04 Four

Through the video link that was the picture in the arctic maintenance bay, John grinned at three of his brothers. "So, what's the latest in the Tracy soap opera?"

"Dad and Cubby have spent most of the time going for walks together," Virgil told him. "And we've tried to leave them alone as much as possible…"

"Which has meant putting up with Scott going around like a bear with a sore head," Alan grumbled. "I'll be glad when she goes home the day after tomorrow and things get back to normal."

"Do you think things will be 'normal' again?" Gordon asked. "They seem to be getting pretty serious."

Alan shrugged. "How serious can you get after only a couple of days?" and wondered why Gordon gave him a curious look.

"I think you know that I've no problems with Dad and Cubby getting together," John said. "And we all have no doubts about Scott's thoughts on the issue. But what I don't know is how you three feel."

Three brothers exchanged glances.

"Come on," John cajoled. "You must have an opinion."

"Pass," Gordon said.

John raised a querying eyebrow at him. "You must have some thoughts on the issue, Gordon. Yes? No?"

"If I knew what Scott's problem was I'd be more able to make a decision. What if he knows something important that we don't?"

"Don't you think he'd tell us if he did?"

"The way he's behaving I don't know what to think."

"Okay…" John conceded. "Virgil? I'll guess you've got divided loyalties?"

"I am able to make up my own mind," Virgil reminded him. "But in this case I will admit to being in two minds."

"Great. So we've got to deal with schizophrenia as well as everything else," Gordon teased.

Virgil ignored him. "What I mean is that you kind of grow up thinking your parents are… asexual. And then when you suddenly discover that they're not..." He shrugged.

"I can understand that," John said. "So are you leaning towards Dad or Scott?"

"Like Gordon, if I knew what Scott's concerns were I'd be able to give you a more informed answer."

John fixed Virgil with an enquiring stare. "Have you found out anything about why he's so anti this relationship?"

"He refuses to discuss it," Virgil said. "I tried and he growled at me. Then I asked him to at least show Cubby some respect and he bit my head off." He rubbed his neck. "I've probably still got the tooth marks."

"Do you think it's because he thinks Dad's being disloyal to Ma's memory?"

Virgil shrugged. "It's a possibility, but I have a feeling it goes deeper than that. Like I said he won't discuss it."

"And if he won't discuss it with you, he won't discuss it with anyone," Gordon noted. "So I'm not even going to try."

"Do you guys think Dad's being disloyal to Ma?" John asked. "Is that why you can't make up your minds?" Deciding that the only way he'd get a straight answer was to put his brothers on the spot, he turned to the youngest. "Alan?"

"It wouldn't worry me if he was..." Alan flinched at his brothers' stares and averted his gaze to some spots of white paint on the floor.

"Alan?" Gordon queried.

Alan decided that the collection of splotches reminded him of the constellation known as the Big Dipper.

"That's an odd way of putting it," Virgil said. "Why do you say that?"

"I don't remember Ma," Alan admitted. "So she doesn't mean anything to me. I mean, I know that biologically she was pretty important in all our lives, but as a person she's… she's a stranger. She's this woman in family photographs that I don't know." He looked up seeing shocked faces and avoided John's gaze. "I mean, I think we've talked more about Ma these last few days since Cubby arrived than we probably have my whole life! I'm sorry, fellas, but… I… I don't have an emotional attachment to her."

John gave a slow shake to his head. "That," he said with feeling, "has got to be the saddest thing I've ever heard."

"It doesn't feel like that to me," Alan assured him. "It's all I know. You know what they say, what the mind doesn't know, the heart doesn't grieve over."

"Well, whatever you do, don't tell Dad," John warned.

"Ah… He already knows." Alan's eyes were on the constellation again as he cringed at the memories. He thrust his hands into his pockets. "It came out in a shouting match once." As had often happened during his teens, he and his father had been at each other's throats. Jeff, angry, frustrated, and just the wrong side of in control had asked Alan if he'd considered what his mother would have thought of his behaviour; and Alan, annoyed by his father's interrogations, had replied that he didn't care as she was nothing in his life because he didn't remember her.

