Author's Notes:

Spoilers for "Deep Search" and "City Under The Sea".

I've decided to dip my toes into the pool on Tracy Island. After having (evilly) dragged Corby into the fandom, I finally got my act together (a.k.a. I had time off work) to write. It's my first foray here; hopefully I've done these wonderful characters some justice.

This was born from a sense of frustration with "Deep Search" and "City Under The Sea", and (to my mind) the portrayal of Gordon as no longer as competent as he's previously been. What started out as a funny little bit of fluff stalled for a few weeks, and then took a sharp detour during a recent trip. It ended up somewhere very different to my first intention.

My deepest gratitude goes to Corbyinoz. She is not just an amazing writer (and beta), but a dear friend who has been there through thick and thin, and a relentless cheerleader to get me to shift my creative butt out of neutral.

Thanks also to Sylvia and Gerry Anderson for creating such a wonderful world to play in. I own nothing but a vivid imagination and a lot of candles.

Denied

Sun?

Bliss.

Warm tropical air?

Bliss.

Swimming in the ocean off Tracy Island for the first time in a month?

Bliss.

Stretched out on a couch in the conversation pit on Tracy Island, tossing and missing with empty Celery Crunch wrappers at a trashcan strategically placed almost outside his range for the hell of it? Just because he could?

Watching it bounce off the rim and fall to the floor?

"De-nied."

Bliss.

Because it proved he was no longer cooped up in quarantine with Alan as they had been for the last month after rescuing the Pendergasts; he no longer had to try to maintain his cardio fitness in the claustrophobic confines of Thunderbird Three; he didn't have to meditate with the muted roar of Three's engines and hiss of recycled air intruding; he didn't need to keep up the pretence of being a brat by letting squirty cheese float across at Alan or binge watching all thirteen seasons of "Into The Unknown" over and over and over….

Yeah, Gordon had to admit his efforts at being aggravating to try take his little brother's mind off the excitement and stress of his first mission command had put a major dent in his own adoration of "Into The Unknown". He could handle a break from the show for a month… or seven.

It was weird, a submariner, a former member of WASP, Thunderbird Four's pilot finding Three's cockpit claustrophobic. It took him the entire month to work out why.

The stars. Oh they were pretty and all, and Earth was every bit as beautiful as it looked in the AVX films and photos but it wasn't the same as under the ocean. No Stauroteuthis syrtensis with its rows of flashing photophores attaching itself to Four's viewshields, no vampire squid with their deep red eyes drifting past, no Cuvier's beaked whale playfully diving in tandem with Four past 2,500 metres.

Weightlessness? Pfft.

In short, space was boring. And dull. And stuck inside Three's cockpit which was larger than Four's almost drove him up the wall, especially having to be so damn particular about every little thing he did. That cheese he squirted at Alan? Got into his hair too. The toothpaste he'd artfully squeezed into creative figures? He'd ended up rubbing some of it in his eyes after he'd recaptured it. Youch. The water he'd squirted in an arc to imitate the shower of meteors they'd seen in the distance? It had shorted out the heating and ventilation panel meaning they spent a very chilly three hours as Alan painstakingly repaired the entire thing.

Space. Neat-freak dull. OCD clean boring. Mister Sparkle Yawnworthy.

Which was why Gordon was enjoying being a slob, something he never indulged in outside of his bedroom, lobbing empty wrappers at a trashcan that was deliberately just on the border of how far he could throw them. So far his success rate was 11 out of 14.

He scrunched up the empty wrapper of the Spiralized Carrot Twists he'd just finished and tossed it through the air, hoping that this one would land in the elusive Trashcan of Freedom.

It too fell short.

Make that 11 out of 15. "De-nied," Gordon turned away, superior in the knowledge that if he'd wanted it to go in, it would have.

Which of course was when one of the island's resident neat freaks chose to enter stage left, Virgil padding along behind her looking bemused.

Kayo picked up the errant Spiralized Carrot Twist wrapper.

"Aren't you going to pick this up?" Their resident Ms Sparkling Clean 2060 contestant tilted her head signalling Gordon's impending doom.

