A/N: I can't believe that people actually liked the Turtles chapter! That's hilarious! Thank you everyone (also thank you so much to my Japanese guest reader for a proper translation of 'here's mud in your automated eye'! You are wonderful, thank you!). I hope you enjoy this chapter. This is slightly less silly. Slightly. I refuse to apologise to anyone for my unending shipping of Jeff/Penelope.

The title is taken from Men At Work's song Land Down Under, and if you didn't know that then I don't know what to tell you.

2. Women Glow and Men Plunder

"But... but... M'LADY!"

"Parker, I do believe you are turning into something of a snob," Penelope said, a smile in her voice that always seemed to let Parker know when he was overstepping his mark. "There's absolutely nothing wrong with flying on a charter plane."

"Yes, M'Lady," he said in a dejected voice. Penelope smiled. He was using Yes M'Lady #36. Parker had at least sixty-two different intonations of saying "Yes, M'Lady," and very few of them actually meant a simple acknowledgement of instruction. Most of them indicated that he felt put upon and was not remotely on board for any of her plans, yet he had no choice but to comply. "H'it still seems to be h'a lot of trouble to go such h'a long way. Your farm in h'Australia will take you days to get to."

"Don't exaggerate, Parker. It's 2060, not 1960. Mechanical engineering has progressed a little since then, you know."

"h'I'm sure Scott would've taken you in Thunderbird One h'if you'd h'asked 'im," Parker said.

"Yes, Parker, I am sure that Scott would have taken me anywhere if I'd asked him, providing that he didn't have a rescue to attend to. Besides, what would Jeff Tracy have said if he knew one of the Thunderbirds was being used for a pleasure cruise?" she asked. "He would quite simply have a pink fit!"

"Mr Tracy 'asn't been 'ere for two months, M'Lady," Parker said, sullenly. Penelope set her jaw and breathed deeply before speaking.

"Jeff is missing. He is not dead. Please don't talk about my friend as though he isn't here any more. I know he's alive. I absolutely know it."

Parker was silent for a few moments, trying to figure out the most appropriate response. Eventually, he couldn't hold his feelings in any more. "But a CHARTER flight, M'Lady!"

"Yes, Parker. A charter flight."

"Look what 'appened to Miss Kyrano when she last got h'a charter plane!"

"That was an entirely different situation, Parker. I will not be travelling via Fireflash and if the Hood decides to sabotage the plane, which I strongly doubt, then I'm afraid that's just terribly bad luck," she said, sternly. "Now. Will you please start the engine? I fastened my seatbelt fifteen minutes ago, and I believe I need to be there within thirty minutes if I want to check-in on time," she said, leaning back in her seat and closing her eyes to signify the end of the conversation. Parker rolled his eyes and sighed like a sulky teenager.

"Yes, M'Lady," he mumbled. Penelope grinned. Yes M'Lady #22 - roughly translated as, "I'll do it, but if this goes wrong and you break your neck, don't come running to me, M'Lady."

The journey to the airport was rather quiet, as Parker's silent disapproval was almost deafening. Penelope had no desire to go through the rigmarole of arranging a private flight to her farm, having the private air hostesses bothering her every five minutes to top up her drink, the pilot trying to make polite chit-chat, the peculiar feeling of being the only passenger and the sole focus of attention. She wanted a little anonymity and to just blend in with everyone else for a while, have the complete freedom of nobody knowing who she was.

Perhaps the distraction of a plane full of chatter would stop her from thinking about Jeff. Every time she spent any amount of time at her farm, she remembered fondly the time she forced Jeff into having a holiday there. He had kicked against it, of course, but he was exhausted and he needed to stop. He needed to get far away from Tracy Island and International Rescue and catch up on sleep, recharge his batteries and remember who Jeff was. He wasn't the tired, stressed out, short-tempered leader of International Rescue and Tracy Industries. He was her friend, a funny, smart, kind-hearted man who would do anything to make the people he loved happy. He always had time to talk about anything that was on his sons' minds, on her mind, and either offer emotional support or try and help come up with a practical solution to any problem he was presented with. Occasionally, he'd personally go into Tracy Industries' main headquarters and stop the domestic staff from working, take them all for breakfast and chat to them about anything that was worrying them, whether it was work related or not. He genuinely cared for people. But too many months of burning the candle at both ends had turned him into a grumpy man who only wanted two extra hours in the day so he could spend them worrying about everything.

He had only stayed a few days with her before he felt he had to return home. She shook her head as she remembered how anxious he was to make sure his sons were safe. She was sure that, even after all these years, he would only ever be able to start relaxing when all of his sons were tucked up safely in bed.

It was the second time she had been to the farm since Jeff had gone missing. Even though she had owned the farm for much longer than she had known Jeff, even though Jeff hadn't visited the farm very often, she had thought about him there more than ever while she had been there last time. She hoped things would be easier this time. Somehow, even after two months, she still didn't miss Jeff any less. He had been such a huge part of her life for so long and then, suddenly, with no warning, he was gone. She hadn't had chance to say goodbye. She hadn't had chance to see his slow, dimpled smile, or be uncomfortably conscious that her cheeks were reddening as she felt his gaze upon her one last time. He was just gone. Oh yes, she knew his body had never been found, but after two months, her hope was all but gone that he'd ever come back, no matter how bravely she talked about it to Parker. She knew she was able to cope without him, she knew the next generation of Tracys were more than capable of looking after themselves. International Rescue was in no danger of imploding just because Jeff wasn't there. She was in no danger of imploding just because Jeff wasn't there. It didn't alter the fact that she wanted him to be there every second that he wasn't, though.

