Title: Chocolate Cake

Chapter: 1 of 3

Summary: The long-awaited sequel to 'Cheesecake.' John is back for revenge, and he needs a bit of help - and something sweet - in order to get it.

Author: Brosle-Cub

Disclaimer: Thunderbirds was created by Gerry Anderson, is the property of Carlton, and is most certainly not owned by me. I am only borrowing the characters - they are not mine.

Acknowledgements: This three-part story is being beta-read by Mad-Friend, and she did a fab job on this first chapter! Thanks so much, pal!

The story is dedicated to Tikatu. It was she who beta-read 'Cheesecake,' and it is also she who is writing the thoroughly enjoyable The White Winds fan fiction, which is living-proof that you can develop characters and add new ones without wrecking the actual fandom.

Everyone, I am so sorry for the delay in this sequel! I'd imagine a lot of people are scratching their heads and wondering what the heck 'Cheesecake' is. I know fully well that 95 of its reviews (all positive, so thanks!) cried out the words, 'John's revenge!' as I implied at the end of the story that there would be. But I suffered from writer's-block, and at the time was more interested in the film than the actual series.

However, one random day a few weeks ago I got my writing-bug back for this sequel, and that in turn led me to watching the series again, which I realise now I was crazy to drift away from. The live movie was good, but the series is F.A.B and will always be the real Thunderbirds.

I hope this story doesn't seem too long compared with 'Cheesecake', which was actually only three pages long. But this is John we're talking about, so I imagine he'd be slowly developing his plot for revenge. Anyway, enjoy.

Chocolate Cake

In the spring of 2027, Gordon Tracy, better known as Troublemaker in Chief, cornered an individual with the hope of stealing a slice of blueberry cheesecake from his grasp. The victim? His older, blonde brother, John Tracy, Space Extraordinaire. John refused to hand the cheesecake slice over, resulting in the break-down of Gordon's sanity. This led to the ultimate price: John was accused of covering the recreation-room wall with pieces of blueberry cheesecake when Gordon attempted to wrestle it forcibly from him. Gordon escaped scot-free without blame, whilst brave John was sentenced to washing the cheesecake off the wall, as well as a week's worth of breakfast, lunch and dinner plates. A jubilant Gordon thought that it had all breezed over as no mention of the incident had been made for over a month.

Boy, was he wrong…

Part 1: Warming Up

"It's the eye of the tiger

It's the thrill of the fight

Risin' up to the challenge of our rivals!"

Gordon glanced up blinking, pressing the pause button on his iPod as Scott skidded into the kitchen, looking around with exaggerated panic written all over his face.

"Do I hear trouble? Terror? Unspeakably horrid things?" He rounded on Gordon, his arms taking on a karate position. The redhead shrugged, and went back to his magazine, turning the volume up on his iPod slightly as he pressed play.

"Just me singing."

Scott took a sharp intake of breath. "Then I'll take that as a yes." Gordon looked up at him, frowning slightly. "Sorry?"

Scott waved one hand around. "Never mind. Oh, you'd better get yourself prepared by the way - remember we're picking up John soon."

"What?" Gordon looked up yet again, now slightly irritated as he struggled to hear what his brother was saying over the music. Scott sighed and just tapped his watch.

"Just be ready at thirteen hundred hours." He then turned on his heel and walked out of the kitchen. Gordon watched him go, before he was struck by a sudden thought and shouted after him, "Oh, by the way, we're going to get John at thirteen hundred hours this afternoon, right?"

"Scott?"

The dark-haired Tracy glanced around. "Yeah, Virg?"

"Why are you banging your head against the wall?"

Scott rubbed his head gingerly. "I've just been speaking to Gordon."

"Oh, I see." Virgil nodded understandingly. Scott merely shrugged.

"I was just going to call John, tell him to get ready."

Virgil frowned slightly. "But Dad called Thunderbird 5 first thing this morning. He knows when you're going with Alan and Gordon to relieve him."

"Just want to check everything's prepared." Scott excused himself before Virgil could ask any more questions and made his way towards the lounge. Checking that nobody was within earshot, he cautiously opened the lounge door and stepped inside. Walking down into the main room, he scanned it and breathed a sigh of relief. Crossing the threshold to his father's empty desk, he pressed the button that linked him to Thunderbird 5 as he sat down in the chair.

"Tracy Island calling Thunderbird 5 – come in, John."

The portrait immediately switched to a live picture of the blonde Tracy brother, who was looking faultlessly attentive, dressed in his uniform and holding a microphone in his hand.

"Go ahead, Scott."

With a quick glance at the door Scott lowered his voice and muttered, "It's OK, I'm alone. I'm calling you with regards to the plan."

"Ah, yes." John's tense frame seemed to relax somewhat as his eyes darted from side to side unnecessarily. "Right. Well, tell me what's happening."

Chancing another quick glance at the door, Scott nodded. "I think everything's in order, and I'm ready to act whenever you give the word…"

"John!" Grinning from ear-to-ear Virgil put his easel down as John, Scott and Gordon emerged from the floor, comfortably seated upon the infamous green sofa. His blonde brother smiled over at him.

