It was a week before Christmas, and Grandma Tracy and Lady Penelope were in the kitchen on Tracy Island. It was unusual for the two ladies to be hanging out together, but Lady Penelope had a special request that only Grandma Tracy could help her with.
"You want to make Christmas dinner?" Grandma looked her up and down, wondering just what she was expecting.
"Well, yes. When your son asked me to join IR, I didn't know what to expect. Ever since then, I've been on so many adventures—least of all is getting to know this family. I just thought this year I'd like to do something for them."
"Don't they usually go to your Christmas parties every year?" Grandma was still hesitant. She hadn't tried to make them a Christmas dinner in a few years now, not since they installed the kitchen module that did all the cooking for you. Plus that was one meal she did not want to screw up with her bad cooking.
"Yes, but I know they don't necessarily enjoy it." Penelope smiled a little. "At least not all of them."
"Yes, I imagine Alan is still a little young to appreciate formal occasions like that." Grandma couldn't help but smile at the thought of her youngest grandson.
"I think thirty minutes is the longest he's lasted before complaining about being bored."
They both laughed a bit, but it faded out as Grandma thought about the prospect for a moment.
"Well, making Christmas dinner takes a bit of planning. Especially when you had five growing boys to feed." Grandma smiled over at Lady Penelope; maybe this was the year to restart the old traditions. "You sure about this?"
"Yes, I want to do something for them. Something they can enjoy." Penelope herself was hesitant. She hadn't ever tried to cook more than tea and sandwiches. But she wanted to do something special for the boys—they worked so hard all year round. Her mind set, she smiled at Grandma. "I can imagine it would be like feeding a small army."
"Very much so. Honestly, it hasn't changed much. They still eat like a pack of growing boys."
"Well, some are still growing a little." Penelope glanced out to the pool where Gordon was swimming away. He had grown in the time she had known him, turned from a kid into a man without her noticing.
"That is true. I think Gordon might get another half inch before he's done, and Alan—that boy is going to be as tall as Scott, I swear it." Grandma was watching Gordon as well, and at the thought of Alan, looked up toward the game room where he was undoubtedly playing.
Penelope clapped her hands together to bring the meeting back on track. "So, what is the first step? Will we be using the kitchen module? I've used it a little myself—used to sneak down in the middle of the night at home and fix me a snack."
"Hm, you'll have to show me. Still can't quite get the hang of it." Grandma glared back at the machine with a grunt. "No, we're doing this the old-fashioned way."
"Oh!" This took Penelope by surprise. She was well aware of Grandma Tracy's cooking skills, or lack thereof, and she really didn't want to poison the family. But she had already asked and it would very impolite to back out now. Maybe she could discover just what Grandma did wrong in her cooking and help her fix it. Of course, that meant that she would need to start doing some research on her own. And possibly spend some time in the kitchen with her own cook. "Well, then. What is the first thing we need to do?"
"Plan. What are we going to have?" Grandma pulled over one of the LiteTypes that lay around the house and pulled up a list.
"Well, that was one reason I came to you. I want a traditional Christmas, but I'm not entirely sure what that entails for someone from Kansas."
"Ham." Grandma turned and typed the word at the top of the list. That was what they had always eaten and always would—it was also one of the things she could cook without messing it up too much. At least, she thought so.
"Ham?" Penelope looked taken aback by that. Ham had nothing to do with Christmas, how did ham end up on their holiday table? "But what about the turkey?"
Grandma waved a hand at her. "We had turkey three weeks ago. No one wants that again!"
"Oh." Penelope blinked and nodded. "I never thought about that. Is this normal with Americans?"
"I'm not sure about normal, but I think it may be slightly common. I'm sure there are some people that do turkey for both, but shoot, I think Virgil finally ate the last of the turkey yesterday."
"Alright, then. Ham it is. What else?"
"Mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, biscuits, deviled eggs, green bean casserole, yeast rolls, corn—"
"Wait, biscuits and yeast rolls? They're both bread, aren't they?" Penelope wasn't sure if she hadn't slipped some American slang in on her or not.