A long, weary journey later, including a four-hour drive from the airport to the farm, and Penelope heard the satisfying click as the key turned in the lock of the front door. It wasn't pitch dark, so she wandered through the living room without turning the light on, lazily throwing her coat over a chair and dropping her handbag on the floor.

Creak...

Penelope stopped suddenly, every nerve fibre on edge. Someone was in her house. It was dark, somehow it seemed about fifty times darker than it had done three seconds ago, and someone was in her house. All she had to defend herself with was her twelve-hundred-dollar Louis Vuitton stilettos, and she had no intention of ruining a perfectly good pair of shoes on an intruder. She had to think of another way, and fast.

Creak...

There it was again. She frowned. Whoever was in the room had absolutely no skills in sneaking up on anyone. They would make a terrible ninja.

"I know you're there!" she called, trying to sound brave but unable to hide the tremble in her voice. "I'm not afraid!" she said, not very believably. She heard a breath of laughter and her hands started shaking. Was this it? Was this how she was to die? Parker would be torn between being upset about needing to find a new job and feeling smug about the fact that her decision to take a charter flight had ended terribly.

When she felt a strong, heavy hand on her shoulder she screamed briefly before grabbing the hand and its adjoined arm, twisting her body and flooring the intruder. She could just about make out the outline of a man, and so she put her shoes to good use and kicked him sharply and swiftly between the legs. He cried out in agony and suddenly Penelope realised she had made a terrible mistake.

"Christ, Penny, I still need to use that!"

"Jeff?" she asked, in a small voice. Her heart pounded in her chest and the air seemed to have completely disappeared from the room. "Jeff, is that you?" she demanded, urgently.

"I kinda wish it wasn't," he said, weakly, before rolling over and groaning in pain. She rushed over to the wall and felt for the light switch. When she turned back, she saw Jeff lying on the floor in the foetal position, tears streaming down his face. She instantly felt guilty.

"Oh my god, Jeff! JEFF!" she shouted, rushing over to him. "I am SO sorry," she said, helping him up and into a chair. "Oh JEFF!" she said, choking back a sob as she threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. "I thought you were dead," she said, kissing every last inch of his face before hugging him again. "Oh my god, Jeff, I really thought you were dead!"

"Hey, shh, don't. It's all right, Penny. It's all right," he said, soothingly, holding her close to him and stroking her hair gently. "It's okay. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I worried you. I've been trying to get to call you for weeks," he said.

"I didn't even know where or how to start searching for you," she said. She closed her eyes and silently revelled in the feeling of being held in his arms again.

"I've missed you so much," he whispered, holding her even more tightly to him as he spoke. She trembled slightly and pulled away from him just enough to kiss him. She didn't know whether she had missed his arms or his lips more but now she had both at the same time she could barely remember what her life had been like without them. She forgot all the sleepless nights, all the tears, all the worry and the stress and the keeping a brave face because nobody knew... god, nobody could ever know, she didn't think she could ever explain just how much Jeff Tracy meant to her.

"I can't believe you're really here," she said, her voice filled with wonder. "How did you end up here, of all places?"

"I dunno. The plane came down somewhere in the bush. I have no idea where I was, I had no ID, no wallet, no phone, nothing. I spent the last eight weeks hitching rides across the country. I walked a lot. I got here two days ago and I slept for about twenty-four hours," he said.

"How did you get in?"

"One of your farmhands recognised me. I dunno how, I looked like the wild man of the woods, I hadn't even changed my shirt in eight weeks. I made Papa Smurf look clean-shaven!" he joked. She laughed.

"I'm so very glad that farmhand was around," she said.

"Not as glad as I am! Lucky I left most of my stuff here from that time I stayed with you for those five minutes," he said. "I wanted to call as soon as I got here, I just... I didn't know what to say."

"You could've tried 'hello', that's a socially acceptable greeting in most cultures," she said, her eyes twinkling. She couldn't remember the last time she had smiled so broadly without consciously making the effort to do so. Jeff was safe. Jeff was alive. He was alive and she was sitting next to him and he was real. He was real and warm and soft, and his hands were rough and gentle and they held hers so securely she didn't think she'd ever be afraid again, and he smelled of soap and aftershave and he was everything she had missed about him.

"I thought something as simple as 'hello' after two months of nothing would probably feel a little inappropriate," he admitted.

"To be fair, so was a kick in the balls," she said, blushing slightly. He laughed.

"I guess so," he agreed.

"Thank you for not making any jokes about me rubbing it better," she added with a chuckle far dirtier than she had originally intended.

"I've gotta admit I was definitely thinking it," he said with a knowing smirk. She stroked his face and pressed her lips gently against his.

"Perhaps later," she said with a wry grin. He wiggled his eyebrows as his grin quickly took over his entire face. His facial expression then became quite grave and he pursed his lips thoughtfully. "What is it?" she asked, concerned.

"I guess I should call the boys," he said. She shook her head.

"Oh no, you don't!" she insisted, clutching the collar of his shirt firmly in one hand. "I've only just this minute got you back, Jefferson Grant Tracy. For tonight, I want to keep you all to myself," she said, her eyes gleaming.

"You sure make a convincing argument," he murmured, pulling her closer to him and kissing her deeply.