Disclaimer: The Thunderbirds are the intellectual property of Gerry Anderson and its affiliates. No profit is made from this story. This is for (hopefully) entertainment purposes only. Any and all original characters belong to my imagination, and last time I checked, that belonged to me.

That's Amoré

Jeff had returned late in the night after a business trip abroad. With a sigh, he glanced at his watch.

Nearly eleven. Hopefully the boys'll be in bed by now.

He was half out of luck. The younger ones, including Virgil, were sound asleep, looks of contentment on their faces. His older two, however, were still wide awake.

John had perched himself on a windowsill, legs swinging idly as he peered through his telescope. It was his most treasured possession and he had a strong connection to it. It was like the telescope was an extension to his hands. The boy was half asleep, his fringe collapsing into slit-like eyes.

"Come on, John," Jeff rumbled, hauling his sleepy sixteen year old up the stairs. "Bedtime. The stars will be there tomorrow."

John mumbled something unintelligible, but Jeff could have sworn he had heard John agree with him.

"Pleasant dreams, son. I'll see you in the morning."

With four of his sons ensconced in the safety of a doona, Jeff traipsed down the stairs and across the corridor towards the recently renovated den. Scott had claimed it as his own when he had turned fifteen a few years ago, stating that he needed privacy and his own area to retreat to time and time again. Jeff had found no reason to object to that, since Scott shouldered most of the responsibility while he absent, but he had made it absolutely clear that the other boys would have to share until there was more room, with Scott and then John leaving for university. Hopefully.

The dim glow of light seeped from underneath the floor and the door, indicating that Scott was still awake.

This did not surprise Jeff; his son took after him. Scott was well used to burning the candle at both ends. Knocking softly on the door, Jeff opened it and poked his head through the gap, without really observing the scene he was seeing.

"Scott, enough of the wor…" he trailed off, astonished by the state of the usually tidy room and his son sitting inert on his swivel chair.

"Hi Dad," Scott said, a dreamy expression plastered over his face, blue eye glowing under the harsh halogen lighting. "It's a beautiful night tonight, isn't it?"

Jeff was lost for words. In recent years, he had never witnessed this son behave this way. An absurd, entirely implausible idea struck his head. Even though he was sure that if he verbalised his thought, Scott would say no, his parental instincts told him that he needed to be sure.

Peace of mind. That's all. My sons would never do something as dumb and reckless as that. Oh well, here goes nothing.

"Scott, as your father, I feel obligated to ask this. Have you taken any alcohol, recreational drugs, any substance I should know about?"

"You're kidding me, right?"

"Humour me." Jeff remained unamused.

"No. No! Absolutely not! That's, like, the dumbest thing you could do! Gimme some credit." Scott paused. "What gave you that idea, anyway?"

"You." Jeff sat down on the unmade bed, raking a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. "You're not yourself tonight. You're not completing homework, you're still awake and you have a vacant expression. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, per se. In fact, things couldn't be better." Scott grinned again.

"Care to share?" Jeff patted the empty space on the bed next to him. Having missed out on so much daily life of his sons due to his rapidly expanding business, Jeff had no inhibitions when it came to making up for lost time. He wanted to know everything that went on in all of his boys' lives.

"Dad," Scott began shyly, twisting a stray chocolate curl around his finger, wincing as his hand brushed against a small bump on his forehead. "How did you know you were in love?"

Jeff squirmed. He had never been good at describing emotions. He had never been good at recognising emotions either. This was more of his mother's, or Lucy's forte. But, they weren't here, so it was up to Jeff to answer his son's question to the best of his ability.

"Well, Scott, there are a few things you have to understand," Jeff started, somewhat uneasily. "There's a fine line between lust and love. To be honest, I think you might be confusing the two."

Scott just crossed his arms, clearly unimpressed with Jeff evading the question. "You haven't answered the question."

Expelling air though his nose, Jeff squirmed some more. He was not used to being put on the spot in this manner. Normally, he was the one that was in control. But this time his eldest son held the reigns to the conversation.

"There's something that wasn't there before," Jeff eventually replied. "When I first met your mother, there was a tap."

"A tap? Seriously? A tap?"

"Yeah. I couldn't stop tapping my foot against the ground. By the end of our first date, I knew it would be foolish to let a woman that amazing slip from my grasp. Listen, Scott, for everyone, it's different. But what makes it love is that once you find that special someone, you wonder how the hell you managed to survive for so long without them. Love is when you look back over the years and realise you wouldn't have it any other way, because it was perfect. You know it's love when everything you do, with the best of intentions is right, even if it doesn't work out that way. As long as you treat people right, you will always find that they love you for it. At the very least, they respect you for it. That's the one lesson I want you to absorb from this. Understand?" Jeff paused, letting the message sink in. He chuckled lightly, adding, "I guessing that as a Tracy man, you fall hard and fast. So, who's the unlucky person?"

"Unlucky?" Scott echoed, mock outrage evident in his voice.

"Careful, Scott, you're beginning to sound like an echo," Jeff teased; ruffling Scott's mussed up and twisted curls. "So, come on, tell me. No, wait, let me guess. You just had your first date with the aforementioned person, right?"

Scott nodded in agreement, letting his mind wander back a few hours. His date had made him happier than he had been for a while, and since he had returned, he had been walking on air. "It was fun, Dad. We ate, we watched a movie, I walked her home and we sat outside for a while and talked and laughed. It was perfect."

Jeff lightly prodded the bump on Scott's forehead. "If it was that much fun how did you end up with this? Did she deck you one?"

"No," Scott replied, an embarrassed blush creeping up his cheeks. "I missed a step and tumbled down her porch stairs after saying goodnight."

Scott must be the only man that takes the idea of falling head over heels in love literally.

Jeff stood up, stretching the muscles in his back while instructing his son to go to sleep. He headed to the door and flicked the light switch. "Scott, one more thing," he added. "The feeling you get, as though you are on cloud nine? That's amoré."

"Dad?"

"Yes, Scott?"

"If love is what you said it is, I think I'm in love."