Hey guys!

It's Wednesday and I'm here, as promise. It's a bloomin' miracle! Well actually, the real miracle is that you guys have managed to be patient waiting for this chapter. Only one or two prods in the back this time, well done everyone! Lol.

Enjoy. :)


Alan felt his sneakers slip on a patch of seaweed, and he waved his arms about in an attempt to regain his balance, his heart lurching within him for one awful moment as he fought against gravity. Fermat ducked so as to avoid being knocked out by his friend's wild flailing.

"Do you mind?" the younger teenager asked mildly. "Or d-d-do you really hate me so much that you want to kill me?"

Alan, who had managed to steady himself, grinned down at his best friend. "Nah, you're okay I guess."

"Thanks," Fermat drawled. "Now I f-feel really appreciated."

Alan sniffed a grin and jumped onto an adjoining rock that looked less dangerous, glancing at his surroundings and shielding his eyes against the bright glow of the late afternoon sun. The waves crashed gently against the sandy shore, and echoed in the hollow rock of the small cave further down the beach. The cool breeze wafted gently around him, rippling through his light shirt and cooling his skin, carrying with it the damp, salty fragrance of the warm ocean. He inhaled deeply, smiling. He loved being home.

"Alan, Fermat, c'mon!" a familiar voice called.

Alan grinned and punched Fermat's arm lightly, a wordless message they were both accustomed to, and raced his friend across the shoreline. Tin-Tin laughed at their antics and shook her head. He smiled at the way her dark hair blew around her face, her eyes sparkling with laughter and excitement. Alan came to crouch down beside her, their knees almost touching as she shuffled forwards and pointed into the shallows of the rock pool.

"See?"

Alan bent closer, following her line of sight, and spotted what had caught her interest. "What the heck is it?" he asked, cocking his head to the side so that he could survey the creature at a better angle.

Tin-Tin sent him a look of female long-suffering. "It's a starfish. Can't you tell?"

"That's a starfish?" Alan repeated. "Are you sure? It sure doesn't look like a starfish. And it's huge! What does that thing eat, sharks or something?"

Tin-Tin rolled her eyes at his dramatics. "Not all starfish are the same, Alan. Some, like this one, have nine arms and can reach up to three feet in length."

"It's gotta be the size of a service hatch!" Alan continued, reaching out a finger to poke at it carefully. "Where'd it come from?"

"The ocean," Fermat interjected, having just arrived at Alan's side and spotted the whitish-grey sea creature in the water. "Or outer space. D-don't ask me which."

Alan elbowed him lightly. "Dude, I'm serious. What if nobody's seen this species before? Gordon used to photograph and catalogue every little aspect of marine-life around the island. I doubt he would've missed a specimen this big. D'you think it's newly adapted to this area or something?"

Tin-Tin shrugged. "Could be. Why don't you snap a picture of it and ask him later."

"Good idea." Alan slipped his hand into his pocket and tugged out his cell phone.

"Guys, we'd better g-g- we should probably head back," Fermat stated, looking down at his watch. "It's n-n- almost time for dinner."

"Yeah, I guess." Alan murmured, glancing between the starfish in the rock pool and the smaller image on his phone. "Hey guys, d'you think it'll still be here later this evening?"

"Should be." Tin-Tin said, standing up and brushing the dirt off her shorts. "It won't move until the tide has come in far enough to pull it back out to sea. Unless a predator comes along and eats it, but that's unlikely. See those little spines? They're as tough as the shell of a crustacean; the only way to kill it is by attacking its underside."

Satisfied that he would have another chance to study the freaky-looking creature in more detail – and drag Gordon along if his brother hadn't seen it before - Alan followed after the other two teenagers as they began to walk back over the rocks towards the sandy area of the beach.

"You know, I think you might be right about it being a new species to the island," she mused, glancing back towards the rock pool as she hopped from one dry patch to another. "Virgil spotted a peculiar-looking bird just the other day, he thinks it might be-"

She cried out in surprise as her foot suddenly slipped from underneath her, the rubbery soles of her sneakers squeaking on the wet surface of the rock. Her right foot took all the weight, and the sudden transition threw her off balance. She toppled sideways, landing sprawled on her side with right leg underneath her.

