Disclaimer:The Thunderbirds do not belong to me. They are the property of Gerry Anderson and his affiliates. The original characters come from my imagination, and have appeared in some of my other works. I am pretty sure that my imagination belongs to me, unless it runs wild and becomes a law unto itself.
Chapter Seven
"Will you sit still?" Virgil demanded of Gordon, as the red head's legs kicked Virgil in the back, as Virgil lay across them.
"I'm sorry! I want to get out! I want to play in the sea like a seal!"
Virgil shot a cursory glance at John. John shook his head once again, wearily, feeling suffocated by having to look after the Tracy brood without Scott to help him.
"Sorry, Gordy, our supreme leader deems it impossible for me to help you."
John rolled his cornflower blue eyes. "I would rather you didn't end up in jail for a white collar crime, Virgil. I'm just looking out for you. I mean, you're a juvenile now, but about in the future? No, better not risk it."
The door opened to the room. John was shunted aside from where he was casually leaning against it.
"Hallelujah and praise the Lord!" Gordon raised his arms up in celebration. "Virgil, give him the pen! Dad, sit down and free me! I want to be out of here before lunch!"
Jeff uprooted Alan from the visitor's chair with the nudge of his toe. Alan slouched against the nearest wall.
"You okay?" John asked, recovering and sidling next to his oldest brother.
"I think so, yeah," Scott replied, hand clutching the box in his pocket.
"I need some air," John muttered quietly to Scott, who had wrapped his arm around Tash's shoulders. "Come with? I'll even shout the both of you coffee and cake, which doesn't come from the hospital cafeteria."
Scott nodded his head eagerly. If there was free food, there was no question about it; he was there.
"You're such a freeloader," Tash commented laughingly, knowing what he was thinking. "Mooching off your brothers all the time, yet being completely miserly to them when it's time to return the favour."
"Isn't that why you love me?"
"It's not your most redeeming quality," she snarked as the trio walked out of the room.
As the door closed with a soft click, Jeff looked up, distracted, only to find Virgil boring holes into him with honey-burnt eyes.
"Well? Did you reconcile with Scott?"
Placing the pen down, Jeff gave the question due consideration. "I'm not actually sure. It's not as bad as yesterday, but we're not quite where we need to be."
Virgil narrowed his eyes a fraction of a millimetre. "You need to fix this, Dad. You know you do, as you were in the wrong when you laid into him."
"I'm well aware of that, Virgil," Jeff moderated his tone so that it was authoritative, without being aggressive. "But, you need to understand that the issues raised between your brother and myself cannot be resolved in the space of one day. It will take time, so we all have to be patient with this until that time comes."
Virgil remained impassive. The answer wasn't to his satisfaction, but he knew that was the only answer he would get from his father. It would have to do for now.
The trio placed their order and slid into one of the few available booths at the restaurant they were in. John sat by his lonesome, while Scott and Tash sat opposite him.
"So," John drawled. "So…"
"So what?" Scott finished the sentence, drumming his fingers on the edge of the table.
"So how was it, really? You seemed a bit dazed when you came back."
Scott rubbed at his eyes. "It was… weird. It wasn't what I thought it would be." With a sideways glance at the auburn haired woman sitting next to him, Scott smiled softly. "It was more about what the future could hold for me."
"And that made your head spin? I mean, you didn't come back as collected and stable as you left," John pointed out, smiling his thanks as his cappuccino and carrot muffin were placed in front of him.
"I'm just tired, John," Scott yawned. "I was up all night. And the night before last, too."
"Wow. That's too much information. Y'know, there are limits to fraternal affection, and as much as I love you as a brother, Scott, I didn't need to know that." John squirmed, belatedly realising that he had been hanging around Gordon for too long. Gordon's ways of thinking and occasional crude comments were wearing off on him. "I don't know if I should be horrified or congratulating you for that feat."
Scott rolled his eyes. Thinking back on his words, he realised he deserved that jibe. He should have made his meaning clearer. Clearing his throat, he clarified the expression of his previous statement. "I was awake for the past two nights, John."
A pause.
