Mistakes Happen

I don't own any of the characters

Early morning on Tracy Island, Scott Tracy walked into an empty lounge and stretched. His father Jeff Tracy was away for a few days at the London Air Show, leaving him in charge, a duty he took very seriously.

He crossed over to a chair on the far side of the room, a few feet away from the television. To the uninitiated it might seem like an odd place to have one; but at the touch of a button Jeff Tracy's desk slid smoothly down into place. Once it had settled Scott sat down and ran his hands along the edge of the desk like some new, young executive checking out his first office.

And executives make important decisions and Scott knew exactly what his first one was going to be. "International Rescue Space Station. This is Scott Tracy."

No answer.

"Base to Thunderbird Five. Come in, John."

Still no answer.

'Okay Scott, don't panic. There could be 101 reasons why John hasn't answered.' Unfortunately Scott couldn't remember a time when his brother had failed to answer. He knew enough about the workings of Thunderbird Five to know that where ever John happened to be at the time, he couldn't fail to hear the signal. Unless...

"Base to Thunderbird Five! Come in John!"

At that moment Brains arrived. "M-morning, Scott."

"Hi Brains. Can't seem to contact John. Check the radio for me would you?"

"S-Sure, Scott."

As Scott stood he pressed the button 'Action Stations'. His grandmother and Kyrano would ignore it (as they never went out on rescues) and Tin-Tin, acting as Jeff's P.A had gone with him to the Air Show, which just left his three brothers.

As he stood in the centre of the room he looked across at John's portrait. Just what was going on up there? Was this what it was like for his father when they went out on rescue? Nothing to do but sit and wonder what the heck was going on. Time seemed to stand still as the reason why and consequences of no contact played out in Scott's mind.

He was snapped out of it by the arrival of Virgil and Alan doing up the belts of their dressing gowns

"What's up Scott?" asked Virgil.

"Seem to have lost contact with Thunderbird Five."

Gordon arrived; having just come from the kitchen he was carrying a glass of orange juice.

"Technical problem?" offered Virgil.

"I doubt it." put in Alan. "She's only just had her 10,000 hour service."

"Are you saying something's happened to John?"

"At the moment Gordon, I don't know what to think. But if we can't contact him, Thunderbird Three will have to go up there to investigate."

Alan let out a groan; it was too early in the morning.

"I er can find n-nothing to fault Scott. But I er could run a d-diagnostic back at the lab."

"Thanks, Brains."

As Brains stood the eyes of John's portrait began to flash in time with the bleeps. Without waiting to be asked, Brains opened the link.

As soon as John's portrait became his video image, it was obvious why he hadn't answered.

Gordon and Alan began to giggle and Virgil smiled, biting his lip in an attempt not to join them.

John was naked apart from a towel wrapped around his waist, his hair and torso were wet; he had just come out of the shower.

Alan allowed his imagination to run riot. Picturing the scene of John in the shower when the radio went; of his brother panicking, fumbling for a towel and slipping on the soap.

John kept his features dead pan. "You called?"

"Ah. Eh. I was just wondering how things were with you?"

John thought for a moment; he had nothing of interest to report. "Well it's quiet up here. But the Doctor did pop by for a chat. He says hi to everyone."

"Doctor? Who?"

"Exactly."

Alan had another attack of the giggles. He flopped down on the couch, pulled his legs up to his chest and rolled on to his side.

Scott glared at him; it wasn't that funny.

"Is there anything else? Only Captain Kirk will by along shortly and I really should go and put some clothes on."

Virgil could no longer hold it; he let out a laugh. He crossed to Gordon who was in serious danger of spilling his orange juice.

"Okay, okay." Scott put his hands on his hips. "I made a mistake, so sue me."

Virgil tried to sound all business. "Yes Sir. Excuse me Sir. Permission to return to bed Sir"

"Permission granted. And take Mr. Giggles with you."

Virgil, still smiling, crossed over to Alan and tapped him on the shoulder. "Come on soldier. Back to barracks."

Alan uncurled and got to his feet.

They looked at Gordon who was now standing behind Scott with his glass raised. Alan, trying to look innocent, glanced at the floor, whilst Virgil gave the tiniest nod of his head.

Scott closed his eyes as he felt the orange liquid, first in his hair, then down the sides of his face, finally trickling down the back of his neck.

"A-tten-tion!" began Virgil.

All three complied, but it didn't sound quite the same in slippers.

"A-bout turn! Quick match! Left, right, left right, left, right."

When Virgil's voice had faded, Scott opened his eyes. John, somehow, still had the same dead pan expression. No doubt he would have a good laugh about it later.

Scott took a deep breath. "Give my regards to Captain Kirk. Brains, you have the con. If you need me, I'll be in my room." Then gathering what was left of his dignity, Scott left the room.