, logically speaking, Susan's absolutely right. I find myself grateful for her presence and rationality. For her brand of logic.

I can only hope logic wins the next time I'm disappointed.