a/n Reworked April 23rd, 2008
Warning: Tara's language is now un-edited, and is a little heavier than before.
Chapter 1 – Rebel, Rebel
April, 2065
Penelope was seated at her dressing table when Parker entered carrying her mail. With a soft word, he lay them by her hairbrush.
The blonde woman plucked the final stray hair from her left eyebrow, before resting her tweezers in their rightful spot in her chest of drawers, and she turned to the pile.
Newly shaped brows furrowed as she scanned the front of the letter on the top of the pile.
Thorntree Academy
A small sigh escaped her lips. Despite Penelope's best intentions, it seemed that the only thing Thorntree had fostered in Tara was a destructive and rebellious nature.
There was no doubt in her mind that this letter would contain nothing good.
Debating with herself whether or not she needed a cup of tea before opening it, Penelope weighted the envelope in her hand.
She winced.
It was heavier than usual.
Tara's mid course report.
At times like this, Penelope wished she condoned swearing, because nothing which sprung to mind was good or appropriate for polite company.
Bracing herself, she ran her pewter letter opener under the lip of the envelope and a slight jerk of her wrist tore it cleanly through the paper.
Dear Lady Creighton-Ward,
According to school policy, which I am sure you are quite familiar with by now, it is the duty of the school to inform you of your daughter's miscreant behaviour as of late. Tara was caught out of her dormitory after the curfew imposed for seniors. As is customary, she has been punished with a groundskeeping detention, however we leave further punishment to your discretion
Sincerely,
Headmistress Emmaline Thickett
Post Script – Attached, you will find Tara's results for her mid course assessments. For someone of her behaviour, they are surprisingly high.
Penelope placed the letter on her dressing table, her lips tight.
What exactly did Headmistress Thickett mean by "someone of Tara's behaviour"?
Azure eyes darted back to the page, and scanned the results.
Mentor's comment: Tara's shown some promising results. If she were only to apply herself, she could excel in her academics.
Classics--B
Geography--C
Home Economics--C
Mathematics--A
Literature--A
Philosophy--A
Physical Education--A
Science--B
Theory of Knowledge-B
Penelope was pleasantly surprised. She stood, straightening her pink tweed skirt, before ringing her bell.
When Parker entered her chamber with a bow, she glanced up.
"Parker, go and fetch the car. We're going to visit Jeff and the boys,"
"Any special reason, m'lady?"
"Tara, Parker," Penelope folded up the letter, sliding it back into its envelope, "I'm going to bring her home for her spring break," When Parker furrowed his brow, the aristocrat added, "And we need to visit Jeff, because she'll be finishing up at Thorntree Academy next year, and I'd like her to help me work with Jeff and International Rescue. She's bright, Parker, she's just lazy and, it seems, insolent. I'm hoping the boys will help give her discipline, not to mention will allow her to flourish and foster her natural talents,"
Parker bowed.
"As you wish, M'lady,"
"Father," Jeff glanced up as his eldest entered his office, "Father, there's a vehicle approaching the island,"
"And, Scott?"
"It's Fab 1," a smile broke out on Jeff's face.
"Penny," He rose and immediately made for the front of the house.
By the time he reached them, Penelope had already exited the car, and beamed at the grey haired man.
"Jeff," she kissed him on both cheeks, clasping his hands, "How are you?"
Jeff paced the length of his office as he listened to Penelope's speech.
"Here," Penelope handed over the envelope containing Tara's results, "They're not brilliant, but it proves she's no dunce, Jeff. I think she could work well with International Rescue. But I wouldn't dream of bringing her in so completely without your approval,"
There was silence in the office as Jeff scanned the paper.
"These aren't brilliant, you're right," Penelope steeled herself for more argument, "But we can work with it. But I need to get this straight right now, Penny. Tara will be working as an operative, not as a direct body in the missions, understand?" Penelope nodded.
"That's all I wanted, Jeff,"
"Tara's too precious to both of us for me to even dream of risking her. My boys know the risks, and, though I hate putting them in that line of fire, I need them to help me. I refuse to place Tara in that danger," he sighed, "But if you are truly serious about this Penny, then I'm with you,"
"Excellent. Thank you, Jeff. I'll be bringing her home from school for this mid-year break,"
"If you'd like, Penny, Tara can stay here with us. It will give her the best introduction to how things work around International Rescue,"
Penelope looked sceptical.
"Are you sure you're ready for that, Jeff?" he chuckled.
"Penny, I raised five sons. I think I can handle one teenage girl. Tara's what, 15 now?"
"16," Jeff's eyebrows rose and lips tightened in surprise.
"Has it really been that long?"
Penelope nodded, smiling.
"They grow up so fast," Jeff laughed
"C'mon, Parker! One more game!" Alan tossed his Wii remote from hand to hand eagerly. Parker laughed, shaking his head.