The exchange had stunned them both and, without another word to each other, they had gone their separate ways. Later when they'd had time to cool down, they'd apologised; Jeff for using Lucille as a blackmail tool and Alan for throwing the revelation in his father's face.

The irony of the whole experience was that Alan couldn't even remember what the initial argument had been about.

"What did he say?" Virgil was asking.

"He was shocked."

Gordon fixed the young blonde with a critical stare. "I'll bet that's putting it mildly."

"I wouldn't mention it to Scott either," Virgil cautioned. "That'd really send him off the deep end."

"Don't worry," Alan assured them, "I've got no plans to."

Footsteps behind them heralded the arrival of their eldest brother. "Haven't you guys got anything better to do than stand around and gossip?" Scott growled.

"We… We've been talking," John admitted, wishing that they hadn't.

"I can guess about what."

Not wanting to start yet another argument so soon after his younger sibling's revelations John said, "Actually we were discussing our memories of Ma." Alan shot his brother a panicked look.

Scott looked interested. "Really?"

John nodded. "We were commenting on how some were clearer than others. For instance I remember that she loved pansies, she had a whole border of them around the house. But I can't for the life of me remember her favourite colour."

"Yellow," Scott recollected. "She loved yellow. Remember that dress she had? She called it her sunbeam dress because it was bright yellow and wearing it always made her feel happy. She dressed us all in yellow when we were babies…"

---F-A-B---

Ursula's dress, with its pale floral print, felt cool against her skin as she and Jeff walked along the beach, warm sands giving beneath their bare feet. The shop assistant had assured her that this was exactly the right style to wear in tropical climes and Ursula had to admit that, despite it having been at the end of an English winter, the assistant had been right. She gave a sigh of contentment. "You're looking very handsome today. That yellow shirt suits you."

"It's just something I threw on," Jeff lied. In reality he'd spent ages going through his wardrobe to find the right look. "Happy?" he asked.

"Mmn, yes. Walking along a golden beach, a gentle breeze, the blue ocean…" Ursula looked up at the man who was holding her hand, "you…" She stood on tip-toe to meet his kiss. "I can't think of anything better."

"Me neither," he agreed. "The world with all its troubles seems so far away." He gestured over the waters. "An ocean away… As if you and I have been shipwrecked alone on a deserted isle… Not a place with some of the world's most advanced machinery humming away under our feet."

"If we were shipwrecked," Ursula asked. "What's the one thing you'd want to bring with you?"

He looked down at her with a twinkle in his eye. "You."

She dug him in the ribs. "Apart from me."

"Apart from you?" Jeff screwed up his face as he thought. "Under normal circumstances I'd say Brains, because he'd probably come up a way of getting us rescued. Or Kyrano, because he'd know what foods we could eat. If it had to be something non-human, I would have said a radio so we could call Thunderbird Five. But if I had to choose between rescue and spending the rest of my life alone with you… I'd choose a big stick."

Ursula looked at him with a quizzical expression. "A big stick?"

"Yes. Like this." Jeff bent down and picked up a long, broad stick. "Then I could do this." He let go of her hand and jogged closer to the water's edge. The sands became his canvas and the stick his brush as he drew the outline of a giant heart pierced by an arrow and surrounded by two sets of initials – JT and UW. Then he stood back to admire his handiwork. "Guess Virgil didn't inherit his talent from me."

"I think it's lovely," Ursula told him. "It doesn't matter that one side's fatter than the other." She squinted at the valentine. "Besides if we were to stand back here, so we're looking at it at an angle…" She took a step backwards. "Oh!" There was a loud crack as she fell over onto the sand.

"Cubby!" Jeff dropped the stick and ran to her side. "Are you all right? Are you hurt?"

Ursula struggled into a sitting position. "I'm okay."

"What was that noise?" he asked anxiously. "I thought you'd broken something."

"I stood on something," Ursula admitted. She grimaced. "My foot…"

"Here, let me look." Tenderly Jeff examined the sole of her foot. "You've got a bit of a cut there… Probably on a shell."

"My ankle's hurting too," Ursula winced. "I think I must have twisted it."

Jeff pulled a clean white handkerchief from out of his pocket and dabbed at the cut to clear the sand away. "I don't think it's too deep, but I'll get Brains to look at you." He lifted his arm. "Tracy to Brains."