"Busted." Virgil displayed a level of disloyalty unbefitting someone denied Gordon's witty company for the past month. Now that Two was ready for missions again, Gordon needed to plan an appropriate prank as payback.

Gordon loftily ignored the traitor, addressing Ms Sparkling Clean 2060.

"Of course I was." Indignation was never so sincere. " You don't think a responsible member of International Rescue would leave trash lying around do you?" With the natural superiority of the wronged, Gordon looked away. "Sheesh, who do you think I am?"

"A slob comes to mind." Dryness was Kayo's middle name, Gordon was sure of that. She tossed the wrapper blindly over her shoulder, getting a hole in one first go. Gordon chose to believe it was only because she was within a foot of the trashcan that she was successful. It had nothing to do with skill.

Kayo was saved from Gordon's witty comeback by IR's alarm sounding. He had one right there, right on the tip of his tongue, ready to devastate Her Cleanness with his razor sharp observation.

John's avatar appeared, gazing down at Gordon.

"International Rescue, we have a situation."

"Tell me what you've got Thunderbird Five." Gordon leapt up from the sofa as The Traitor and Ms Sparkling Clean 2060 descended the stairs.

"A distress signal from Bay City. Looks like a family is trapped in a rental sub near the ocean floor. I was able to contact the sub via their internal camera."

Greying hair and large hands appeared in a video window next to John, the shot adjusting until it showed a middle aged man and young girl standing near by.

"International Rescue? Er, hi, Ethan Sullivan here."

'Nice shirt,' Gordon thought, appreciating the retro Hibiscus Aloha shirt and wondering where he could get his hands on one. Something to ask Ethan once he had the family safely situated on Thunderbird Two. Glancing at Virgil from the corner of his eye, Gordon was struck with an inspirational thought. Plaid Man could do with a lesson in how to dress for a tropical island. His attention snapped back to the avatar in front of him as Ethan Sullivan and his cool retro Aloha shirt continued.

"Er, we really would appreciate a little help." The small child behind Ethan grabbed his arm.

"Tell them about the Monster!"

Monster? Gordon shared a look with Virgil, allowing his eyes to drift down to his brother's faded shirt with its frayed collar. His attention back on the screen as Ethan Sullivan began to speak again.

"Lettie, Daddy's talking. Er, hate to be a bother but the rental agency won't send a tow sub, something about off limits and waiver of liability and a bunch of other legal nonsense..."

"But the monster!"

"Lettie, there's no monster."

"Um, it looks like a monster to me." The video jolted, adjusting the line of sight outside the sub, up, up until-

"That's not a monster, it's the Mechanic." Gordon's attention jerked to Kayo in surprise. How on earth did Kayo get that from the dark shape silhouetted by sunlight in the distance?

"And that building, why does it look so familiar?" Gordon glanced at Virgil before looking back at the building in surprise. He had to admit, it did look vaguely familiar.

Speaking of someone who could use a wardrobe makeover, John as always had the answer. "It's the Creighton-Ward building."

Penny's family? How many other Creighton-Ward's were there in this world. Why hadn't Penny ever mentioned it previously? Was she so upset she felt she couldn't talk to him- er them, he meant them, definitely them- about it?

Goosebumps ran up Gordon's spine and along his skin. Air-con must be too cold. Must speak to Brains about that.

"As in Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward?" He looked towards Virgil again. "Why would The Mechanic be interested in that?"

"Exactly what I want to know. I'll contact Lady Penelope, you three get to the crash site." John made to close out the coms link.

"Wait! 'You three?' Underwater rescue is MY thing!" Gordon protested. No way could he share Four, not on his first mission back. It would be cramped enough with the entire Sullivan family in it if he needed to carry them as it was.

Virgil turned to him with those big expressive eyes. Eyes that needed to be trademarked as lethal weapons, they could get a brother to do almost anything. Scott especially was susceptible to them. Putting a hand on Gordon's shoulder, Virgil looked at him with sincerity, empathy, compassion... those eyes would look good with an emerald green retro Aloha shirt….woah! Dude! Where was his head at, picking out shirt colours for Virgil?