"Virgil and Scott like biscuits, but the other three like rolls better. Best just to make both and avoid the grumblings." Grandma waved it off and kept going, typing away on the computer. "Cheese ball, sweet potatoes—"
Penelope was hesitant to interrupt again, but this was turning out to be a lot of food. "Don't you already have potatoes, or let me guess. Gordon and John like sweet potatoes?"
"Virgil and John, actually. Let's see, we still need a salad. Alan and John like ranch dressing, Gordon likes a nice vinaigrette, and Virgil and Scott both like blue cheese. Have to have them labeled too. Alan throws the right fit if he gets a taste of the blue cheese. Hates it."
"What about Brains and Kayo?" Penelope couldn't help but notice the lack of preference for the two adopted family members. They were just as important as the brothers, and she didn't want them to be left out.
"Those two will eat anything you put down in front of them. Been trying to figure out their favorites for a long time now. Still no luck."
"Don't you watch what they eat at Thanksgiving and Christmas?"
"Yep, they each take a bit of everything and eat it all."
"Oh, well, then, we've got dinner taken care of." Penelope looked over at the list. This was going to be complicated, but she could bring down a crime ring, surely she could handle cooking.
"Can't forget dessert." Grandma smiled at the aristocrat, seeing that this might be a bit much for her but willing to help her along still.
"Oh, I think I'm already full." Penelope sagged a little. How did they go through all of this food? But then she thought back to her own Christmas parties and the fact that they were always carrying around one or two appetizers from the table when she saw them. Gordon and Alan usually weren't too far from the table itself.
Grandma laughed at Penelope's expression. It was a lot of food, and in the past, they wouldn't have made quite as much, but their routine was't exactly predictable. "The way dinners go around here, dessert usually happens two days later."
"Alright, then, what is for dessert? Pie, I suppose? Do you do mince pies, by chance? I adore those."
"Sorry, don't have them in America. Have tried them, though, quite nice. No, we make real pies. Ones that will serve a dozen people, or five Tracys—depending on the day."
"I see. What kind of pies do they like?" Penelope was a little disappointed at that, but she just made a mental note to ask her cook for some.
"Mainly apple and pumpkin. And then there are the cookies. It will take us a couple days to make the cookies."
"Are they that difficult?"
"Nah, I make them all the time. We're just going to make a lot of them. Doesn't help that just as we make them, they get eaten up. Or thrown in the trash, not sure which is more prevalent."
"Trash?" Penelope was shocked. Surely they wouldn't openly throw them away.
"Well, not so much in the trash, but under the couch, or in a plant. Found some in Virgil's piano once." Grandma laughed a little at Penelope's expression. "Oh, I'm not proud of it, and I know they try not to hurt my feelings, but hey, I'm not the best cook."
Penelope frowned at this. Grandma Tracy was the first grandma she me has met that didn't cook. Grandmas were supposed to be the best, having had years to perfect the art. "If I may be so forward…"
"Give it to me, I can take solid hits."
"Why do you think that you can't cook?"
"Because I never really had to in the past. It was Grant that did all the cooking, my husband, the boys' grandfather. And then when Lucy came around, well, she was a good cook herself. They took care of the big meals, I helped where I could but usually got shooed out to help watch the boys." She leaned on the counter, crossing her arms and staring up at the ceiling. "When they left us, I took over, did what I could. Can't deny the fact that we ate out a lot the first few years—mostly due to burnt dinners and just plain inedible ones. I've gotten better, believe it or not, but it's just not my thing, I guess."
"Why do you still try? Why not just let the kitchen module do it?"
"Because I can still remember those holidays when everyone was still around and how happy they all were. I think I just want to try and duplicate it as best as I can."
Penelope couldn't help it. She normally didn't hug people, it wasn't really the polite thing to do, but she could see the pain in the older woman's eyes and reached up and pulled her into a light hug. "Well, you've got me this year, so maybe between the two of us, we can make them something special."