Ursula heard the reply. "Y-Yes, Mr T-Tracy?"

"Mrs White's cut her foot and twisted her ankle. I don't think it's anything serious, but I'd like it checked out."

"Y-Yes, Mr T-Tracy," Brains repeated.

"I don't want a fuss, Jeff."

"It's no fuss," he told her. "We've got our own medico on tap and we may as well use him." The handkerchief was tied around her foot before he checked her ankle. "I don't think you've broken anything."

"I could have told you that."

Jeff fixed Ursula with an impish grin. "Would you like me to kiss it better?"

"No. I'd rather you kissed me better."

Jeff was happy to oblige. Then he slipped his arms beneath her and picked her up.

"Jeff! Put me down!"

"No. You're not getting any more sand into that cut and you're not to put any weight on that ankle."

"I'm too heavy!"

"No, you're not." To prove his point Jeff easily traversed the path and made his way to the cable car that led up to the villa. He settled Ursula down on the seat. "Okay?"

"I'm fine, Jeff," Ursula smiled at him. "I don't need Brains to look at me."

Jeff set the cable car in motion. "I'm going to make sure that you return home as perfect as when you left. Otherwise your children might not let you visit again."

"I suppose it'll make a change for Brains from examining hulking great men." Then Ursula giggled. "Do you think he even knows what a woman's leg looks like?"

"That is a cruel thing to say," Jeff replied. Then he grinned. "I don't think he even notices when Tin-Tin's wearing a mini skirt."

"I'll bet Alan does."

"Oh, yes. You could knock his eyeballs off with a pool cue… And between you and me, the others aren't averse to a sly look either, though they'd never admit it. They all claim she's more like a little sister to them."

"Only the boys?" Ursula teased.

"That girl is like a daughter to me."

"Yeah, right."

The cable car reached its zenith.

---F-A-B---

Almost inevitably the conversation has slid back to the subject of Jeff and Cubby. Almost inevitably Scott's mood had darkened. He was growling again.

"Come on, Scott. Lighten up," Gordon pleaded. "It's not like he's a sucker for everything in a skirt that throws herself at him." He nudged Alan. "Right?"

"Right," Alan nodded.

"Remember that time the three of us were at the office in New York, Alan?" Gordon asked. "Remember 'Bimbo'?"

"You mean Bambi…" Alan frowned. "Or was it Barbie?"

"Whatever. It was pretty easy to see what she was after."

"It was pretty easy to see most things," Alan remembered. He gave a low whistle. "I've seen people who've had their clothes blown off in an explosion showing less skin. She was the type who gave us blondes a bad name."

"She was a gold-digger with a capital G," Gordon added. "She wanted Dad and his money and he took one look at her and retreated to his office for the rest of the day."

"Leaving us to get rid of her," Alan added.

Gordon gave a sly grin. "I thought I'd let her down gently; so I gave her a full dose of the Tracy charm."

"Did she recover?" John asked. "Or are they still trying to cure her?"

Gordon pretended to look indignant. "Hey! I gave her a good time. I bought her a drink and then I showed her how lucky she was to be spending time with me rather than the old man." There were retching sounds from his brothers, which he ignored. "I thought I'd try to impress her so I told her that I had been with WASP. She replied that the uniforms must have been pretty. While I was still scratching my head over that, she asked if I found that the stripes made me look fat."

"Stripes?" Virgil asked.

"Yeah," Gordon drawled. "The uniform's yellow and black horizontal stripes. When I explained that the name of the organisation was World Aquanaut Security Patrol and that uniform was grey, but that the insignia was a wasp, she shuddered and said she couldn't bear the thought of having insects crawl all over her…"

There was a chuckle from his brothers and a slight upturning of his mouth from Scott.

"At that point I gave up on detailing my distinguished military career and thought I'd go for the sympathy vote; so I told her that I'd crashed my hydrofoil doing 400 knots. She asked, "Not what?"" He rolled his eyes heavenward as his brothers laughed and Scott managed a smile. "I explained that a knot was one nautical mile per hour or the equivalent to 1.852 kilometres per hour, so I'd been travelling at seven hundred and forty kilometres an hour when I crashed. She looked right at me with her big blue eyes and asked, "Did you survive?"