"But sneaking up on bad guys is HER thing," The Eyes said. He looked into those eyes again. How could he deny those eyes anything? Dazed Gordon could only agree.

"You have a point there."

What the? Cursing himself for losing his focus Gordon moved past The Eyes towards Kayo.

"Finally, a chance to see you in action."

"Yeah, finally." He loved Kayo like a sister but he really didn't want or need to have her with him in Four on this mission. Seriously she'd be critiquing everything he did, passing comment if Four wasn't sparking clean in that obsessive-compulsive manner of hers, judging how he handled every miniature of the mission, probably making notes in a little black e-pad ready to swoop in and give him feedback on the small oil smudge near the emergency medical locker, watching how he rescued the family and probably reporting back to Grandma the smallest infraction of her strict book of What Not To Do To Open Yourself To Danger On A Mission by Ruth Tracy, Mother of World Famous Mars Astronaut Jefferson Tracy and Grandmother of Five Risk Taking Grandsons….

Ms Sparkling Clean in close proximity for three or so hours, or however long the mission took. He was fucked, well and truly fucked.

Gordon moved towards One's wall sconce. Four was in its underwater tank, so time to catch One's lift down past Scott's exit and on to the deep-water chute in preparation for lifting his machine onto the module harness. It was a drag sometimes remembering where Four was and which gear up exit he needed to take. More than once he'd gotten half way down the slide near Dad's desk and remembered instead he'd needed to go down Scott's carousel of barf.

The automatic gear up machine did its thing complete with putting his helmet on, before the deep-water chute shot him into the ocean water tank. He glided to Four's rear doors, entering the small cabin and initiating the pumps to drain water out before taking his helmet off, and then making his way through the evac-tube compartment. As was his habit at the beginning of a mission he grabbed a handful of Celery Crunch, Mini Tomato Pops and Spiralized Carrot Twist packets from the mini fridge in Four to munch on and build up his energy.

He stuffed the first crunch bar into his mouth, absentmindedly tossing the packet and ruminated on the unfairness of his life. A whole month of enforced cleanliness in Three with a younger brother suddenly super responsible, and now his first mission he had to share his 'Bird with Ms Sparkling Clean 2060.

Hitting Four's start up sequence, he manoeuvred his 'Bird towards the top of the tank and the waiting cradle that would lift him into Module 4. Neat Freaks surrounded him, in space, in the bedrooms on either side of his on the Island and in their Kansas home, and now invading Four.

Seriously. Was it too much to ask if he could actually have some time to commune with his 'Bird for this mission? Some time where he didn't have to worry about, oh pick a random topic - spilling orange juice on the Thruster Control of Three for example! Ripping the next Celery Crunch packet open with his teeth, he tossed the packet and stuffed the bar into his mouth, grabbing a third packet as he watched the arms of the cradle descend towards him.

The cradle gently settled under Four's body and began to lift them out of the water. A fourth wrapper, this time Mini Tomato Pops was tossed aside as his 'Bird slid into its large module. Really people just needed to calm the heck down, unclench those pert buttocks, forget the squeegee mops and dusters and chill for a bit. Except he knew it would only get worse. The approach of December meant Grandma would seen be on her end of year cleaning frenzy, as opposed to any of the other cleaning frenzies she had during the year. No place on the Island would be safe.

Shit – almost December… that meant Christmas was only just over a month away. He needed to get his act together.

He could start by getting Plaid Man a retro Aloha shirt or ten – maybe in red so it wasn't too much a shock to ditch the checks. John needed to loosen the hell up too and turf the beige. Deep turquoise surfer shirts would be a good look on him, along with navy boardies… although everyone would need to wear sunnies to combat the glare of space-white legs. Better get Factor 50+ sun block to stuff John's Christmas stocking with.

Speaking of unclenching pert buttocks, Gordon tried to picture Kayo in a retro hibiscus print pareo but failed. Nup, didn't mix with the self defence lessons and the boxing bouts, not to mention the obsessive neatness.

Lady P however… a fine soft pink sarong with a hot pink hibiscus behind her ear, pink string bikini…. now that was a look he could get behind.