Grandma Tracy gave her a light hug back and then reached up and wiped at her eyes. "Alright, we have our menu, let's start planning it out."
"Right. I suppose we need the recipes to figure out what we need to buy. Can't cook without the food and all."
"You've got the right of it." Grandma pushed herself away from the counter and opened up a cabinet in the far corner. It was filled with cookbooks of all kinds, but she pushed away the shiny covers and pulled out an old, tattered binder. It had originally been red—a little bit of the color peeked out from behind the layers of tape that covered it. "This was Lucy's. It has all of her and Grant's favorite recipes in it. I try them now and again, but I'm just so inept, I don't want to ruin their memories too much. But with you, my dear, maybe we can find something in here to use." She laid the binder down and carefully opened it. The pages were yellowed and stiff, stained with all sorts of things from years of use.
They spent the next hour going through the recipes, picking out the ones that looked the easiest and some that were just the go-to ones—in other words, the dirtiest pages in the book. Once the recipes were in order, Grandma pulled the LiteType over again and started filling the shopping cart with a grocer on the mainland they liked to use.
"Two six-pound hams," Grandma announced as she added them to the cart. That was always the first thing—because one year she had forgotten.
"Two? Wouldn't one be more than enough?"
"Possibly, but more often than not, when they are called out on a rescue they take a piece or two with them—easy to carry, so I always try to have plenty. Also, John and Scott don't really like sweet ham, so I get one sweet and one regular."
"Okay, two, then." Penelope looked down at the recipes that were laid out on the counter. "We'll also need a pound of macaroni, three dozen eggs—"
"Better make it four. They like eggs in the mornings."
"Eight pounds of potatoes."
"Hope you like peeling them." Grandma smirked over at the lady as she added the potatoes to the cart.
"You peel them by hand?" Penelope's eyes widened at that.
Grandma just laughed. "Ha! Got ya! No, MAX usually helps with that. He's quite good in the kitchen."
"Oh, good."
"Now the carrots are another matter, he can't hold onto them too well."
"Oh." Penelope slumped a little at that.
"I never said there wasn't going to be some hard work. A big dinner takes time and effort."
Penelope straightened up at that. "Yes, I will do whatever you need me to."
"Good." Grandma smiled as she continued to work on loading up her order.
Penelope watched as she placed one thing after another into the cart, glancing occasionally to their list, making sure they would have enough.
"Uh, Mrs. Tracy. Why are you putting that in there?" Penelope was pointing at a red box that she had just added to the cart.
"What? The Arm and Hammer? You need it for the cookies."
"Oh, um. Well, I don't actually see it on the list."
"Yes, it is. These two items here. The baking soda and baking powder." She reached over and pointed to prove her point.
"Oh, but, I mean, aren't those different things in the first place?"
"Are they? I thought they were the same thing. And when I asked about it, one of my old friends just told me to get some Arm and Hammer stuff and I'd be fine."
"Did this friend of yours do much baking?"
"Oh, well, no. That might have been an issue." Grandma frowned as Penelope took control of the computer module and did a little search.
"As I thought. They are quite different. Baking powder does have baking soda in it, but that is the only similarity." Penelope tried her best not to smile. "As for what you have in the cart, I'm afraid that is just all wrong."
"But it's Arm and Hammer."
"Yes, that is its brand name, but Ms. Tracy, it says here that baking soda is used all over the place. From toothpaste to detergent, and I'm afraid foot powder as well."
"Foot powder?" Grandma took her glasses off, cleaned the lenses, put them back on, and squinted at the screen. "It does say that, doesn't it?"
"Yes, it does." Penelope couldn't help a small giggle.
"I guess that explains the mumbles about things tasting like feet." Grandma gave a good laugh as well. This would improve things quite a bit.
"Yes, I'm sure." Penelope took up the tablet that had their list on it and took a closer look at it. "Also do we really need four gallons of milk? By my calculations, one would be plenty."
"When John is down, he likes to make pancakes. Uses a lot of milk, so trust me, it will get used."