"Tin-Tin!" Alan exclaimed, skidding on seaweed as he sprinted over to where she had fallen. Dropping to his knees beside her, he tried to help her into a sitting position.

"Alan, I'm fine." she protested, her voice tight and pain-filled as she pushed his hands away. "I can get up on my own."

She proceeded to attempt to do so. 'Attempt' being the operative word. As she moved to stand to her feet, her ankle suddenly gave way and she fell back down again with a cry of pain. Clutching the affected joint with both her hands, she brought her knee up to her chest and took in a shaky breath.

"Tin?" Alan ventured softly, shooting Fermat a worried glance as the younger boy dropped down beside them.

"I'm...I'm okay," came the soft response from behind Tin-Tin's knee. "I just landed funny. I'll be fine in a minute."

"Let me see." Alan gently pushed Tin-Tin's hands away from the ankle and carefully straightened out her leg, leaning the heel of the foot on his bent knee. "Is it just your ankle that hurts?"

Tin-Tin nodded, blinking back the tears of pain that had sprung to her eyes. Alan resisted the urge to brush one away as it fell down her cheek. Swiping a hand across her face, the Malaysian girl tried to withdraw her leg.

"Alan, it's nothing. Really."

"Just let me look," the blond pressed, carefully easing Tin-Tin's shoe off and supporting the weight of her leg of his knee. Having suffered from many sprains and strains himself running track (and from being generally accident-prone), Alan knew quite a lot about these sort of injuries. He knew that strains, although very painful at the time, were nothing that an icepack and a day or so of rest wouldn't fix. Sprains, on the other hand, were a little more of a problem. They could keep you off your feet for days, sometimes even weeks, depending on the severity of the damage done. And of course, there was always the possibility that Tin-Tin might have fractured one of the bones in her ankle. Alan prayed that this would not be the case.

"Well," he said finally, his fingers gently probing the pressure points on her ankle, "it's gonna swell up like a watermelon if we don't get it under ice, but I don't think it's broken. Virge'll probably want to do an x-ray, just in case."

Tin-Tin sighed and nodded, trying to get to her feet again. "I guess we'd better get back, then."

Alan hastily stood, before bending down and helping her to gain her feet. Putting one of Tin-Tin's arms around his shoulders, he slipped one of his own around her waist so that he could help to support the weight.

"Lean on me, Tin. I gotcha."

Tin-Tin looked up at him, and their eyes met briefly. Two spots of pink appeared on her olive-brown cheeks, and she quickly looked away. Feeling his heartbeat increasing, Alan cleared his throat nervously and looked down to hide his own blush.

"Right," he mumbled. "Off we go."

As Alan helped Tin-Tin to hobble back down the beach, he didn't miss the smirk that Fermat sent his way. Knowing that he was in for a colossal teasing session later on, Alan sighed and shook his head.

Well, you win some, you lose some. And, from my point of view, I think I won this time. After all, I have Tin-Tin's arm around my shoulder. Aw heck, Alan, stop it! There's nothing going on between us. She's just a really, really close friend. Yeah, that's all she is. Okay, maybe I think that she's kinda cute, but still, who wouldn't? With a laugh like that, and that little smile of hers, and the way her eyes sparkle when she's surprised...

No! No, she's my friend. Just my friend. Nothing more.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

"Die, you green-blooded alien freak! Die!"

Alan paused on his way down the corridor and raised an eyebrow as his older brother's war-cry emanated from the open doorway up ahead. Smiling, he crept up to the games room, poking his head around the door and biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at the sight that greeted him. Gordon and Fermat both sat on the floor in front of the main couch, their eyes glued to the giant screen on the far wall as they pointed their electronic control-guns at the images on the screen.

"Look out!" Fermat hissed, wincing in expectation as a large green alien jumped out of the doorway beside Gordon's character. Before the red-head had a chance to react, the creature had raised one of its tentacled hands and skewered Gordon's soldier through the chest.

"Aw crap," Gordon groaned, sighing loudly as the screen announced his death. "Not again."