Wrenched from his daydream by the clang of Thunderbird Four's clamp locking her in place in her module, Gordon hurried outside in time to meet Kayo on Two's elevator platform.

They rode up the elevator platform in silence, each adjusting their gear. Glancing at Kayo, Gordon narrowed his eyes. He knew that cheeky, half superior smile of Kayo's. It meant she was up to something, felt supremely confident and was about to wrong foot someone.

All in all, whatever she was thinking, he knew that that something was unlikely to do with Virgil who Kayo regarded, along with Grandma as the steady rock of the family and sensible, beyond her usual dry and sly comments.

So that meant ….. Kayo strode forward and slipped elegantly into the co-pilot seat of Two.….it couldn't be good for Gordon.

Glaring at the back of two dark heads, Gordon slid into the chair behind Plaid Man and buckled in for take off. He spent launch ruminating on the unfairness of it all, especially when The Traitor allowed Ms Sparkling Clean 2060 to announce Two's launch.

Clean freaks banding together everywhere. Even Plaid Man's art studio up in the Round House in the Island was as tidy as his workshop in the hangars.

"Gordo, we are coming up on position. Time for you two to get into Four and get ready for deployment."

"Time to show me what you've got, Four." Kayo joined him on the elevator platform just before it began its descent to the module entrance.

Meeting her challenging gaze with a steely eyed one of his own, Gordon squared his shoulders and opened the hatch to his sub and waved Kayo in first.

Okay, time to put his game face on. Time to show Kayo exactly what a professional aquanaut could do, time for Kayo to understand he was every bit as experienced, proficient and focused as his brothers.

Gordon swung into the cockpit of Four. Time for Kayo to learn that Gordon had …..wrappers strewn around the floor of the submersible.

Fuck.

Okay.

Right. Yup, he'd forgotten about them.

Okay. Deep breath, Gordo. You can do this.

Ignoring the debris, Gordon launched his 'Bird into the depths. He summoned up his awesome sense of chutzpah.

"Thanks for the lift, Virgil. Thunderbird Four is Go. Heading for the downed sub."

Gordon expertly skirted a pod of dolphins, watching them migrating towards the surface. As often as he saw them, he never tired of the sense of joy they brought to him.

"Wow," Kayo deadpanned.

"Go ahead, just say it." He watched his dolphins, as they seemed to almost skip away across the ocean surface.

"Gordon Tracy, you are a secret slob."

Gordon looked down at the floor of the sub. Shit. Time for Gordon Tracy's School of Cool.

"Oh, the wrappers? What can I say? Scott's always at me about my room. This is my own personal domain." Time to play the brat card and put Kayo in her place.

"You ever had one of these Celery Crunch bars?" He offered her a half chewed bar off the floor. "They're not bad!"

Kayo couldn't back away from the soggy green stick fast enough. "I'll take your word for it."

Gordon smugly dropped the limp celery stick into the waste container.

Gordo 1. Ms Sparkling Clean 0.

TBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTBTB

"Okay Gordo, you want to tell me what that was all about?"

Gordon looked up from contemplating the endlessly rolling waves born over the horizon. Virgil was walking across the sand, his work boots left on a rock on the edge of the beach.

"Er, hello? Come again? What exactly am I telling you about, Virge?"

Virgil dropped to the sand next to Gordon, jeans rolled up and red checked shirt open to reveal his t-shirt underneath – Virgil's version of admitting it was a hot and humid afternoon. The man never broke a sweat.

"The whole damn rescue, Gordon. The letting Kayo ram the Sullivan's sub with Four while you were still in the path of it? The wrappers everywhere but in the trashcan at home and all over the floor of Four. The 'don't scratch it' or 'I didn't know Four could do that!' comments."

"Oh, that." Gordon looked out across the ocean again, its depth starting to reflect the golden sunset. "I suppose Kayo told you?"

"I could hear most of it myself, Gordon. Plus, Kayo told me she thought you were acting out of character – not the professional she knew and expected in Four. Wanted to know what she'd done to upset you."

Gordon sat in silence, contemplating what he was feeling, what to say first. Did he want to admit to the truth? Would Virgil guess if he wasn't telling the truth? Who was Gordon kidding, this was Virgil who knew him better than he knew himself sometimes.