Scott laughed outright. "You're kidding?"

"I swear she did… I said, no, I was a clone; which I think gave her the creeps."

"Cloned Gordon," John said. "You're right. That is creepy."

"Do you want to hear this?" Gordon asked.

"I do," Scott exclaimed. "Go on, Gordon. What happened next?"

Gordon gave himself a metaphorical pat on the back. "I went in for the king hit. I told her that I'd won an Olympic gold medal."

"That should have impressed her," Virgil said.

"Oh… It did. She asked me what I played."

Scott frowned in bemusement, totally wrapped up in the tale. "Played?"

"Yep. That was her word. I said I got my gold in the butterfly. "Oh!" she asks. "How many did you catch?" I explained that the 'fly was a swimming stroke like freestyle or backstroke… I should have known to stop at that point, but I had to add breaststroke, didn't I?"

"What's wrong with that?" Scott asked.

"She giggled. Then she gave me a look that suggested that she liked me talking dirty and shifted closer asking if I felt like practising it now. It was at that point that I suggested that we go somewhere more private."

"You dirty…!" Scott exclaimed. "Did she agree?"

"Oh, yeah," Gordon preened. "Look what was on offer." He spread his arms wide. "Who wouldn't?"

Alan groaned. "Give me strength," he muttered.

"So, I took her hand, led her outside, and called a cab. All the while she's patting her hair and putting more lipstick on. The taxi arrived, I helped her inside, gave the driver $1000, told him to make sure that she got home safely… and…" He paused.

"Don't stop!" Scott ordered. "And what?"

"Grabbed the next plane out of the country…"

Scott laughed.

Alan pulled Gordon to one side. "Liar," he whispered. "As soon as Dad went back up to his office, you called the security guard and he escorted her off the premises with the threat of a trespass order."

"But that story's not nearly so entertaining." Gordon admitted. "And you've got to agree that it's cheered Scott up."

"True." Alan watched as his eldest brother wiped tears of laughter from his eyes.

---F-A-B---

Trying not to be obvious about it, Brains was observing an interesting phenomenon. His employer was exhibiting characteristics that he'd never displayed before and Brains was finding the whole experience fascinating.

Jeff was at Ursula's bedside, holding her hand and fussing over her in such away that, in Brains' recollection, was unique in the annals of Tracy Island. Jeff Tracy had certainly never held his sons' hands when they were ill… if you didn't count the time when a rescue had gone disastrously wrong leaving a life hanging in the balance. That time Jeff had sat at the side of this bed for over 24 hours, holding a hand, caressing a face and cajoling and coaxing his son out of the coma. It was only after the crisis was over and things were back to normal that the invalid's brothers had teased that it was the threat of handing control of his Thunderbird over to someone else that had averted a tragedy.

"Does it hurt?" Jeff was asking, as he brushed a curl back off Ursula's face.

"Oh, stop being silly, Jeff," Ursula teased, catching his hand. But, Brains noted, her teasing was tempered by an obvious affection. "It's only a scratch."

"Brains?" Jeff turned to the International Rescue's medical expert. "It is only a scratch, isn't it?"

Both amazed and amused by the pleading note in Jeff's voice, Brains nodded. "I-I have cleaned the wound, Mrs Wh-White. A-As for your ankle, I-I would advise you to rest it with, ah, an ice pack."

Grandma Tracy came bustling into the room. "How are you, Ursula, dear? Are you all right?"

Ursula gave a reassuring laugh. "Of course I am. I'm being very well cared for, thank you."

"Y-You are welcome to rest here," Brains told Ursula, "b-but I am sure that you would prefer to ret-tire to your room."

"I think that would be very wise," Grandma agreed. "Can you walk?"

Brains had retrieved a wheelchair from a cupboard. "This would be better." He locked the brakes on the 'chair and watched as Jeff, treating Ursula as if she were made of bone china, helped her off the bed. When she was seated Jeff took control of the 'chair and wheeled her out of the sick bay.

Brains shared an astonished look with Mrs Tracy.

She laughed. "It's amazing how love can change a man, Brains." She followed the wheelchair out of the room and into the guest suite.