"Hi, Virg. What are you painting today?"

Wiping his paintbrush with an old rag, Virgil replied mischievously, "I was thinking of creating maybe some kind of terrible monster – something from the deepest depths of the dankest death-pit in the darkest corner of the universe, something we'd never even dream of facing."

"Why don't you just say you're drawing Gordon?" John quipped.

Virgil and Scott burst out laughing, both at John's remark and at the indignant look on the redhead's face. Even Jeff allowed himself a small chuckle as he stood up to greet his middle son.

"Welcome home, John. It's good to see you, son."

John took his father's offered hand. "It's great to be back, Dad. I'm looking forward to a bit of rest and relaxation.

Gordon stretched himself and stifled a slight yawn. "So long as you're not making any plans to watch Muppet Treasure Island, only I want to see it this afternoon."

John rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "OK, but if I hear you singing 'Love Led Us Here' – " He shuddered at the mental image – "at dinner tonight, then I won't be responsible for my actions, understand?"

Gordon gave a sarcastic smile in his direction. "Thankyou for your words of confidence. Home two minutes and he gives me nothing but grief!" Holding his hands to his heart, he wiped away an imaginary tear. "I can't take it, I tell you! I can't take it! What did I ever do to you?"

"Well, I can name quite a few things," John said meaningfully as Scott and Virgil exchanged glances. Gordon let his hands fall to his sides, looking fed-up.

"Look, how was I to know how heavy that black-boot polish was? Anyway, you got it off, didn't you?"

"After a week of scrubbing, yes. And there are such things as labels, Gordon."

Jeff shook his head at his second-youngest son. "That's Gordon for you, fellas, he'll grow out of it, don't think he won't."

"HA! Oh, er, ahem!" Scott put a hand over his mouth and quickly turned his snort of laughter into an exaggerated bout of coughing. "S'cuse me."

Meanwhile, John glanced at his father, a grim smile on his features. "Oh, yes. Indeed. Very much so."

Virgil busied himself with his portrait, painting a red background. "I'm not even going to comment."

"Good idea," Scott muttered in an undertone, then as Gordon turned to look at him, he quickly began coughing again, "Oh, ahem, ahem (cough cough cough) ahem, 'scuse me!"

Jeff shook his head, resuming his seat. "If anyone sees Brains, tell him I need that report on the Mole as soon as possible. Never know when we might get a call. Oh, and Gordon, since the boys have brought it up, try and control those pranks, okay? Nothing wrong with a bit of good behaviour."

"I'll try, dad." Gordon replied, looking slightly depressed at the prospect. "I don't have any good ideas for a prank at the moment anyway."

Scott's false coughing broke out anew as the pilot's shoulders started shaking.

"Although I think I'm just getting one as we speak," Gordon glared at Scott.

"Scott, go to the sickroom if you've got a bad throat." Jeff glanced at his eldest son before turning his eyes back down to his paperwork. "Gordon, could you ask Grandma to get me some more coffee, please?"

Gordon nodded and left the room. Scott took his hands away from his mouth and attempted a straight face.

"I'm sure he'll behave, Dad. He might behave for an hour, or two. Perhaps a day. Maybe even a week."

Jeff chuckled. "Seems like wishful thinking to me. Still, we'll just wait and see."

"Or maybe even a month or perhaps two." Scott continued, covering his mouth to try and stifle the threatening chuckles.

Jeff looked up, startled, as Virgil's paintbrush slipped and John dropped his bag. "A month or two? Scott?"

"Yeah, Dad?" Amused at his family's reaction, Scott stared straight at his father, no longer able to hide the big grin on his face.

"Scott, for goodness sake, go to the sickroom and have a lie-down."

Gordon yawned as the credits to Muppet Treasure Island appeared on the screen and switched his television off. He stretched out on his bed and closed his eyes, readying himself for a nice mid-afternoon nap. Just as he was on the edge of dropping off there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," Gordon called out, drowsily.

The door slid back and Gordon popped open a sleepy eye. Virgil was framed in the doorway. Gordon smiled lazily, by way of greeting.

"Hello."

"Hi. I'm looking for my music magazine, have you seen it?" Looking around the room, Virgil added, "Where's your catapult?"

Gordon sighed and rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "Alan thought it would be a good idea to give it to his pygmy alligator as a snack."

"What made him do that?"

"Well, I was chasing Tin-Tin with it as a joke - chasing her with the catapult, that is, not the alligator - and Alan managed to get it off me and stupidly threw it into the pygmy's pen. It was alligator-food faster than you can say, 'You crazy nitwit!' He wasn't thinking - well, that's what he said. Anyway, what do you want it for?"

"To take advantage of the situation - you, lying here, without any of your gizmos. I might have had a tomato splattered over your face by now."

Just then, both brothers were distracted as John appeared in the doorway, dressed in damp swimming-trunks with a towel wrapped around his shoulders and a smile in greeting.

"Hey, fellas."

