Disclaimer: I still can't claim ownership of the Tracys, International Rescue, or the Thunderbirds.

A/N: Thanks to those who are still reading this story even with the long delays between updates.

Busted

"How mad is Johnny?" Virgil asked, looking at his only older brother. The two brothers sat on the floor of Scott's bedroom and watched the puppy investigate his surroundings. They also listened out for their younger brothers. They knew Alan was in his bedroom playing as they could hear him playing with his cars. Gordon, they knew, was cleaning up the mess he made in their dad's bathroom.

Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair. Virgil knew from that simple gesture that Scott was frustrated. "He wouldn't let me in his room. He was sitting on the floor with his back against the door and his feet wedged against the wall."

Virgil snickered. "Want me to talk to him?"

"I don't want to talk to you either, Virg." John may have been in the next room but his words were quite clear. "Just because you're both older doesn't mean you know more." A brief pause and they heard his muttered, "Bossy big brothers don't know everything."

Growling low in his throat, Scott jumped to his feet and bellowed, "That's it, Johnny, I've had enough of your attitude."

A loud thump could be heard from John's room just before his bedroom door slammed against the wall as he threw it open and stomped into the hallway. "Yeah? Well, I've had enough of you bossing me around." The two brothers glared at each. Scott determined to make his younger brother remember and understand his place. And Johnny was equally determined to be his own person and not stand down.

"Scott Carpenter and John Glenn Tracy, that is quite enough from the both of you." Grandma suddenly materialized at the top of the stairs just as the puppy made his way to the open doorway and into the hallway, barking. Virgil's eyes widened and Scott's head dropped to his chest. She walked closer to her oldest and middle grandsons. "What exactly is that?"

"Grandma, that's a puppy," Alan supplied helpfully from just behind her.

"Yep, and I named him Wolfie," Gordon added, suspiciously near his father's bedroom door.

Staring down at her grandsons, she sighed. "I know it's a puppy but why is that puppy in our home?"

Before Scott could say anything, Gordon piped up, "Well, Grandma, we've wanted a puppy for so long that I reckon God got tired of hearing us asking for one."

Sighing again, she made a silent prayer, "God, grant me the strength to deal with my grandsons. I'm thankful that they're all intelligent but perhaps, a little less intelligence in this matter would be a good thing."

Virgil couldn't help the snort of laughter that suddenly had him doubled over laughing. Only his younger brother would have the courage – or stupidity, depending on how you looked at it – to say something like that to their grandmother.

Unfortunately for them all, Gordon wasn't done. "You told us that God helps those who help themselves. I reckon that's why I was able to hear the puppy crying for us to help him 'cause he couldn't help himself. So's Johnny climbed down to the creek and saved the puppy. Only he slipped and got his foot and leg all wet." John stopped glaring at Scott and shifted his gaze to the floor and felt his neck and face get hot. Virgil's laughter immediately quieted as his eyes met Scott's. "Grandma, it really scared me…I mean, it scared Alan 'cause he thought Johnny got hurt."

"Nuh-uh, Gordy, I wasn't scared," Alan retorted, tugging his grandma's hand. "I wasn't scared, Grandma, honest 'cause I knew Scotty would make sure that Johnny was alright."

Her sharp gaze settled on her middle grandson, "Is that how you slipped in the creek, John?"

Still staring at the floor, he nodded. "Yes, Ma'am. I wanted to help Scotty rescue the puppy and…and…" He saw something out of the corner of his eye that made him gasp and catch Scott's attention as well.

Moving quickly, Scott scooped up the puppy and ran by Grandma. "Excuse me, Grandma, but I think he has to go outside."

She watched him run down the stairs, holding the puppy away from him. "What do you boys think you're going to do with a puppy?"

"We'll take good care of him, Grandma," Virgil said. "Between the five of us, it shouldn't be too hard."

"What about when you're at school? Who is going to take care of him them?" She asked.

"He can go into a stall out in the barn. We can put some hay in it so he stays warm and set a bowl of water and food out there for him, too, "John volunteered. "And we can clean the stall when we get home."

She shifted her gaze between each of the brothers before asking her final and most problematic question. "And who is going to ask your father for permission to keep it?"

The boys traded uncertain looks before turning their hopeful eyes to her. "We love you, Grandma."