"Dad… he told me the story of him and Mom," Scott sighed, slicing his chocolate and fruit flan slice in two and sharing it with Tash. "Right from how they met, to where their first house was, to how they got engaged."
"Spotted the similarities?" John smirked. Knowing his brother as well as he did, John knew that it was probable that Scott had not seen the parallels between the relationship shared between their mother and father, and the relationship Scott was cultivating with the woman sitting beside him.
"Not until it was pointed out to me," Scott admitted, rubbing at his neck with a sheepish grin. With a quick kiss to Tash, he added, "What can I say? I am my father's son, after all."
John interlocked his fingers, rested his chin on the raised ridges of his knuckles, observing the interactions that were traded between his eldest brother and his girlfriend. Scott pulled her closer to him, and she nestled her head between the joint of his neck and shoulder. When he thought no-one was staring at him, he pressed his lips quickly to her forehead, and she smiled up contentedly at him. And finally, John noted, when it came to deciding who got to eat the last mouthful of the flan, they engaged in the classic game of Rock-Paper-Scissor-Lizard-Spock. Clearly, their father couldn't have been blind to all of that, and John had a shrewd idea of what went down. He had to confirm it, subtly, though.
"Did he take you to Cocoa Beach?" John asked.
"Yep."
"Did he take you to the bank?" John pressed, knowing he was on the right track.
"Yep."
"And did he give you…"
"Yep," Scott interrupted his brother before he could give too much away.
"And are you…"
"When the time is right."
John smiled once again. "You should do it on your day trip to the Bahamas. It'll make you happy, and that's about as good as you'll get."
"Astute as ever, John," Scott commended, intent on drawing this line of discussion to a close. "But like I said, when the time is right."
From where her head was nestled in the crook of Scott's neck and shoulder, Tash glanced slowly from Scott to John, and back to Scott again. "And this is what I love about listening to conversations between the two of you," she remarked dryly. "You're so open and clear in what you're saying."
"We know," they chuckled simultaneously. Their veiled conversations drove many people nuts, especially when they couldn't decode it. The two Tracy boys preferred it that way; it was free entertainment as they watched eavesdroppers struggle to fathom out their hidden messages.
"Oh, and Scott, when you ask me the question John wants you to ask me, I can tell you that my answer will be the one you want to hear."
Scott pulled back, stunned, daring to dream. "Really?"
"Yes. But only when the time is right, for both of us."
"Told you," John grinned succinctly. "It'll make you both incredibly happy, deservedly so."
Now that his cappuccino was cold enough, John gulped it down and made to move onto devouring his muffin, as though he was a man that hadn't been fed in several months. Of course, to a Tracy teenaged boy, if he hadn't eaten in the past two hours, the feeling was the same. While John munched on his muffin, Scott downed his drink in a few swallows, pulling a face at the bitter, burnt aftertaste.
"Worst coffee I've ever had," he muttered, kicking John under the table. "Get a double shot espresso, you said, this place is known for them. The girl I met at breakfast yesterday recommended this place. Plus, you love strong coffees; it'll be like a perfect match. Thanks for nothing, Blondie."
"I said known for it; I never said they were good," John disclaimed. "Besides, it'll keep you awake for the rest of the day. And most of the night, too."
Shifting up to straighten her posture, Tash glared at the blond Tracy. "Are you telling me that I'll have to deal with coffee-high him tonight, when all I want to do is sleep? Thanks for nothing, John Tracy!"
Gulping at the ferocity of her glare, John asked for the check to serve as a distraction.
"Don't worry," Scott whispered in her ear. "Revenge will be sweet."
It took a few moments for John's brain to kick into gear, as he was frozen, staring at the total he had to pay for three cups of coffee and two slices of food.
"Scott!" he finally managed, sounding incredibly strangled. "Why would you order the two most expensive items on the menu, short of a meal? Why would you do that to me?"
Scott shrugged. The answer seemed obvious. "Because it comes out of your pocket, not mine, and I like getting free meals. Now, cough up, and let's go. Gordon should be discharged by now, and Dad'll probably be tearing his hair out at having to deal with three Tracys at once."
"I'm kissing my month's spending money goodbye," John complained, throwing the appropriate number of bills down to cover the cost. "You complete and utter ass."