"Relax." Fermat grinned. "You've still got those bonus points left over from the last round. You can be k-k-destroyed as many times as you like, and you'll still end up beating me."

At that, Gordon seemed to brighten up a little, pressing the button to reload his gun as his new character appeared in the screen. "You know what, Fermat? You're right. I am gonna win this round. Prepare to be annihilated!"

"I'd be careful, Gordo," Alan warned, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms. "You're good, but you're not that good."

Gordon glanced up from the screen long enough to shoot Alan a glare. "Hey, watch it," he warned. "You only got your pin back a couple of days ago. Virgil would hate to have to take it back off you again so soon."

Alan straightened up, playfully defensive. "And why would he need to do that?"

"Because," Gordon replied, flashing Alan one of his cheeky grins, "if you don't start respecting your elders, I'm gonna have to teach you some manners. And there's no way that Dad will let you back on the team when he sees what's left of you."

"Alright, pea-brain," Alan beckoned him closer, spreading his arms, "bring it on,"

Gordon shook his head, his eyes still fixed on the computerised character before him. "Can't. I've gotta beat Fermat first. Maybe later, kid. Now hush up, I'm tryin' to concentrate."

"Concentrate on what?" Fermat asked. "On losing? F-f-go right ahead."

"Oooh, you'll pay for that, squirt," Gordon drawled. "I'll get my revenge. Just you watch me."

At that precise moment, another alien creature dropped down from a platform above Gordon's character and screamed shrilly, sending a rippling blue light through the soldier's body. Gordon let out a cry of frustrated disbelief as the screen announced yet another death.

"Well," Fermat smiled brightly, "I did watch you. Nice job, Gordon. You're really g-g-getting the hang of this 'revenge' stuff."

Gordon shot the younger boy a glare, and Fermat just grinned in response, pushing his glasses further up his nose and firing once more at the screen, successfully transforming the alien into a large pile of green goo as it semi-exploded in front of him.

Alan smiled as he pushed himself away from the doorframe and stepped into the room, manoeuvring himself around the many beanbags and armchairs until he was standing behind the couch. It was then that he noticed the figure who was propped up against the cushions, her legs stretched out and resting on a stool in front of the couch, one ankle covered in a towel-wrapped frozen gel pack.

"Hey, Tin," Alan greeted. "Aren't you getting tired of watching these two squabble like an old married couple?"

The young Malaysian girl turned to look up at him and shrugged, brushing a stray lock of hair from her eyes. "Well, I figured it was better than being fussed over by the others. It's very sweet and all, but it was all getting a little too much."

"How's the ankle, anyway?" Alan asked, climbing over the back of the couch and sitting down beside her, perhaps a little closer than he had initially intended.

However, Tin-Tin didn't seem to find this level of contact uncomfortable. And, Alan mused, he didn't mind it so much either.

"Still the same as it was when you asked me at dinner," she replied teasingly. Then she sighed and glanced towards the affected joint. "Nothing's broken, the x-ray confirmed that. It's just a bad sprain. Virgil says I have to stay off it for a day or two, if I can."

Suddenly, she yawned widely, covering her mouth with a hand.

Alan smiled gently. "You tired?".

"No," Tin-Tin murmured sleepily. "I was just yawning for the fun of it."

Alan grinned, rolling his eyes even as the Malaysian girl ran a hand through her hair wearily. "I think I'm gonna go to bed, actually."

Fermat, who had been trying to pretend that he wasn't actually listening to their conversation, spoke up at that.

"But Tin-Tin, i-it's only eight-thirty." He glanced over his shoulder to frown at her questioningly. "Oh, w-well actually," he stuttered upon seeing her weary complexion."On s-second thoughts, go to bed. You don't look so hot."

"And the subtlety prize goes to young Master Fermat Hackenbacker!" Gordon cried grandly. Shaking his head slowly, he rolled his eyes at the younger boy and sighed. "Kid, there are certain things that us guys do not say to women. That was one of them."

"Says you," Tin-Tin mumbled through her fingers as she rubbed her face. "Don't you remember that one time when you insulted Lady P in front of your father?"