Ursula was in the process of gently slapping Jeff's hands away as he went to pick her up out of the chair. "You can help me to stand and hop over to my bed, Jeff Tracy. I don't need to be carried."

"Are you sure?"

Ursula gave a sigh of mock exasperation and got to her feet. "Oh, Jeff. You're hopeless."

Grandma spied something and gave a little cry of horror. "Ursula! Your lovely dress! It's got blood on it!"

"Has it?" Ursula tried to twist in Jeff's arms so that she could see the hem. "Where?"

"There!" Grandma grabbed the cloth and examined the stain. "I'll put that into soak now; it shouldn't be permanent. Outside, Jefferson!"

"But, Mother…"

"But, Mother, nothing. Ursula's going to get changed. We don't need your help with that."

Jeff found himself in the hallway.

---F-A-B---

"Alan?" Gordon said.

"Yes?"

"I've been thinking about what you said."

"What in particular?"

"Do you think there's any chance that Dad and Cubby had an affair when Ma was still alive?"

"I would doubt it. You heard what John said; it must have been obvious that he loved her too much to even contemplate anything extramarital."

"Yeah," Gordon agreed. "But John was talking about a time before we were born. What if after you and I came along Ma was that busy with the pair of us and Virgil, who would still have been pretty young, that she didn't have time for Dad?"

Alan goggled at his brother. "So you think he turned to Cubby for 'company'? But both Scott and John are convinced…"

"Would you leave evidence of your affair with your wife's best friend about so that your kids could find it? They'd have to be careful."

"But Cubby married Tommy…"

"Maybe the affair only lasted a little while."

"No," Alan shook his head. "No way. Not our father. It's impossible."

"Would you have thought that it was possible that he could have fallen head-over-heels in love with someone after less than a week?"

"No," Alan admitted. "I wouldn't have." He looked at his older brother. "But does it matter if they did have an affair? That was years ago."

"I suppose it doesn't," Gordon agreed. "Except that I'm curious."

"Well, you're going to have to stay curious."

"Aren't you curious too?"

"I am now that you've re…"

"Well, come on then."

Alan pulled his sleeve out from Gordon's grip. "Come on where?"

Gordon turned to face his brother and folded his arms. "There's only one way that we're going to find out the truth."

"And that would be how?" Alan had a horrible feeling that he already knew the answer.

"Ask Dad, of course."

"Ask Dad?!" Alan took a step backwards and held his hands up defensively. "No! No way, Gordon. Uh, uh. No. Never!"

---F-A-B---

Scott was whistling a cheerful tune as he wandered down the hallway to his room. Jeff, who had been standing at the window of his study looking down on the valentine in the sand, heard him. "Scott, would you mind coming in here, please?"

Scott hesitated. Whether or not he minded would depend on precisely what the conversation was going to be about. Not being one to disobey orders, he stepped into the study. "Do you want me to shut the door?"

Jeff gave what could have been construed as a nonchalant shrug. "You may as well. It'll stop us being interrupted."

On his guard, Scott slid the door home and then turned to face his father. "I didn't expect to see you in here."

"Cubby's twisted her ankle. She's resting." Jeff watched his son's facial muscles twitch as he suppressed his instinctive reaction to ask how she was. He sat on the edge of his desk. "You boys seem to be spending a lot of time in the maintenance bay. Any problems I should know about?"

Scott relaxed: so this was going to be a work-related conversation. "No. We're just fine tuning."

Jeff nodded. "Good. I haven't had a lot of time to check up on these things this week."

"No."

The room was quiet.

"I've had some ideas for a new piece of equipment," Scott offered. "I'd like to run them past you sometime soon."

"Major or incidentals?"

"Major. Maybe a whole new Thunderbird."

"Okay. In that case we'll leave it until after Cubby goes home. I'll want to be able to give it my full attention."

Scott fixed his father with an earnest stare. "Good. Because we're not getting any attention now."

"No, well, we agreed that this would be an easy week so we could all enjoy Cubby's company."

"And some are enjoying it more than others."

Jeff let the comment slide.

"If she's incapacitated we could discuss it now," Scott suggested.