"Ever feel like you're superfluous?"

"With four over-achieving brothers and a sister in all but blood who can kick my butt without breaking a sweat?" Virgil snorted. "All the time."

One thing John and Virgil could do any day was beat all of their brothers at patience, themselves excluded. Gordon could tell by the way Virgil settled back into the sand that he was committed to outlasting his younger brother.

Gordon had patience to burn himself on missions, when he was underwater studying aqua flora and fauna, when he was waiting for that next wave. But he was never any good outwaiting John or Virgil when either of them was of a mind to find out what the issue was. Scott and Alan – easy. Wave the proverbial shiny bauble in front of them and count to five. "Scott, did I mention I strained my back hauling that guy to safety?" Bam, Gordon would be in the infirmary for a check-up faster than Gordon could recite all his brothers' full names, issue avoided. "Alan, I think Seamus Brock is a far better racing car driver than Roberto Bianchi" would always lead to a half hour lecture on the superiority of Italian formula one drivers. The original topic of discussion long forgotten.

John and Virgil? Never happen. Shiny baubles never worked. How could they? No one ever warned young Gordon about the power of those compassionate deep brown eyes, or the deadpan John-face that could outlast an ice age. He was toast every single frigging time when faced with those two.

"She's never been in Thunderbird Four before today's mission, you know. But suddenly she was in control, she was the lead, she could do it all," Gordon blurted out. "Kayo's all 'I've got this' to Penny. No 'we've got this", oh no, it was all 'I've got this'. She's never even been in Four before and suddenly she's the expert, telling me what to do, calling the shots. She's the mission leader just like Alan was the mission leader on the Europa rescue, and I'm just excess baggage. It just feels like I'm spare change, taken along for the ride in case I'm needed. Jeez, I thought I was past all that being the newb, that I'd proven – you know, that you guys could rely on me. That I'm worth it on the team. Hell, that I might even add some value, you know? But no, I'm the tag along while other less experienced people are given command. I don't get a say anymore, everyone else is telling me what to do…."

Okay, so maybe he hadn't meant to have blurted all of that out quite like that. Damn those eyes.

"Woah, slow down, Gordo! It's not like that at all," Virgil sat up. "Kayo has been studying the operations of all our 'Birds. You know we agreed that we needed the extra back up in case one of is injured on a mission. You and Scott can already fly Two after all, and Alan is learning. And I can fly One and Three. We know I'm not great in Four, but I can do it at a pinch. We all need to know how to operate each other's 'Birds."

Damn, Gordon could have kicked himself. Now he had Virgil's attention intently focused on him. He could almost see the gears turning in his brain, trying to understand where his frustration and lack of self-belief had come from.

"It isn't like that? I hate to tell you, Virge, it sure seems that way to me!"

"Alan needs to get experience in leadership. Scott trusts you to know when to step in."

"By leading my mission? One where I'm the experienced, one with a deep-water rescue?"

"Okay, to be fair, it also involved deep space travel and a hostile environment on the surface of another planet's moon – so an environment that you, me, none of us are used to at all."

Damn Virgil and his reasonableness. Gordon's quick fire temper wasn't in the mood to be placated with reason.

"If Alan needs that experience why doesn't Scott let him take control when he's on a mission with him?"

"Well, he did try on the recent mission to the Canadian satellite. True, it almost drove Scott out of his mind not taking full control until the satellite's afterburner rockets almost scorched Three, but he did take a leaf out of the Gordon Tracy School of Leadership Training book, and annoy the shit out of Alan by continually asking Alan what the big red button marked Do Not Touch did." Virgil grinned. "I think it's the only way they both survived that mission."

"Okay, I'll give you that one." Gordon chuckled, remembering Scott's face turning red as he tried to restrain himself from taking full command when Alan made a series of small errors.

"But bringing Kayo on my mission in Four when I might have had to evacuate a whole family in my 'Bird? What if I'd had to fit all of them in my sub as well?"

"Well, she is our security expert," Virgil began.