"I can't, Master Tracy. I must be on my way with M'lady to collect Miss. Tara from school,"
Alan dropped his nunchuck.
"Tara?"
"Yes, Master Tracy, Miss. Tara. We're bringin' 'er 'ome for 'er mid-year break. 'pparently 'her Ladyship wants Miss. Tara to begin workin' with hInternational Rescue,"
Alan's eyes widened.
"Are you serious?"
"Quite serious, Master Tracy, and now I must go and fetch 'er,"
Alan put down his Wii remote, his mind working quickly.
"Parker," he started cautiously, "Do you think Lady P would mind if I picked Tara up instead? Tara and I were so close once, I wouldn't mind catching up with her a bit first,"
Parker considered this.
"There shouldn't be a problem, Master Tracy. I'm sure 'er ladyship wouldn't mind, and you and your brothers are cleared by Miss. Tara's school to collect her,"
A grin broke out on Alan's face.
"Excellent, Parker, thanks," Alan grabbed his keys and immediately made for his elder brother, tapping Virgil on the shoulder.
"Hey Virg, could you drop my car off in 'bird 2?" Virgil's brow furrowed.
"Why," he asked cautiously. The blond rolled his eyes.
"I'm picking Tara up from school," Virgil span around at this.
"Ra-ra? Why?"
"She's coming here for Spring Break, Virg. Lady P wants her to work with us," the middle Tracy son considered this.
"Alright," he finally decided, standing and striding over to the entrance to the Thunderbird 2 silo. Alan made his way to the lift and hopped in, reaching the ship slightly after Virgil.
What seemed like mere moments later, Alan was waving goodbye to his brother, driving off to Thorntree Academy.
To Tara.
This could prove to be very interesting.
Alan pushed open the glass double doors, looking around in awe at the reception area.
It was a meld of old and new architecture, and it was beautiful.
His cornflower blue eyes snagged on a painting, and he turned to examine it clos—
"Can I help you?" Alan jumped as the sharp voice of the school secretary addressed him, cutting through the silence like a knife.
"I'm," he cleared his throat awkwardly, "I'm here to pick up Tara Creighton-Ward...?"
"Are you a parent or guardian?" the boy almost snorted at the question, but held himself back.
"Family friend,"
"Name?"
"Tracy. Alan Tracy," the sound of shuffling papers filled the office, before the secretary spoke again, this time not quite as sharp in timbre.
"You're clear. Ms. James!" the mousy haired girl near her snapped to attention.
"Yes, Miss. Smithe?"
"Go and fetch Miss. Creighton Ward for Mr. Tracy. You should find her by the Headmistress' stables," there was a small smile on the secretary, Miss. Smithe's lips, "Make sure she's packed as well,"
Jennifer nodded tightly.
As soon as the girl had left, Alan turned back to the painting he was examining earlier, secretly wondering what Tara would look like... be like.
It had, after all, been six long years since their last meeting.
In the background, he absentmindedly noted that Miss. Smithe was placing a call to inform someone of Tara's impending release. From the sounds of things, that someone was not pleased.
"Oh for fucks sake," Tara swore, kicking the stable door in anger.
She'd only mucked out half of the horse sheds, before discovering that the headmistress' prize thoroughbred had left her a surprise which she'd have to go back and clean.
"I will send you to the glue factory and make it look like an accident," the girl growled at the long faced animal. Spitfire just tossed her mane, almost daring the blonde to try.
At this point, she probably would have.
That is, if Jenny hadn't come sprinting down from the school.
"Tars!" the blonde leaned against her shovel, wiping the sweat off her brow.
"What's up, Jen?"
"Your ride just got here!" Tara arched a shaped brow.
"Someone's been sniffing the liquid paper again, haven't they Jen?" the mousy haired girl glared.
"Fuck off Tars. But seriously, you're going home for mid-year break,"
"Hmkay, why?"
Jenny shrugged.
"Didn't say. But man, the guy who's here is totally hot, Tars," Tara's features morphed in hyperbolic horror.
"Parker?" she gagged, "Jen that's disgustingly illegal."
"Is that what you call that fine thing in the office? Parker? Sounds kinky," Tara's face distorted further.
"Jennifer Elise James, you are disgusting. Aloysius Parker is old enough to be your grandfather. He's practically mine. So forgive me if I hit you for being a complete sicko,"
Jenny looked confused.
"Grandfathe—Tara, the guy who's here to pick you up is young. Said his name was Tracy, or something. Wasn't listening," she waved her hand flippantly. Tara smirked.
"Too busy checking out his arse, huh?"
"Like you wouldn't have," Jenny grinned, "Anyway, I threw most of your stuff into your bag before coming down, so yeah. If you want to shower first quickly, I left you some clothes on your bed too,"
"So, basically, I'm free from this detention?" the blonde suddenly looked like a kid in a candy store. She stripped off the large gloves and kicked off the gumboots, before sprinting up to the main building of the school.