"I think she'll be free shortly," Jeff replied, hoping to be able to slip back down to the guest room when his mother had left.

"But this could be important," Scott persisted. "It might save lives."

"I'm sure it will. But discussing it now won't bring it on stream any quicker. You know that we'll have to draw up plans, work through development, build a prototype, get construction materials, build it, test it, get everyone up to speed on it." Jeff spread out his hands in an explanatory gesture. "Two days won't make a difference."

"It could do if someone gets into trouble and we're two days from finalising all that," Scott said. "I think we should discuss it now."

"And I think we should wait. Now is not the time…"

"Because you've got her on your mind and you can't think about anything else!"

"I mean that neither of us is in the mood…"

"Don't bring me into this. I'm still fully committed to International Rescue… Unlike…"

"Scott…" Jeff growled.

"Well…!" Scott huffed. "You're behaving like a…"

Another growl from his father pulled the younger man up short. To give himself a chance to cool down, he wandered over to the window. "I'd like us to talk man-to-man," Jeff was saying.

Scott gazed outside. His eyes were drawn to a valentine on the beach…

"Can we do that?"

Scott stared at the valentine. Here was a visual testament to the feelings that his father felt towards Ursula White. He felt hot negative emotions flare up inside him.

Unable to see the flush that was creeping up his son's face, Jeff continued talking. "Can you tell me what you've got against Cubby?"

Scott pressed his hands and forehead against the cool glass.

"I'm willing to listen and to try and discuss this in a mature manner," Jeff carried on. "Is there something that you've seen that I haven't? Have you thought of a problem that I've missed? Have you found some reason why Cubby and I shouldn't, ah, be in a relationship? I know you, Scott, and you don't do anything without a logical reason…"

"Unlike you!" Scott rounded on him. "Can't you see what this crazy relationship is doing to us all?"

"No." Jeff frowned. "You appear to be the only one with an issue. Has something happened that I don't know about? Tell me, Scott."

"Tell you!?" Scott strode back so that he was face-to-face with his father. "Are you that blind that you can't see?!"

Jeff opened his hands in a gesture of appeasement. "I can't see why you are so upset. I never asked for this to happen and neither did Cubby."

"I'll bet!"

Counting to ten, Jeff swallowed his anger. "You know her well enough to know she's not like that."

"It's been years since we last knew her. She's changed."

"We've all changed. But not to that extent."

"If you," Scott mimed quotation marks, ""never asked for this to happen", does this mean you can stop it now?"

"No," Jeff said with simple honesty. "I don't think I can."

"Then we've nothing to talk about."

"But we do," Jeff exclaimed. "We can't carry on like this. It would destroy International Rescue and it would destroy the family." He inhaled deeply to try to clear his head. "Is it because of your mother…?" An exasperated sound escaped Scott's lips and Jeff felt a sinking feeling. "I still love her you know…"

"Do you!? You have a funny way of showing it!"

"What am I supposed to do? Deny these feelings for Cubby?"

"You're doing a pretty good job of denying your feelings for Ma… If you still have any."

"How dare…" Jeff took a deep breath. Losing his temper at this point would not help. "I've always loved your mother, Scott, and I always will. Losing her nearly killed me. Don't you remember?!"

"I remember," Scott snarled. "It was an act worthy of an Oscar!"

"An act…" Jeff's hands clenched into fists and, to distance himself from the source of his building rage, he walked behind the desk so it formed a barrier between the pair of them. "Are you deliberately trying to be hurtful?"

"You asked me to point out the facts. That's what I'm doing."

"No." Jeff shook his head. "That's not a fact. That's a lie and you know it. You've never lied to me before and you've never tried to deliberately hurt someone, especially not a family member." He leant on his desk. "What's happened, Scott? What changed you?"

There was no reply to his query.

