This collection may be a mix of TOS and TAG 2015, and who knows, maybe it'll end up with some movie-verse too. It's largely meant to be humorous, but there will almost certainly be some whumping here and there.

Thanks to ScribeOfRED, whose comment inspired this chapter.

I do not own the Thunderbirds, and I am making no profit from this story.

Chapter Two

Virgil had called John, acting as though he just wanted to chat, but as the conversation progressed, John became increasingly aware that Virgil was staring at him in a very odd way – he seemed to be trying to lean as close as possible to the hologram to see John better.

"What?" John finally asked. "Do I have something stuck in my teeth?"

Virgil sat back. "John, you're an older brother," he said matter-of-factly.

"Um, yeah." Three times over.

"Do you have any gray hairs?"

"Do I what?"

"You know – have any of us younger brothers given you gray hairs?"

John rolled his eyes. "Setting aside the sheer randomness of the question, may I point out that I'm a redhead? We don't go gray."

"All right, then, I'll give you that…but assuming you could get gray hairs, would you have any from stunts we've pulled?"

"You mean other than all the times Gordy's gotten me with the Dead Man's Float?"

Virgil had to wince at that one. No matter how many times Gordon pulled that trick, someone always fell for it. Even now, his heart skipped a beat as he pictured his younger brother's figure floating face down in the pool, arms and legs dangling limply. He shuddered, and quickly changed the subject. "Yeah, how about Alan? Has he ever done anything to scare you really badly – like, maybe when you were training him how to run Five?"

A thoughtful expression crossed John's face. "Oh, yeah," he murmured. "There was this one time…"

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

John woke up slowly, stretching luxuriously. He liked keeping his days structured, but he had to admit that sleeping in late once in a while was nice. Normally he arose early while on Five, but he had figured that he might as well take advantage of having a younger brother to delegate the early shift to. After all, he'd probably never get the chance again, as after this training session, he and Alan would be trading off on rotational shifts.

He got dressed and wandered out to the control center – and then stopped short with a frown. Five was still on auto, and there was no sign of his youngest brother. Rolling his eyes in exasperation, he headed for the spare bedroom. Alan must have slept through his alarm.

Alan wasn't in his room, though. His bed was neatly made – one of the rules John had insisted on – and his uniform was gone.

Frowning more deeply now, John hurried through Five, checking the galley, the bathroom, the supply rooms, all while calling for Alan – and with no response.

He didn't know whether to be relieved or angry when he stopped by the airlock and noticed that Alan's space suit was missing from its locker. He settled on mildly annoyed – technically, Alan was qualified to be outside alone, but John would have preferred being kept in the loop.

He grimaced as he imagined what Alan would say in response to that – he could even hear the kid's absurdly cheerful voice in his head – "But, John, Thunderbird Five is a loop, so how can you ever be out of the loop?" He'd spent enough time with Alan lately to learn that the kid was going through a rather painful pun phase – and unfortunately, it seemed to be contagious.

He activated his radio. "Alan, come in."

Silence.

"Alan, come in."

John growled when there was still no response. Alan must have forgotten to turn on his suit's communication system – or had thought it unnecessary for a solo trip outside.

Hurrying back to the main console, John spotted the blinking light that explained why Alan had gone outside – a minor fuse had blown, and it could only be replaced from one of the outer hatches.

John activated the camera that was pointed toward that particular hatch. He blinked, surprised, as there was still no sign of Alan. Then he shrugged – perhaps Alan hadn't been able to complete the repair and was making his way back inside. He began the process of taking Five off auto, listening for the airlock.

A few minutes later, he was frowning again. It shouldn't have taken Alan so long to get back inside. He pulled up all the exterior cameras, flipping through them one by one, a knot gradually growing in the pit of his stomach as each camera revealed the same thing: blank hull and empty space. No space-suit-clad figure was in sight. One last check of all of Five's interior security cameras confirmed it: Alan had disappeared.

Okay, time for full-blown panic mode. John hurtled to the airlock and got himself into his suit in record time, his mind racing through a million possibilities of what could have happened to his baby brother in the vacuum of outer space.

In moments, he was outside Five and moving from safety point to safety point, scanning the hull of the ship for Alan – and occasionally glancing into the cold, unforgiving darkness of outer space as well, stomach clenching in fear.

By the time he was three quarters of the way around the station, he was drenched in sweat and having a hard time controlling his breathing. He'd lost Alan, his baby brother…how would he ever tell his father? Or his other brothers?

Then he saw a hint of movement, and as he drifted closer to get a better look, his could have wept with relief – there was Alan.

The kid, naturally, had managed to settle himself in one of the only spots the cameras couldn't see. He'd used his safety line to snub himself close enough to Five to sit down, and was staring out at the stars.

John's relief quickly turned to white-hot anger. He shot toward his brother, clamping a hand down on his shoulder.

Alan jumped and turned to face him. He grinned and began to chatter a mile a minute, but of course none of it came through the radio.

John rolled his eyes and pointed to the communications switch on Alan's suit.

Comprehension dawning on his face, Alan flipped the switch.

"Hey, John," he said cheerfully, apparently totally oblivious to the panic he'd caused. "Sorry I didn't come in right away – I got distracted." He made a sweeping gesture toward the stars, his face alight with pure joy. "We've been so busy training that I haven't really had time to stop and enjoy the view."

And as John watched his brother wiggle around to a cross-legged position – not an easy feat in a space suit – and stare out toward the distant stars, blue eyes shining…John found his anger beginning to melt away.

He hooked his safety line next to Alan's and sat beside his brother for a few minutes, listening in silence as Alan identified a truly extraordinary number of stars and constellations. Alan was right, he thought – things were so busy on Five that he didn't get nearly as much time as he would like to sit back and enjoy the sheer beauty that surrounded him night and day.

After a little while, he stirred reluctantly. "C'mon, we'd better get back inside."

They made their way back into Five. John checked the monitors, only just remembering that he'd turned the ship back to manual control. Thankfully the airwaves were quiet. He also noticed, though, that there was still a light blinking on the console.

"Alan," he sighed. "Did you ever actually change that fuse?"

Alan's face said it all. "Oops."

"All right, get back out there," John told him wearily. "And for goodness' sake, don't get distracted again – it's enough to give a brother gray hair!"

Alan's eyebrows scrunched together. "But redheads don't go gray," he started to say.

"I know, I know," John growled. "But I'm willing to bet that I have a few strands right now that are a few shades lighter!"

Alan looked confused, but headed out to suit up again without further comment.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Virgil laughed. "So did you ever tell him how he had given you gray hairs? Or, excuse me – lighter hairs?"

"Yeah, I had him use the cameras later to identify all the blind spots on the outside of Five. He's a sharp kid – he figured it out." John sighed. "What a morning! It makes me tense just thinking about it!" He leveled his gaze on Virgil. "Well, so that's one of my stories. How about you?"

Virgil crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't have any gray hairs," he snorted.

"Oh yeah? What'd you do – pluck them out?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Virgil said coolly. "But here's a good story that would have probably given me gray hairs, if I wasn't such a tower of strength and common sense…"