"Oh, well, otherwise, I think we're good. Nothing else seems out of place." Penelope smiled as she laid the tablet back down.
"Right, then, order is sent, and we'll get an alert when it is ready to be picked up."
"Parker and I should be able to do that."
"I'd appreciate it. The boys have been so busy as of late."
"A lot of bad weather in the north, I hear."
"Record snow, ice, you name it."
"Hopefully things will calm down before Christmas."
"Here's hoping."
It was Christmas Eve and all was quiet on Thunderbird 5. The days leading up to Christmas were always a hit or miss. Some years, it was the busiest time of year, and others the quietest. This year was shaping up to be the latter, and he was grateful for it. Maybe they'd be able to enjoy Penelope's Christmas party the whole way through for once. Though that thought reminded him that he hadn't actually gotten the invitation yet. It wouldn't be the first year they didn't get officially invited until the last moment—Penelope just assumed they would be there most of the time.
He was just reaching to the holo comm to ask her himself when it beeped and his oldest brother's torso appeared before him.
"John, we have a situation."
"Um, isn't that supposed to be my line?" John blinked as the hologram zoomed out to include the whole lounge. All of his brothers were there, including Kayo and Brains. "What's going on?"
"Grandma is cooking." Scott was grave in his tone, and that only caused John to worry a little more than was usually necessary. Their grandma was always trying to cook. What made this different?
"And you'll all avoid it like usual and make a run to the mainland for some burgers. So?"
"No, John. She's making Christmas dinner."
There were some mutual groans from the lounge as he looked at his brothers' expressions. This truly was a situation. "What about Penelope's Christmas party? We always go there for Christmas."
"She's not having it this year, which I was kind of happy about. But I think even I would rather deal with that boredom than try and eat whatever Grandma is cooking." Alan was sitting on the couch upside down, his head hanging off the edge, looking up at John.
"Have you tried calling Penny? Maybe we can get her to change her mind." John's hand was already reaching out for one of the other comms to contact his friend, but the look on his brothers' faces stopped him. "What aren't you telling me?"
"Pen is helping." Gordon slouched down on the couch, almost falling all the way to the floor.
"Helping?" John wasn't quite sure he understood the word. He knew the definition, but it wasn't fitting right within the context of the situation. "Does Penny know how to cook?"
"We were hoping you had the answer to that." Virgil was standing next to Scott now, his hand on the elder's shoulder. "I wouldn't think an aristocrat such as herself would have had much experience in the kitchen, but well, you know her better than we do."
"I would think Gordon would be the one to know her best."
"The closest I've ever seen her to a kitchen is when she's walking past our own to get to the pool, and even that's an assumption. Never actually seen her walk through, she's just suddenly there, next to the pool..." Gordon's words faded off as his mind wandered.
Alan had righted himself and was waving his hand in front of Gordon's face. "Nope, we've lost him."
"Come on, John. Surely you'd know if she can cook. You guys hung out for a few years in college, didn't you?" It was Kayo this time, her hands on her hips.
"In the dorms, we ate out of the dining halls. When she wasn't in a dorm room, she was living out of one of her family's houses, which were fully staffed. Sorry, as far as I know, she's never cooked in her life."
"We're doomed." Virgil threw his hands up into the air and flopped back down onto the couch.
"I-I can have MAX go down and spy on them." Brains had his hand to his glasses, already flipping through menus. "Except they've already put him to work peeling potatoes and told him not to relay anything to me. S-sorry."
"Not your fault, Brains." Scott started to pace the floor. "We need to think of a plan. Some way of switching out their food for some store-bought stuff."
"Why don't we try trusting them?" They all looked up to John who just raised his eyebrows in question. "Penny knows that Grandma isn't the best cook. I doubt she went into this blind. She probably did some research and knows the basics."
Alan groaned. "Knowing isn't the same as doing."
"'Fraid I'd have to agree with Alan on this one." Kayo let her hands drop to her sides. "Maybe I can get a hold of one of my distant relative and crash there."