"And I'm the underwater expert, like you're our logistics, heavy lifting and demolition expert and John is our communications expert. Scott wouldn't ask Kayo to lead one of your missions or handle communications globally during a rescue."

"No, he definitely wouldn't get her to do John's role. John's expertise in languages combined with Kayo's suspicion of EOS means it wouldn't work that well. "

Gordon looked up in surprise. "Wow - you went there. I didn't think anyone else had noticed, let alone would ever… you know, Kayo's just so not cool with the way EOS does stuff some times."

Virgil looked at him thoughtfully for a long moment before turning away, tracing patterns in the sand with his finger.

"I don't think it's just Kayo, Gords…." He started slowly. "I don't know for sure because Scott has never said anything to me, but I get the impression from him he's not that comfortable with EOS anymore either. I don't know why, and Scott won't open up about it. In fact he goes all 'dad face' when I ask him."

"Ahhh, the dreaded 'dad face of doom'." Gordon watched his brother who was apparently trying to concentrate drawing patterns in the sand. When Virgil didn't say any more, Gordon continued.

"Hmm, yeah, now that you mention it, when was the last time Scott had a conversation with EOS? In fact, when was the last time EOS had a conversation with any of us?"

Virgil frowned more than usual. "The last time I can remember any interactions or conversations was before we got stuck on.."

"Rona."

"North Rona," Virgil muttered under his breath. "There are two Ronas. We were on North Rona, which is 175.5 klicks north of South Rona. If we had been on that Rona, we would have only been about 11.3 klicks from the Isle of…"

Gordon snorted. Trust Virgil to be precise with location names and distances. He was nothing if not organised in his thinking about details and how to move from point A to E, which was always via B, C and D remembering to take into account other issues that might impact with the flow. It was so different to Virgil's intuitive creative side that it always fascinated Gordon how he could think both ways.

Gordon? Gordon however looked at the big picture and saw possibilities, the poetry in waves, and the rhythm of nature out in his big blue ocean. He avoided pesky details wherever possible. He could do them; he just didn't like them.

"You say po-ta-toe and I say po-tart-toe. It will always be Rona to me. But you are changing the subject, bro."

That got Virgil looking up, frowning.

"I'm changing the subject? You're the one who brought up none of us interacting with EOS for ages!"

"No, that was you, Virge," Gordon frowned at Virgil taking the bait. Normally it was impossible to get a rise out of him. "What's up with you?"

Virgil held up a hand, "Ah! No way Gordo. I asked the question first. Talk to me Gordon, why are you so bent out of shape about Kayo on your mission? It's more than just people telling you what to do. You get that with Scott, John and me all the time."

Gordon sighed and cast around for how to express the frustration he was feeling. "I just feel I have no agency these days, just feel like I'm the bit part player or background puppet. Someone's jerking my chain, someone's taking my role in IR and – yeah, sometimes I think it's in the family as well. I'm not a free agent to make decisions or handle things by myself. I'm not trusted."

"Woah! You are wrong, Gordon! No one can take your place in International Rescue or on Thunderbird Four, and no way can anyone take your place in this family."

"Where does IR end and family begin Virge? There are … I…sometimes it feels blurred."

"Gordo?"

Gordon looked out to the ocean contemplating the waves rolling in from the wilds beyond the horizon. Intellectually he knew Virgil was right, but his heart told him a different story. He couldn't respond to Virgil's protest. He just didn't know what to say.

"You want me to have a chat to Scott?" Ever the big brother, Virgil would always back him, had always backed him ever since Gordon could remember. More than that, Virgil believed in him, believed in every member of the family with a depth of understanding of their characters and their place in the family that sometimes made him seem older than his years. Gordon loved to tease him about being old, but it was an affectionate teasing, born from knowing through years and years of escapades and rescues and emotional upheavals and long hours enduring a painful recovery from his horrific hydrofoil accident that this brother was always there for him.

"Gordon?"

Gordon glanced back at those sincere brown eyes, currently watching him in concern.

"Nah, I'll take it up with Scott. This is one battle I need to fight on my own."

Wordlessly, Virgin clasped Gordon's shoulder. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to.