Tara did indeed have a quick shower, washing the stench of the stables off, before hurriedly dressing in the jeans, white babydoll "Team Edward" tee and black leather jacket left for her. She shoved her feet into black converses, brushed mascara over her eyelashes and lip balm over her full lips, before ruffling her hair and surveying herself in the mirror.
Two swift touches of her eyeliner pencil later, she crammed her spare stuff into her bag, swung it over her shoulder and hurried down the stairs to the common room.
"See you guys after break," she flashed Jenny, Charlotte, Amber and Ophelia warm grins, hugging them each in turn.
"Have fun at home, Tars," Charlotte Silver smirked and Tara pulled a face.
"Please 'Lotte. If I know my mother, I'll be back here in 2 days,"
Amber furrowed her brow.
"She'll kick you out? She'd kick out the great and magnificent Tara Creighton-Ward?" the blonde laughed.
"No, my dearest Amber Lam. We don't get on. I'll leave, most likely,"
Ophelia Firth nodded, her crazy black curls bouncing.
"Well, sooner you go, sooner you're back. Have fun at home anyway, Tars," Tara laughed, adjusting her bag strap, before striding out and down to the office.
Now, there was a bigger mystery, aside from why she was going home, that she needed to solve.
Who in the hell was taking her home?
Alan was examining a portrait of the first headmistress at Thorntree when he heard a bag thump on the ground of the office.
"Okay, I'll bite," a voice, lilted by the distinct R.P. accent of the Creighton-Ward family, spoke, "Who the hell are you?"
The blond turned and his eyes widened. The girl opposite him, hand on her cocked out hip, sleeves bunched up at her elbow, white babydoll tee pulled across a slightly-above-average bust, blonde hair falling in messy sex-hair waves, eyebrow arched on fine cynical features...
There was no way this was Tara. Not his Tari, anyway.
Yet, there was a lot of her mother in her. Just enough that he knew it had to be.
The girl's blonde hair fell to her shoulders, some half falling over her azure eyes. Her nose was small, her lips heart shaped, like her mother's. Her skin was clear, and the same peachy complexion as Lady P.
She was tall enough, about a head shorter than Alan, though. And her figure... she had her mother's figure. Her jeans hugged her hips, which flared tauntingly below a tapered waist.
He didn't believe it, but there was no way this girl could not be Tara Creighton Ward.
"You've grown up," Alan finally found her voice. Tara's eyebrow rose higher.
"Bound to happen. Now, care to tell me who the hell you are, or am I going to have to call security?"
Alan couldn't help but crack a smile.
"I didn't think I'd changed that much, Tari," the blonde's lips pursed in confusion.
The next words she spoke were carefully enunciated.
"Alan?" she spoke slowly, almost unsure. His smile widened.
"What?" he asked, holding out his arms, "No hug?"
Tara laughed, walking into his embrace and hugging him back.
"C'mon. Virgil's waiting," Alan said, breaking off from the blonde. She nodded, swinging her bag over her right shoulder, and looking over her left.
"Have a good break, Miss. Smithe!"
"You too Tara," the woman laughed and shook her head as the girl raced out after her ride.
Tara leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes, basking in the warmth of the sunlight on the open road.
Alan glanced over at her, eyebrows raised.
"You alright there, Tari?" Azure peeped out between closed lids.
"Yeah," she spoke softly, "I'm just... really grateful to be out of there, even if it is only for mid-year break,"
Alan smiled, but said nothing in response.
"Ra-ra!" cerulean glinted dangerously as Tara narrowed her eyes.
"Virgil, don't be a bastard. If you call me that one-more-fucking-time, I swear I will not hesitate to what few balls you have right-fucking-off,"
Neither Tracy brother knew how to take that, so they settled with staring in openmouthed horror.
Tara glanced from one to the other, eyebrow cocked.
"What?"
"He... but... We…" Alan stuttered, "You swore!"
"Very astute, Einstein. Any other statements of the obvious you'd like to make before we get going? How about "The sky is blue"? or "I have two feet!"?"
There were a few moments of silence before Virgil spoke again.
"Well," he cleared his throat awkwardly, "You've changed," Tara shrugged.
"Bound to happen. Now, come on boys, let's get this hunk of junk moving,"
The middle Tracy brother spun around, indignant.
"Did you just call Thunderbird 2 a "hunk of junk"?"
"Wow. Someone's become hard of hearing in his old age," Tara's words were biting, "Yes I did, grandpa. It needs a wash, and from the looks of things, a wax, polish and service too," the blonde strode up the ramp into the ship before either boy could retort
Virgil's eyes narrowed.
"God," he muttered, "She's turned into a bitch,"
Alan sighed.