"Sure, John, feel free to splatter water around my room at your leisure," Gordon scowled, sitting up. "Been dipping, then?"

"Oh, yes, I like the cheese-dip best."

Virgil hid his face in his hands. "Not that old joke again." Glancing at Gordon, he added, "He's almost as bad as you."

Gordon sighed. "Is this 'Let's-Make-Fun-Out-of-Gordie' Day? Is it because Alan's not here?"

John started to reply, then hesitated. "Hang on - you've got me there…" Then he shook his head. "Oh, never mind. Hey, do you know if we're doing any shopping-trips soon? Only I'd like to go to the mainland and see a bit of civilisation."

Virgil nodded understandingly. After a month in outer-space, to get back to a tropical island to relax was good, but it was also sensible to go to the mainland in order to get back among the hustle and bustle of the real world. It meant privacy from the family, as well as a healthy and relaxing escape from all the stresses of International Rescue.

"You'd better ask Dad and Tin-Tin about a mainland trip, John," Gordon piped up. "Although I guess they'll say yes. I actually feel like a bit of retail therapy myself." Then his features brightened. "Hey, maybe I could come with you!"

John raised his eyebrows at him. "After what happened last time in that music store, when you were listening to that CD on the store headphones?"

"I was only singing. And jiggling around a bit."

The blonde astronaut nodded at him. "Exactly! How d'you think I felt when that shop attendant came up and asked us none-too-politely to leave? Plus, you might have been recognised!"

Gordon gave a guilty flinch. "Okay, well, I admit, I didn't think of that. If Dad does let me come along, I won't do anything stupid this time."

"An impossible task to achieve." Virgil murmured, making for the door before Gordon could work out what he had said. "Fancy going out on the boat, John?"

"Hm?" John glanced at him. "Oh - no thanks, Virg, I'm sorting something out with Scott. Something important." Well, important to me, anyway, he added silently to himself.

"Oh, okay. Well, don't overwork yourself, John, you've only just got back from outer-space."

"Yeah, I'll be fine, thanks." John nodded quickly in his direction. "I'd better go. See you later, guys." With that he was gone.

"Work on his first day back?" Gordon muttered. "That's just like doing your homework at the start of the summer holidays!"

"Yeah, well, maybe he's in a working mood. Perhaps there's something wrong with Thunderbird Three," Virgil frowned slightly. "If that's the case I hope it's not serious. Perhaps I ought to go and see if I can help."

"You want me to tag along?"

"Nah, you're okay - too many of us might make things complicated. See you later." Virgil left Gordon's room quickly, and glanced down the corridor in time to see Scott walking quickly into John's quarters. The artist frowned slightly.

"Odd. Why don't they do their work in the lab or the study?" He looked at the ceiling for a moment, contemplating his options, before deciding his next move. He strolled down the corridor at a leisurely pace, slowing down when he reached John's door. Moving his ear over to the door, he listened carefully. The door was virtually soundproof, but by listening intently, Virgil was able to pick up the thread of conversation.

"Do we have everything we need?" he heard John say.

"Sure do," Scott replied. "I'm glad Grandma's making a sponge for you tonight. It gives us the perfect opportunity to - strike."

His frown deepening, Virgil moved closer to the door. Then, with classic timing, his cell-phone began vibrating aloud with Beethoven's melodies - Virgil's chosen ring-tone. He quickly checked the screen to see who was trying to contact him and cursed quietly when he saw it was his father. Not wanting to be seen outside John's room listening in, he immediately started for the nearest escape - Gordon's open bedroom door. Diving inside, ignoring the indignant shouts from his younger brother who was still lying on the bed, he quickly pushed the 'Close' button on the inside panel and let out a deep breath as the door slid shut. With an apologetic glance in Gordon's direction Virgil then answered his phone.

"Hello?"

"Virgil? Sorry to bother you, son, but are you in or anywhere near the lounge?"

"Uh, I can go there if you like, Dad," Virgil replied, a question in his voice.

"Oh, sorry, son. It's just I'm by the pool at the moment, and Grandma's settled herself down here, and we're both relaxed, and she's just realised she's left her reading glasses on the balcony table. Be a good boy and fetch them, will you, before they get damaged? Tin-Tin and Kyrano are working in the gardens at the moment, so they can't do it. And tell your brothers to turn their phones back on!"

Virgil nodded vaguely. "Sure, Dad. Be right there." He then terminated the call and with a "turn your phone back on" to Gordon, he jabbed the button. The door slid open. The pilot of Thunderbird Two peeked cautiously into the corridor. There was no sign of either Scott or John so Virgil made quickly for the corridor exit, only realising as he pushed at the lounge door that his redheaded brother was hot on his heels.

"Uh - Virgil?" Gordon found himself ushered impatiently through the door and it was only when it was closed behind them and they were in the main area of the Villa that Virgil explained.

"Scott and John are up to something." Watching his brother's eyes widen with interest, Virgil pointed towards the lounge entrance. "Come with me, I'll explain as we go along…"

Will Virgil and Gordon figure out what Scott and John are up to? Find out, in the next chapter!