"Take us with you, Kayo!" Alan was on his knees in front of her.
"Alan, knock it off." Virgil pulled the youngest to his feet and sat him back down next to Gordon. who was still in a daydream.
"I'm serious. Let's trust them. See what happens."
"The last thing we need is for all of us to get sick and someone needs rescuing." Scott was standing still again, his arms crossed.
"Let me ask you this. Do you smell anything burning?"
Scott was hesitant in his answer, sniffing at the air. "Well, no."
"Any odd scents at all?"
"No." He was deflating a little.
"Then trust them. If you start to smell something weird, as in bad weird, then let me know. Till then, leave them be." John shut off the comms and floated for a moment in the sphere. "EOS. Scan the island. Is there anything unusual going on?"
"No, John. All scans are normal."
"Good. I just hope I'm not wrong."
"Would you like me to continue scanning and let you know if I find an anomaly?"
"No. Just let them be. I'll find out tomorrow one way or another."
–
It was Christmas morning. The sun was just making its appearance, and there was a warm breeze floating through the villa that was nice but just odd. Penelope was so used to the cold of England at this time of year that it didn't quite feel like Christmas. However, the sight of the large tree in the lounge, presents overflowing from underneath it, quickly fixed that issue. Parker was snoring on one of the couches, having arrived with her gifts to the family at some point during the night. He had spent the previous day delivering presents to various charities all over the world—something Penelope usually took care of, but he had volunteered this year so that she could help with the meal.
"Happy Christmas, Parker," she whispered as she laid one final present down next to him.
She made her way down to the kitchen, where she could already hear some talking and could smell something quite delightful.
John was in the kitchen, a tumbler of coffee in one hand, leaning on the counter talking to Gordon. Gordon was sitting at the counter, a heaping plateful of pancakes half eaten before him. John looked up as Penelope descended the stairs and smiled. "Merry Christmas."
"And a happy one to you as well." She smiled as she took the seat next to Gordon and poked him in the side to get his attention.
"Ah! Pen! You have to try some of John's pancakes! They're the best!" Gordon's mouth was half full and dripping with syrup.
"I think I shall, but not near as much as Gordon, please."
"Two for the lady." John smiled as he turned to the stove, dropping the tumbler on the floor and looking up when he heard it hit. "Dang it." He sighed heavily as he bent over and picked it up, setting it carefully on the counter.
"How do you cook when you don't know your up from your down?" Penelope laughed a little as she watched John struggle with his coordination.
"Didn't you know, it's breakfast and a show." Gordon chuckled as John cursed again as he dropped the spatula and was forced to wash it for the umpteenth time. "How about a Christmas kiss?" Gordon leaned in but was stopped short by Penelope's hand on his shoulder.
"How about you clean up first?" she suggested, handing him a paper napkin that sat on the counter.
"Ah, yeah. Sorry." He wiped his mouth, but the kiss was forgotten as he dove in for more of his pancakes.
"Here we go." John was back, careful as he set the plate in front of Penelope. The two pancakes had been topped with a slab of butter, some powdered sugar, a dab of whipped cream, and a couple of raspberries.
"It looks wonderful. Where did you learn to cook like this?" Penelope was already drizzling some syrup on them.
"Grandpa Grant taught me." John smiled. "He would always make breakfast for us while Mom was busy getting everyone woke up. And keeping Gordon out of the presents."
"What?" Gordon popped his head up, his mouth dripping with syrup again. "I like shiny stuff."
"Gordon, your mouth." She handed him another napkin.
He just smiled at her and took it. "I don't remember the pancakes though."
"You were only two or three." John smiled a little, but it was a sad one, Penelope could see.
She took a quick bite and smiled, swalling before she spoke again. "I think your grandfather would be proud. These are quite lovely."
"Thanks." John's smile warmed a bit. "I noticed that you and Grandma have the refrigerator quite packed. Plan on feeding an army, are you?"
"Two, in fact." Penelope smiled around another bite of food. "Lunch and dinner for the rest of the year, I expect."