"When I think back to the times, all those years ago, when you were children and I was struggling to cope. I'd lost my wife, my job, my future, my hopes… I don't know how many mornings I tried to deal with everything and felt totally overwhelmed by it all. I'd be at my wits end, trying to re-write yet another application for yet another nine-o-clock appointment with yet another uncaring bank; while Alan was refusing to eat his breakfast, Virgil was covered in paint, John was tired and grumpy and not wanting to go to school because he'd been up all night stargazing, and Gordon had tipped water all over himself. I'd be stressed out to the max, scared for the future and half expecting that this would be the day when the authorities would knock on our door and say, "I'm sorry, Mr Tracy, but you're not caring for your sons adequately. We are here to take them away." Jeff closed his eyes against those memories. "And then you'd come in, and you'd tell me that you'd dried Gordon and got Alan to eat and that they were now happily playing in their room. You'd say that you'd got Virgil cleaned up and he, you and John were about to leave for school. Then you'd place a mug of coffee on my desk and wish me luck with my meeting with the bank, say you were sure it would be a success this time, and then you'd leave. And all I'd want to do was wrap my arms about you and thank you and say how much I loved you and how I appreciated your help… You don't know what that meant to me, Scott. It helped keep me sane."

Scott stared at a spot on the wall.

"Do you remember the mug? It had the inscription 'World's Greatest Dad' written on it and I would look at it and think I wasn't even close to being the world's greatest. A contender for the world's worst maybe, but certainly not the greatest… And then I would think that what I was, was the world's luckiest; and that I was lucky because of you. I know that I relied on you more than I should. You were only a child and for those first months until your grandmother came to live with us I leant on you for support. But, Scott, without your support I… we would have been lost. I'm sure this family would have been torn apart. Many's the time that I thought that that morning mug wasn't just a cup of coffee, it was the glue that kept us together. And it was thanks to you that I was able to keep it together." Jeff took a breath, surprised at the length of his speech and the amount of emotion that he'd poured into it. "Why won't you support me now?"

Scott turned on his heel and marched out the door.

Jeff sagged into his chair.

A notebook was sitting on the desk and he picked it up. His dictation, followed by his signature, lay on the topmost page. "I've been happier these last 24 hours than I have been in years," Jeff read. He dropped the notebook. "What a difference a day makes…"

There was a knock on the door. "Hey, Dad," Gordon said.

Jeff made a gesture which Gordon took to be an invitation into the study. He entered the room, dragging an obviously unwilling Alan with him.

Jeff pushed the notebook away. "Can I ask you boys a question?"

"Yes!" Alan said eagerly, hoping to at least delay Gordon's plan.

"Do you have any idea what's wrong with Scott?"

His sons looked at each other. "No."

"Have you been talking to him?" Gordon asked.

Jeff nodded.

"And he didn't tell you?"

Jeff shook his head.

"He's probably overdosed on the oxyhydnite," Gordon suggested. "He'll come round."

Despite the problems that this option could lead to, Jeff seemed to look hopeful. "Do you think it's something medical?"

"No," Gordon admitted. "Sorry, Dad."

"Would… would you like me to go back to Thunderbird Five for a few days?" Alan offered. "Then, um," he wavered, "ah, John could come back here and… act… you know… as a counterpoint…"

"…To Scott," Jeff finished. Then he sat back with a sigh. "Thank you for the offer, Alan, but this is my problem, not yours… What can I do for you boys?"

"Uh…" Finally finding himself under his father's interrogative gaze, Gordon hesitated as he had second thoughts over his initial plan. "Nothing." Alan relaxed. "We were just wondering why you and Cubby weren't together."

"She's twisted her ankle; nothing serious. She's going to rest this afternoon and your Grandmother's helping her get changed."

"And kicked you out?" Gordon guessed, and grinned.

Jeff reddened. "What have you boys been up to?" He said, trying to appear nonchalant. "This week's supposed to be a break for everyone."

"We've been doing some general maintenance," Gordon admitted. "Nothing too taxing. In fact the five of us were just in the maintenance bay, you know, shooting the breeze rather than working. I made up a story to try to cheer up Scott and it seemed to work."

"I'm afraid that I've gone and undone all your good work, Gordon."

"Oh." Gordon appeared to be unconcerned. "Oh, well. I suppose we couldn't expect it to last for ever. You should have heard him yell the other day." He laughed, and his laugh sounded false even to his ears. "Someone made a stupid comment that maybe you and Cubby had been more than good friends…"

Alan made a strangled sound.

"…when Ma was still alive."

Jeff's jaw dropped. "What…?"