Gordon blushed slightly, before firing his gun and pointlessly blowing up a barrel of oil on the screen in front of him. "I was younger then. Less experienced."

"It was only two years ago," Alan interjected, recalling the occasion with a smile. "And besides, the insult was the lesser half of it. You accidentally pushed her into the pool, remember? And she was fully-clothed."

"Well, I wasn't about to push her in butt-naked, was I?" Gordon countered lightly, waggling his eyebrows over the barrel of his gun.

"You what?"

Alan's head shot up towards the door, where Scott was standing frozen to the spot, staring at Gordon incredulously. The copper-haired Tracy grinned.

"Hey, Scott. Wanna play?"

"Gordon," Scott began coolly, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the doorframe, unknowingly mirroring the exact same position that Alan had adopted only a few minutes earlier. "What's all this I hear about you and butt-naked women?"

Fermat and Alan, who had been having a very hard time trying not to laugh, gave up at this point. Scott raised an eyebrow at them as they sagged in their respective seats, clutching at their midriffs, Fermat unknowingly shooting members of his own team instead of the aliens as he tried and failed to continue playing the game through his hysterics.

"Don't fret, Scotty," Alan assured him, once he had regained control of his breathing patterns. "Gordon was just making another lame joke."

"Hey!" Gordon protested, turning around and frowning at his younger brother. "My jokes are not lame!"

"Nooo."

Gordon huffed moodily and turned back towards the screen, venting out his frustration upon the aliens. However, he let his gun fall onto his lap as he stared at the screen in open-mouthed shock.

"Sco-ott!" he whined, pointing at the far right-hand corner of the screen, where his bar of life-points showed a decrease of seven units. "You made me lose!"

Fermat laughed nervously. "A-actually, that was me. Sorry. Guess I got a little bit c-carried away, huh?"

"A little?" Gordon exclaimed. "Fermat, you wasted seven of my men! You little cheat! This means war."

And without further comment, Gordon pointed his control-gun towards the far side of the screen, where Fermat's character was standing, and fired. Fermat let out a cry of protest, pushing Gordon's gun with one hand as he raised his own weapon towards the screen and pulled the trigger - the gun aimed directly at Gordon's team captain.

"Ha! Take that!"

Lowering the weapon, he turned towards Gordon and crossed his arms over his chest, smirking at the copper-haired Tracy victoriously. Alan and Scott both burst out laughing as the aquanaut's mouth fell open. Then Gordon's lips twitched slightly, and an evil smile spread over his face.

"So that's the way you wanna play it, huh?" he inquired in a dangerously low voice. "Alright then, buster. You asked for it."

"Asked for what?" Fermat inquired casually, smiling upon seeing the playful glint in the older man's eye.

Gordon carefully set down his gun on the floor in front of him, before cracking his knuckles and rubbing his hands together as if in preparation for a fight. Fermat also discarded his plastic weapon, knowing that it would only cause more harm than good, and readied himself for the inevitable attack. Scott and Alan watched the scene with barely suppressed amusement on their faces, having decided (for their own safety) that intervening was not a wise course of action.

Suddenly, Gordon lunged forward, grabbing Fermat in a headlock and rubbing his knuckles into the boy's scalp. Fermat laughed as he tried to fight him off - but to no avail. In desperation, he managed to twist his head around far enough so that his eyes met with Alan's.

"Dude, condition r-red!" he gasped, kicking desperately. "I repeat, condition red! Dive, dive, dive!"

With a nod, Alan catapulted himself from the couch and onto Gordon's back, successfully extracting his older brother from around his friend's neck. Using his body weight to pin the taller Tracy beneath him, he grinned down into the copper-top's surprised face.

"Mission accomplished."

The aquanaut raised an eyebrow. "Well, that was...weird." He pushed his hands against his brother's shoulders, trying to dislodge Alan from on top of him. When the boy did not budge, he reached around and jabbed him in the side. "Okay, you win. Now get off me."

"Actually," Alan smiled, leaning his elbow painfully on Gordon's chest and sighing in an exaggerated fashion, "I'm kinda comfy where I am. Just ignore me, I'll keep quiet. You won't even know I'm here."