"You have seen him eat, right?" John was pointing to Gordon, who was busy licking the syrup off of his plate. "Honestly, how do you take him anywhere nice?"
Penelope looked over at Gordon and sighed. She grabbed a damp dishtowel that John had used to wipe the counter off and took Gordon's chin in her fingers. "To be truthful, a stern lecture beforehand and a lot of hand swatting." She worked on cleaning him up like a little child but couldn't help but smile.
"Don't forget the kicking. She's always kicking my leg."
"That's not kicking, that's playing footsie."
"Wow, you play rough, then." Gordon's smile took on more of a smirk.
"Only with you, dear." She smiled back, throwing the towel in his face.
"And this is way more than I wanted to know about you two." John laughed as he held his hands up.
They all laughed as Gordon finished cleaning his face off. "How about that Christmas kiss now?"
She looked him over carefully before leaning in and pecking him on the cheek.
"Aw, is that all?"
"It's morning. We'll have time for more later." She stood up and walked around the counter to stand in front of John. She had to reach up on her toes, but she took his face in one hand and pulled him down so she could give him a quick peck too. "Happy Christmas to the both of you."
John blushed a little but smiled.
"Are you dating John now?" Alan was standing at the bottom of the stairs, his pajamas still on, Scott and Virgil behind him.
"Alan! Pancakes!" John blurted, embarrassed as he tripped on his own foot trying to walk over to his cooking station.
"No, darling. Just giving him a little Christmas present." She walked over to Alan and leaned over, giving him a small peck on the forehead.
"Oh, umm… thanks," Alan squeaked and then cleared his throat as he hurried over to the counter.
"And one for each of you as well." She had to reach up again to peck Scott's cheek, but Virgil leaned down for her.
"Oh, giving out kisses, are we?" Kayo asked as she and Brains appeared on the stairs, followed by Grandma.
"Absolutely." Penelope smiled as she gave Kayo a kiss and couldn't help but giggle at Brains when he received his.
"R-really, you d-don't n-need to." He blushed from head to toe, she was sure.
"So, how do you think they're feeling about the food?"
"Oh, they are petrified." Penelope smiled as she gave Grandma a kiss as well.
They laughed as they ate their breakfast and quickly made their way upstairs to the presents. It took them no time to turn the room into a trash dump, but everyone was happy with what they had been given.
Virgil played the piano for them while they sang some carols. Penelope snuggled a little with Gordon as he hummed along—the music gene seemed to have skipped him altogether. Alan played with a new video game while the others either sang or talked. So far it was turning out to be quite the quiet Christmas.
–
"Alright. Time for dinner!" Grandma was at the top of the stairs while Penelope was laying out the last of the food for the first round of Christmas dinner.
It wasn't perfect, but she thought they had done a pretty good job. Nothing was burnt—though the macaroni and cheese had come close. Mashed potatoes were a little runny—too much sour cream and butter, she thought. The sweet potatoes were possibly a little too sweet, but she had stopped Grandma from using the salt instead of sugar, so it could have been worse. The green beans were possibly a little overcooked. The deviled eggs were messy, but she thought they tasted okay, and the hams were hot and juicy—she had discovered that Grandma liked to cook them a bit too long and tended to dry them out. Penelope even remembered to label the salad dressing, and the rolls and biscuits were both a light golden brown.
Grandma Tracy was beside her now, her arm looped through Penelope's as they watched the family descend the stairs. They were hesitant, but their noses were working, and they seemed surprised as they gathered around the table.
"This… actually looks good." Alan smiled as he sat down and started to pile food onto his plate.
"Yeah, the ham smells wonderful. Oh look, Virgil, biscuits!" Scott was already tossing a few over to his middle brother, who caught them and laid them open on his plate.
"Pass the sweet potatoes, John." Virgil had reached for the bowl, but John had nabbed it before he could.
"The honey ham is on the north side of the table," Grandma announced as she saw Scott reach for the wrong platter. He smiled at her and changed his trajectory.