"Scott went ballistic at the idea, isn't that right, Alan?"

Alan just wanted to crawl away and hide.

"We…ah… We all know the, um, whole idea's laughable… of course…" Gordon watched his father's expression change.

"Who said that?!" For the merest fraction of a second, Jeff glanced towards Alan.

"Doesn't matter…" Gordon faltered. "It was just a throwaway line… you know…? Dad…?"

"No!" Jeff shook his head as he was trying to clear the image conjured up. "I wouldn't!" He began gabbling. "I couldn't! Not to Lucille! Not to your mother! I loved her…! I wouldn't… I couldn't!" he repeated, and buried his head in his hands. "She was my whole world… I could never have betrayed her…" There was a shuddering sigh. "Why aren't I allowed to be happy?"

Gordon and Alan looked at each other. They been prepared for raging anger, something they'd had plenty of experience dealing with over the years. But self-pity was unheard of. They were in unknown, and unexpected, territory.

"Dad…" Gordon hesitated and then sat forward in his seat. "I'm sorry… We were curious… You know?"

Jeff clenched his hands into fists in front of his face, trying to get a grip on his emotions, before he looked up. "I understand."

Gordon looked into his father's reddened eyes and felt sorrow for the man before him. "Why does what we think matter so much? You've never tried to stop us from doing anything. You've given us full rein over our lives; let us be our own men… The only time you've tried to stop us was when you thought we were about to do something dangerous…" He remembered International Rescue. "Fatally dangerous," he amended, "or stupid."

"I think you've just answered your own question, Gordon," Alan said quietly.

"Oh…" Gordon thought for a moment. "I'm sorry, Dad. But Alan and I can't remember the time when Ma was alive that clearly."

For the first time Jeff looked at length at Alan, who shifted under his father's gaze, and his sorrow became even more marked. "No. You can't, can you?"

Alan squirmed. "Sorry," he whispered.

Jeff lowered his hands so his arms were resting on the desk and looked Gordon in the eye. "I've been faithful to your mother since the day I met her. I've never had, nor did I ever contemplate having, an affair." He stood and walked over to the window. The tide was coming in and the water, combined with the shifting sands, and nearly obliterated the valentine.

"Right!" Gordon said with forced cheerfulness. "That's that then," he added as if his father had just confirmed that water was wet. He slapped himself on the legs and stood. "Come on, Alan." He strode over to the door.

Alan was watching the forlorn figure standing by the window. "Dad…" he stood and crossed over to his father. "You should be happy… And I like Cubby and I think she should be happy too. There's no reason why you shouldn't be happy together." And, in a gesture that surprised everyone, including himself, he wrapped Jeff up in a big bear hug.

Gordon looked longingly at the door and then back into the room before coming to a decision. "Alan's right," he said, moving over to the two men by the window. "Six eligible bachelors on a tropical island? You'd expect at least one of us to be getting some action on the female front; and if we leave it to him," he indicated Alan, "we'll be waiting for ever." He put his arm about Jeff's shoulders and gave them a friendly squeeze. "What are you doing in here when you've got a lady waiting for you?"

Jeff managed a wan smile. "So you don't mind…? About me and Cubby?"

"No," Gordon gave the broad shoulders a squeeze again as Alan treated his father to a reassuring smile. "I think it's great."

"Thank you…" Jeff said. "This means a lot to me."

"We'll leave you to it then," Gordon said. "Go and have fun with Cubby and don't worry about Scott… Catch you later, Dad."

Jeff waited until his sons had left the room; then he returned to his chair and once again picked up the notebook. Flipping over the top page he exposed an unblemished sheet. He wrote 'John' in the top left corner and 'Scott' in the bottom right. Then Alan's and Gordon's names went in a column beneath John's. His hand wavered briefly over the paper before he dropped the pen, picked up a pencil, and scrawled Virgil's name in the centre of the page. Dropping the pencil he held the notebook in both hands and stared at what he'd written.

"Three for, one against and one undecided," he said out loud. "Ah, to heck with it…" He threw the notebook on the desk and stood. "If this was a board decision it would constitute a vote in my favour… and I intend to act on it!"

Jeff Tracy strode out of his study…

To be continued.