Gears

Thank you quiller for being my spellchecker!

Disclaimer: I don't own the boys, I just play with them...

"Brains!" Virgil bellowed. "Brains!"

Scott stuck his head out of his door, yanking it back just in time as his younger brother came barrelling down the hall.

"Hey! Virg, where's the fire?" Scott called, but Virgil had already disappeared around the corner heading towards Brains' laboratory.

Sighing, the oldest brother pulled back into his room; grabbing his recently discarded t-shirt, Scott yanked the fabric over his head. Forsaking his initial shower plans, he headed out the door after his brother.

Scott knocked on the door to the lab; nobody answered. Frowning, he pressed his ear against it and held his breath. Sure enough, there was a very distinct sound of metal clattering on metal. Scott pushed against the door. Peering inside he caught sight of the island's engineer.

Brains was backed up against the wall behind his desk. His glasses were slightly askew, eyes wide and expression somewhat terrified. Following the frightened man's gaze, Scott found Virgil. The artist had already made a mess of the usually spotless lab, he was digging through supplies, parts and tools that Brains always kept at the ready. The young man muttered to himself, furiously shaking his head as he tossed a spanner over his shoulder. It clattered against the shining floor and out of the corner of his eye, Scott saw Brains jump.

Deciding to rescue his friend, Scott stepped into the lab and beckoned to Brains. Relief crashed over the man's face and he started towards the door. Virgil caught sight of the movement and swirled around at the genius.

"I need gears. Brains, where do you keep your gears?"

"T-top uhm-uh shelf." Brains answered in a shaky voice, Virgil jumped around reaching up for the box that was clearly marked 'gears'. Taking advantage of Virgil's turned back, Brains scurried across the room and swept out of the lab with uncharacteristic grace. Scott followed, slowly closing the door behind him.

"W-what's going on with ah Virgil?" Brains asked as he straightened his glasses.

Scott shrugged, "Artists," he stated simply as he motioned for Brains to walk with him as he headed for the kitchen. Towards the end of the hallway Scott heard the familiar thud of feet behind him. He pulled Brains out of the way just as Virgil came sprinting down the passage.

"Hey! Slow down!" Jeff exclaimed, retreating into his office just in time to avoid a full on collision with his middle son.

"Sorry, Dad!" Virgil called, speeding up.

The Tracy patriarch stepped out into the hallway, an empty mug swinging from his fingers, mumbling something under his breath as he peeled the coffee soaked fabric from his chest.

"Father, are you okay?" Scott said, stepping closer, concern edged in his features.

"Yes, I'm fine," his father smiled. "It was cold. What on earth is going on with your brother?" Jeff asked, glancing at the living room.

"He is a bit skittish at the moment," Scott explained, following his father's gaze. "And some of us are a bit bored," he added as he stepped closer to the living room. Alan was sprawled out on the couch, head hanging on the floor, a look of the utmost self-pity on his face. Gordon was staring at the bookshelf, scratching his red mop of hair.

"Well, you really shouldn't complain." Jeff stated. "Could you please take this to the kitchen for me?" He handed Scott the coffee mug, "I'm going to go change." He nodded to Brains and headed towards the villa's master bedroom as they continued towards the kitchen.

"I know we should be grateful that nobody needs our help and I very much prefer having you boys safe." Grandma's voice came drifting from the kitchen along with the sweet, warm smells of her baking. "It's also nice that the villa is finally getting the attention it needs; Alan and Gordon fixed the water feature in the front garden yesterday, but I can see your brothers are itching for some action. And they're eating me out of the house, more so than usual," she added, clicking her tongue. "Ah, Scott, Brains come in, these ought to be cooled off by now." She gestured to the ginger snaps on the cooling rack.

"Afternoon, ah, Mrs Tracy, John." Brains nodded toward the portrait from which John was hungrily gazing at the steaming apple pie that Grandma held cradled in her gloved hands.