"Watch out, John, the evil moldy dressing is on the table again." Alan pushed the bowl as far from him as he could—which with the amount of food on the table wasn't far.
"Quit insulting my favorite dressing." Virgil took the bowl and moved it away from his brother, replacing it with the one labeled ranch.
"John, I'm afraid there is a situation." The table quieted down as EOS' ring of lights appeared before them.
"What's going on?" John swallowed his food and wiped his mouth.
"Icy roads, a bridge, and a couple dozen cars." It was all that needed to be said, they could imagine the possibilities.
"All hands!" Scott announced, wiping his own face and standing up. They were all gone in an instant. Even Brains and Kayo had followed the boys to the lounge.
"Alright, dear. Everything that is warm in the oven, set on low—we don't want to cook it any more. If we run out of room, we can put some things in the kitchen module, just don't forget about it. Rolls and biscuits can stay out, everything else in the refrigerator.
Penelope followed her orders, and within ten minutes they were up in the lounge handing out cups of coffee to those left behind. John was at their father's desk organizing the rescue; Brains watching, waiting to see if he was needed. Kayo was gone, presumably to help.
It wasn't a difficult rescue, but still it was five hours before they were all back on the island, cold, tired, and hungry yet again. Penelope and Grandma had the food out and ready by the time they had all landed and they were back again, piling their plates full again, eating what they could before EOS was there again. An avalanche. Twelve hours later, more food, their moods dampened by weariness and stress, but they were still smiling.
The food Grandma and Penelope had made had lasted them to the new year. The wrapping paper had too, untouched from when it had been torn off the presents, the members of IR either eating, sleeping, or on rescues. It was finally as the dawn of the last day of the year cast it's light on the island that they were finally able to rest for a moment.
They were laying around on the couches and chaises that dotted the lounge enjoying the bit of silence that didn't involve alarms or dropped connections.
"Grandma, that was the best dinner ever." Gordon was snuggled up next to Penelope, his broken hand in a cast laying on his chest.
"I couldn't have done it without Penelope." Grandma smiled over at her, and she smiled back.
"Well, I wanted to do something special for you lot. My life is much more exciting than it would have been if I hadn't had met you all."
"I think the same goes for us as well." Scott smiled from where he sat at his father's desk, head resting in his hands.
"Especially me, right?" Gordon looked up at Penelope.
"Especially you, darling." She leaned down and gave him a quick peck on the forehead.
"How about we do this every year?" Alan was on his back, his legs draped over Virgil's lap, his video game above him beeping away. "Those parties are so boring."
"I'm afraid I cannot do that. However, maybe every other year," Penelope suggested, looking around at the family around her.
"Sounds like a good idea to me." John was sitting on one of the other couches, halfway through his new book.
"I'll second that notion." Virgil stretched, the schematics of TB2 on the tablet in one hand with the plans for a repair schedule mapped out on it.
"Oh, I forgot to mention." Penelope smiled a little wider, knowing the reaction she was about to get. "I'm having a New Years party. Tonight. You're all coming."
"Ah man!" Alan rolled over and landed on the ground with a grunt. There were some rolled eyes but no other verbal complaint.
"We'll be there," Scott confirmed. "All of us."
"Good. Now, I must be off. Plenty to do before tonight."
Gordon groaned as he pillow stood up. "Can't you stay a little longer?"
"No, dear. You know how much there is to plan and supervise. No rest for the socialite." She smiled, wished them a Happy Christmas one last time and then was gone.
"Did you like your present, Parker?" They were flying over the ocean on their way home, the low melody of Christmas music still playing over the radio.
"Yes, indeed, m'lady. Just like the one off me first car." He smiled back at her through the rearview mirror.
"We'll get your lucky pack together again, eventually." Penelope smiled.
"I'm sure we will, m'lady. Oh, by the way. There should be something in the compartment for you."
Lady Penelope widened her eyes a little as she opened the compartment. "Oh, Parker."
"Candies from a small shop an hour's drive from Brussels."
"My favorite. Thank you, Parker."
"Always, m'lady."