Disclaimer: I do not own Thunderbirds. The following story has been written purely for entertainment purposes - no profit is being made by the author.

Caffeine Overload

Brains was exhausted. Conferences were fun; he enjoyed catching up with acquaintances he hardly saw from year to year, hearing the latest developments in different fields, sharing his own ideas with like-minded thinkers. It was a part of his life that thrilled him, and the only thing missing from his day-to-day routine on Tracy Island.

Consequently, when he went away to a conference, either as a speaker or an attendee, he made the most of it. A quick calculation told him he'd had six hours sleep in the last three days, and approximately twelve gallons of coffee.

Brains frowned. That couldn't be right, could it...?

A slight tremor in his fingers suggested that it might in fact be right. Now that he came to think of it, the mid-morning sun was warm on his skin, yet he felt a distinctive chill. He grinned ruefully at the realisation that he couldn't recall much of the journey home.

He climbed the steps leading up to the villa, and once inside, headed towards the kitchen. He settled down at the table, hesitating a moment before pouring himself a cup of coffee. He could see light through the pot, which meant Mrs. Tracy had made it. Brains didn't mind, coffee was coffee, but he much preferred Virgil's take on it. Virgil's coffee was strong – strong enough to wake the dead, Gordon had once remarked.

Brains surmised that the caffeine he'd consumed during the conference had already done its worst. Even Virgil's potent brew wouldn't make a difference now. A few more hours of sleepless, caffeine-fuelled exhaustion lay ahead of him before he'd be able to sleep.

Half an hour later, Brains shuffled into the lounge and picked up a copy of Kine magazine – not his usual reading material, but he figured there was a first time for everything. He folded himself into a ball on the couch, staring absently at the front cover. He didn't even notice when his eyes drifted closed.

Brains didn't sleep – the caffeine wouldn't let him. Instead, he was trapped in a waking nightmare. On some level, he knew it was a dream, but he couldn't summon the strength to force his eyes open, and banish the images that plagued him.

He was on stage, at a conference, but not just any conference. In the audience sat every critic who had ever mocked his inventions, every fellow scientist who had belittled his theories. At every turn, he saw unfriendly faces. Seated in the front row were the two guys from the Allington Bridge disaster. They were there with the soul intent of having him sectioned again, he was sure of it.

Professor Blakely, oddly enough, was standing beside him, introducing him, speaking at length on a topic Brains had never heard of. Something to do with chemical weaponry – a field the young scientist had taken care to stay out of.

Brains felt his face turning red. It was going to be a full-on nightmare. And if he didn't hurry up and speak soon, he'd find himself standing naked in front of everyone. It always turned out that way. Oh, no...

"Brains! Brains!"

The young scientist blinked. Someone was shouting over the professor.

"Brains, wake up!" The voice was insistent, and Brains shook his head.

"Not asleep," he advised the speaker, languidly. "Got to speak, before I lose my... Say, what do you know about nerve agents?"

"Nerve agents? Brains, I thought you were at a computer science conference."

"Computer science...?" Brains blinked again, and suddenly Professor Blakely vanished, along with the room full of people. He found himself looking into Tin-Tin's worried face. "Tin-Tin? Where am I?"

"You're at home, Brains." Tin-Tin took the magazine out of the young scientist's hands and sat down beside him. "You fell asleep."

"Can't have," Brains said vaguely. "Had too much coffee."

"Caffeine overload," Scott's voice said succinctly.

"Brains, did you sleep at all over the weekend?"

"Sleep..." Brains tried to rub his eyes, and nearly broke his glasses. "Ow."

Scott took hold of the glasses and gently lifted them off Brains' face. "C'mon, fella. Let's get you to bed."

"Can't sleep," Brains wearily insisted.

But when Scott lifted him to his feet, he stumbled obediently at the field commander's side. Scott and Tin-Tin steadied him down the stairs, and when they reached his room, the two of them removed his shoes and socks, and tucked him into bed.

It felt nice to lie down, even if sleep was still far away. He clutched randomly at his two helpers, latching on to Scott's arm.

"Please, no more dreams," he muttered.

"Scott," Tin-Tin said, sounding anxious. "Do you think he's all right?"

"He'll be fine, honey. Like I said, caffeine overload. But don't worry, I got a sure-fire cure."

"You have?"

"A cure...?" Brains mumbled, stumbling a little on his words. His mouth felt dry. He'd need a glass of water before he spoke again, or maybe another coffee. "Can I have a drink?"

"Of course, Brains. Scott, get him a drink and a hot water bottle."

"Hot water bottle? Tin-Tin, it's eighty-five degrees."

"Not after the amount of coffee he's drunk, it isn't."

Scott disappeared from under Brains' touch, and the young scientist moaned in disapproval.

"Take it easy, Brains." The bed creaked as Tin-Tin sat on the end of it, and moments later, Brains felt a hand rubbing his ankle. "You're going to feel a whole lot better in just a few minutes, I promise."

Brains sighed happily. Tin-Tin's voice, gentle and melodic, was incredibly soothing, and he found himself believing her.

"So tired, Tin-Tin...Can't sleep."

"I know. But we're going to fix that for you very soon, Brains. Trust me."

Tin-Tin folded back the blankets on the end of the bed, and Brains sighed in pleasure as her delicate hands started massaging his feet and ankles.

Moments later, Scott raised his head and helped him sip cool water. Nothing, Brains thought drowsily, had ever tasted so good.

Tin-Tin's hands kept up their magic on his feet. Brains found himself drifting deeper and deeper, soothed more than he could ever have imagined by his friends' soft voices as they talked to one another.

"So good to be home," he murmured.

By the time Tin-Tin tucked the hot water bottle beneath his thoroughly massaged feet, he was well on his way to a dreamless, comforting sleep.

"No more coffee for him," Scott said wryly, looking down at the young scientist's sleeping face.

"At least until the next conference." Tin-Tin covered the blankets back over Brains' feet.

"Funny how his stutter disappears whenever he's 'out of it'," Scott mused.

Tin-Tin swatted his arm. "Scott Tracy!" she hissed. "Your bedside manner is atrocious. He might have heard that."

Scott chuckled softly. "By the look of him, I doubt it. C'mon, honey. He'll sleep 'till dinnertime now. I'll fix him up a pizza later – he'll need the carbs. And then afterwards, you can give him a nice little back rub."

"I'd be happy to," Tin-Tin smiled, shrugging off the playful taunt. "But are you sure he's going to be all right?"

"Positive. Sleep, carbs, sleep; the one sure-fire cure for caffeine overload." Scott tapped his nose. "We ex-Air Force pilots should know."

Tin-Tin grinned and stood up. "What should we do in the meantime?"

"Maybe you might like to get in some massage practice." Scott flexed his shoulders suggestively.

"Oh?" The young woman tilted her head, looking at him through her eyelashes. "And what's in it for me?"

"My undying gratitude." Scott grinned broadly as Tin-Tin rolled her eyes. "Hey, if you're lucky, I might even return the favour."

Tin-Tin blushed a little. "I'll think about it." She bent down and straightened Brains' blankets. "Sleep tight, Brains."

Brains smiled to himself. Oh, sure, he'd heard every word. But he was okay with it. Conferences were fun, but nothing could beat the comfort of home.

~The End~