"Well, as I was saying, it has been exceptionally quiet. And I'm thankful, but I know you boys love your job." Grandma added, frowning slightly, "How long has it been?" John blinked from his daze, visibly swallowing and glancing at something off screen.

"Almost four weeks since our last call," he muttered, looking discontented.

"Not that we got to do much on that rescue." Scott interjected; picking what he thought was the largest ginger snap from the rack of perfectly equal, round cookies.

"Well if we discard the rescue where the locals got to the fire before we got to the scene, then it will be exactly 5 weeks since we last launched the 'Birds."

"Surely you have been receiving, ah, communications, John?" Brains asked, looking slightly worried. John smiled slightly.

"Don't worry Brains, Five's systems are running as smooth as ever, I just haven't received anything that needed International Rescue." Brains nodded, seeming satisfied.

For a moment it was quiet, calm. Scott crunched at his ginger snap as Grandma busied herself with paging through one of her cookbooks. Brain's eyed the cooling pie and John was busy with something off screen.

There was a sudden flash of movement and Brains jumped again as Virgil burst into the kitchen. A painful looking grin stretched across his face and a slight glint of madness shone in his brown eyes.

"I'm done!" Pulling something from behind his back, he looked at his family, grinning goofily.

Screws, rods, wires and gears stuck out at random angles from a board of pressed wood that Virgil held balanced on the palms of his hands. An uncomfortable silence fell across the room. Scott caught himself frowning and quickly changed his expression to something more neutral.

He knew Virgil would sometimes experiment with abstract art, but Scott could for the life of him not figure out what his younger brother had created.

"So?" Virgil said, nodding eagerly. "What do you guys think?"

"Uh…" Scott gaped.

"I think your muse has gone mad." Gordon's voice trailed in from where he was now leaning against the kitchen doorframe.

Virgil's face fell, for a moment he frowned down at his creation and then slight redness started creeping at his ears.

"Well I would not expect you to understand, fish." Virgil smirked. "We all know you never had much appreciation for art."

"Oh," Gordon said, squaring his shoulders. "I might not be a connoisseur, but I do know that that is not art."

Virgil quirked his eyebrows, he stepped forward.

"Boys,"Grandma said, her voice freezing the entire room mid action. "Virgil honey," she said more tentatively, "what is it?"

Gordon smirked, Virgil's mouth fell open "'supposed to be the 'Birds…" Virgil said, turning the heap of, for lack of a better word, junk, around in his hands.

"It's a, ah, p-perspective sculpture." Brains suddenly piped up from the awkward silence that rested on the room.

"Oh! Yes of course, I see it now!" John exclaimed where his face had been enlarged on the screen as he leaned closer to the camera on his end. "It's brilliant, Virgil. I can see Five from this angle."

Virgil's face lit. "You can? You see it?"

"Oh!" Scott exclaimed, as he looked back at the pieces of metal sticking up into the air. Sure enough as he moved his head, changing the angle, he could make out the outline of Thunderbird 1 within the mess of cogs and screws.

"I see Three." Gordon exclaimed. "And there's Four!" He pointed at the sculpture. Virgil beamed at his brother, anger forgotten.

"Yes! I have all five of them in here." Virgil grinned as he placed the sculpture in the middle of the Lazy Susan on the table so that everybody could examine his artwork from all angles. The hype in the kitchen was so overwhelming that nobody registered the klaxon that had suddenly come to life for the first time in so long. Alan burst into the kitchen.

"Guys?" Alan's voice rang through the room. "Am I the only one hearing the alarm?"

"Wha- oh!" Scott spun. "John?"

"There has been a flash flood in Mozambique," Despite his light tone; the blond's face was already serious as his hands flew across the controls of the space station.

"Okay, you heard him." Scott said and the four earthbound brothers headed towards their father's office.

Grandma smiled sadly at the suddenly empty kitchen. Silently praying for their safe return she spun the Lazy Susan and watched as the outlines of the five machines that made International Rescue flashed from the sculpture.

Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think.

CreapyCreature