Scott laughed as they headed to meet the rest of the Tracy bunch. "And don't I know it."
The first thing Gordon wanted to do once he had been released from the care of the hospital was to head to the open ocean, and dive head first into the clear, blue waters. Unfortunately, his father had deemed that it would over-exert him, and following the doctor's orders to a T, Jeff had poured cold water on that wish. Instead, Gordon had to settle for a family trip to The International Swimming Hall of Fame. It may not have been as exciting as feeling the water ripple through his hair, or having the opportunity to splash around gracefully like a baby dolphin, but Gordon had to admit that this came in a close second.
Nibbling on his lip, Gordon stared at the Hall of Fame listing for achievement in aquatic sports. "Hey, Dad," Gordon stated categorically. "I'm gonna get my name there, someday. Butterfly, probably. Maybe freestyle too. Not backstroke; I hate backstroke."
Jeff nodded in agreement. He had no doubts about that. Gordon, surprisingly, was incredibly persistent. The term 'giving up' wasn't in his vocabulary, and he didn't understand the meaning of it. Gordon would keep at a particular task, especially if he enjoyed it, until it was physically impossible for him to continue. Even then, he would take a short break and return to his task at a later time.
Alan couldn't quite stifle his laughter. "Yeah, right, Gordon. Dream on! Only the all-star heroes make it there."
Jeff shot his youngest son a quelling glare, and Virgil cuffed him upside the head.
"It's okay, Gordy, I know you'll get there. I believe you can do it, even if no one else does. Since when has a Tracy pulled out or given up?" Virgil flashed his eyes angrily at Alan. If looks could kill, Alan would have been lying on the floor, with a chalk outline around his body.
"Thank you, Virgil. It's nice to know someone has faith in me," Gordon replied pointedly.
"Hey, the three of us, we have faith in you too," John added, strolling in casually.
"Yeah, you'll get your name up there, Gordo," Scott agreed. "No question about it."
"Oh yeah?" Alan asked aggressively. "What makes you so sure that'll happen?"
"Because Gordon is like an Energizer bunny," Scott explained with a patient air, as though he was teaching Alan that 1+1=2. "He just keeps on going until he's dead."
Gordon turned away from the plaque to face his brother. "That's the sweetest thing you've ever said about me, Scott."
"I know. Now let's never talk about this moment ever again."
Meanwhile, Jeff had a few questions of his own to ask, as did John. Standing in a secluded corner, the duo conversed in hushed tones.
"How'd you three find us, John?"
"Virgil sent a message through to us. Dad, I know what you gave Scott today."
"He told you?" Jeff was astounded. He thought that the moment he had shared with Scott would remain between them. It appeared that he didn't know his eldest son as well as he thought he did.
John rolled his eyes and raked a hand through his hair. "Please, Dad, give my deductive reasoning skills some credit."
"Sorry, John," Jeff apologised.
"You did the right thing, Dad. It won't change what's been said, but it will speed up the recovery process. He knows how hard it was for you to relinquish Mom's ring to him."
With a tilt of his head, Jeff wondered how much his blond enigma of a son knew. "Did he mention if he would use it in the near future?"
"Only when the timing's right. As it should be," John pointed out. "I suggested using on their day trip to the Bahamas, since they're going in two days, but Scott reiterated that he would only be using it when the time was right."
"And when's that?" Jeff pressed. The thought that he was questioning the wrong son flitted through his mind briefly, but he didn't give it second consideration.
"When the timing is right for both of them," John repeated. "Look, Dad, don't push the matter with him. You'll know when they want you to know, as we all will."
Jeff glanced around. The rest of his troop was nowhere to be seen. He could only assume that they had moved on to another part of the complex. "Hey, John, why don't we find your brothers, huh?"
"Sounds like a plan, Dad."
A moment of silence as they walked along.
"Y'know, this is what our holiday should have been like," John commented mildly. "Just spending time with each other."
Jeff couldn't agree more, and he clapped John over the shoulder in affirmation. With his four-day business conference drawing to a close, he intended to maximise the amount of time he spent with his boys for what was left of their holiday, the way it should have been from the beginning.