"I'm sure she has her reasons, Virg,"
As Alan trekked up the ramp into the pod, he couldn't help but think one thing:
Tara had changed.
And she certainly wasn't the little girl he remembered. Not anymore.
The moment Tracy Island came into view, Tara let out a low sigh.
It had been too long since she'd last been here.
Thunderbird 2 pulled into its silo, the rock-face creeping behind them to seal the entrance. Virgil and Alan clambered out, the latter turning to see if Tara needed any help. She smirked in response, and dropped from the 'bird, landing in a crouch.
She stood, straightening herself out and brushing her hair away from her eyes with a finger.
Neither boy commented.
"Lady P'll be pleased to see you," Virgil tried to keep his tone light, but he was still bristling from her earlier insults.
Tara shrugged.
"I think we both know that's total bullshit, but whatever helps you sleep at night, I guess,"
"Tara!" her eyes darted to the youngest brother, who gave her a disapproving glance. She arched an eyebrow in response.
The three entered the dining room, and there was immediately an explosion from the penultimate Tracy.
"RA-RA!" The girl's fists clenched and a feral growl tore from her curled lips.
"Don't. call. me. that." Her voice was dangerously low and quiet, her tone making the air crackle with friction.
Scott, as a precaution, of course, immediately locked the drawer to the cutlery. Alan shot his older brother a warning glance.
In the tense silence which resulted, Penelope's heels could be clearly heard on the wooden floors.
"Tara!" the flashing azure eyes immediately dulled as she plastered a false smile on her features.
"Mother!" she hugged Penelope, tossing Alan a begging glance.
Before the aristocrat could speak, Alan intervened.
"How about I show Tara where she'll be staying, Lady P? Give her a chance to relax a bit before we start?"
"Yes," Penelope broke off from her daughter, eyeing the girl, "Yes, that sounds like a fine idea, Alan. And it'll let you get changed out of those clothes, Tara," the teen stiffened.
"What's wrong with my clothes?"
"Pardon?"
"My clothes," Tara demanded, "What's wrong with them?" Penelope was taken aback.
Once again, the room was caught in a fricative silence.
After a few moments of careful thinking, Penelope spoke.
"Nothing," she paused, once more considering her words, "I just assumed you might wish to change from your journey," Tara snorted and turned aside, hefting her bag over her shoulder.
"Where am I staying?" Wordlessly, Alan showed her up the stairs and to the guest bedroom.
The room was fairly bland and Spartan, with minimal furniture, decoration or colour. The walls were off-white, the floors covered in a cream carpet. The bed was made up with cream sheets and a beige doona.
Really, its only redeeming feature was the large window, facing north, and capturing a view of the pool area, parts of the beach, and the seemingly endless sea.
Tara dumped her bag by the door and walked straight towards the window.
She pressed a hand to the glass, and frowned as memories assaulted her mind.
- - - - - -
The ten year old blonde girl wandered through the house, determined to find some new aspect to the Tracy home. She peered into each room with innocent curiosity, before finding the plain room with the large window.
Checking no-one was around, Tara tiptoed to the window and looked out.
Alan and Tin-tin were seated by the pool, talking. Alan laughed. The girl desperately wished she could read lips to know exactly what they were talking about.
She squinted, trying to discern something of their discussion.
Sighing, she leaned against the windowsill, pressing her forehead to the glass.
It was then she noticed the intertwined hands.
Tara was confused.
Her Alan wouldn't be like that with Tin-tin, would he?
She frowned, just as Tin-tin grimaced, what Tara assumed was, disgust at something.
Again, Alan laughed, but this time he leaned forward and pressed his lips against the dark-haired girl's wrinkled nose.
Tara couldn't place exactly why it was that she felt so betrayed, but she knew that something in her heart hurt that day.
She didn't speak to Alan or Tin-tin again for the rest of her stay at the island.
- - - - - -
Alan studied the silent blonde with interest.
Despite the tough act she put on downstairs with her brother, he could see that she wasn't really as hostile as she seemed.
In fact, that false façade seemed to have melted away as soon as she looked out the window.
Her face was passive, her eyes almost...
...sad?
No, Alan shook his head, Couldn't be that.
"Tari?" he asked tentatively, "Are you alright?"
Azure eyes snapped over to the boy, and Tara furiously rubbed at her eyes.
"Me? Yeah. I'm fine,"
"Want me to leave you alone to get changed or something...?"
"Please," Tara cleared her throat, "If you wouldn't mind..." Alan nodded, flashing her a small smile.
"Welcome back, Tari," she gave him a weak grin in response.
"Thanks, Alan," the blond shut the door behind him, and as soon as she was alone, the girl sank to the floor, hugging her legs to her chest.
'Funny,' she thought, 'I never thought I'd actually not want to be anywhere near Tracy island back then...'
She pressed her forehead to her knees and sighed.