Despite Gordon's annoyance at his little brother's persistence, he couldn't help but crack a smile. "It's kinda tough to ignore you, munchkin. You ain't exactly a feather pillow. Now shift. Move. Budge! I mean it, Alan!"

"Hmm-? Uh, what?" Alan inquired, as though he hadn't heard anything that Gordon had just said. "Oh, sorry Gords. Kinda nodded off there. You see, there was this monotonous droning in my ear that sounded distinctly like you, and for some unknown reason it just bored me to death."

Gordon growled in his throat, grabbing Alan shoulders and rolling forcefully onto his side, pulling Alan along with him. Within a split second, Gordon had Alan pinned beneath him.

"Shouldn't have done that, kid."

Alan twisted around so that he could glance up at his eldest brother, who had been leaning against the side of the couch and silently watching the younger Tracy sons grapple with each other, wearing an expression of fond amusement.

"Scotty, Gordon's bullying me," Alan whined, his tone childish and pathetic, putting on an exaggerated pout. "And you're just gonna stand there and let it happen?"

Scott sniffed a grin. "Maybe."

"But Scott-ee!"

The eldest brother sighed, stepping forward and frowning at Gordon in mock-anger. "Honestly, Gordon, you should know better! Hurting your little brother like that - it's disgraceful!"

"Hey! He was the one who had me pinned a few moments ago!" Gordon complained, poking Alan in the chest to emphasise his point - which resulted in the teenager letting out a high-pitched squeak of protest. "I didn't see you coming to my rescue!"

Scott shrugged. "You never asked for my help," he replied evenly, nudging Gordon with the toe of his sandal. "Now, let the kid go before you suffocate him. You don't want me to start counting, do you?"

Gordon frowned and shook his head. "This is hair-colour discrimination," he grumbled. "It's because I'm red, isn't it?"

Scott rolled his eyes, reaching down and wrapping his arms around Gordon's waist, pulling backwards and successfully hauling the teenager off of Alan's chest. Smiling and patting Gordon on the cheek as he would have done a small child, he said,

"You know that we all love you very, very much, even if we mistake you for a tomato sometimes."

"Great," Gordon remarked sarcastically, swatting Scott's hand away and glancing over his shoulder towards the screen. He sighed loudly in resignation. "Well, it looks like you've won again, Fermat. That makes it five-three, right?"

Fermat shook his head, running a hand through his spiky brown hair. "Six-three."

"What?" Gordon protested, turning to face the younger teenager. "It is totally not six-three! I'd never let you beat me like that. Nope, definitely five-three."

"Six-three." Fermat repeated, standing up and brushing off his pants, before moving towards the window balcony doors and sliding one of them back so that the cool evening air wafted into the room. Gordon plopped down onto the couch beside Tin-Tin and put his head in his hands.

"I'm a failure."

Alan grinned, patting Gordon on the back in mock-comfort. "Cheer up, Gordo. It was inevitable that Fermat would own you. He's already beaten the rest of us hands-down. I mean c'mon, he beat Scott eleven-two last week."

Scott huffed, mumbling something about a technical glitch in one of the controllers, and Fermat grinned at him.

Suddenly, there were identical buzzing sounds emerging from five different sources within the room. Glancing down at their watches, which were flashing intermittently between different colours, they all immediately fell silent.

"A rescue?" Alan asked breathlessly, his heart rate picking up in anticipation.

Scott nodded, already on his way to the door with Gordon. Jumping to his feet, Alan made to follow his brothers, but stopped halfway and turned back towards his friends.

"I'll s-stay with Tin-Tin," Fermat assured him. "You go. You've earned this one. But just p-p-promise that you'll stay outta trouble, okay?"

Grinning, Alan returned to Fermat's side and the two boys touched fists. "F.A.B." This was it. This was finally it. He was at last going on another rescue mission with his older brothers at last. It was what he had been looking forward to ever since he had first fallen ill at the beginning of the summer break. His chance had finally come to take up his wings again.

And boy was he gonna fly.


Who is it that needs rescuing? Find out next time!

Reviews, s'il vous plait? Pour moi?

xox