AN – Apologies yet again, another slow update, time has not been on my side, so when I did find myself at home I gave up completely on writing in favour of hibernation under fleece blanket! I will try to keep it going with more regular posts in future. Creative Girl29, Math Girl and Teobi thank you for your reviews, they really do help push it along when I think I will struggle to kick start this one again. To all reading this thanks for sticking with me, hope you enjoy the chapter.

Ch25

Alan felt weight shift beside him, a flicker of his eyes registered the form of his brother settling into the bed next to him before he shut them tight again. The brief entrance of light and the slight movement caused him to groan, the swell of liquid within his belly rising, threatening a spill if he so much as moved his head an inch. So he didn't move, stock-still he relaxed his eyelids and tried to reclaim blackness. In the hangover manual according to Scott sleep was the ultimate remedy, but unlike last time it frustratingly refused to comply as another wave of nausea hit him broadside. As the spell passed and he was confident he wouldn't need to make a dash out of the covers, the night before started to return with alarming lucidity. Shit, why had he tried to keep up with her drink for drink? Oh god, the thought of what Connie may now think of him made him want to hide from the world. He had walked her home, or staggered if he was honest, while making embarrassing statements about her being the love of his life. He raised the covers over his face to hide from the world, Huh what life? She, it turned out, was twenty, had worked and lived with her older brother for two years, moving from Seattle to Galvaston to break free from her parents only to feel stifled by a sibling. And he had done nothing he could actually tell her about, so the sum total of his life-experience, admitted to in-between some more interesting developments, had been home schooled… likes gaming. Shit! The covers left his face as the lack of cool air became more of a need than trying to hide from his worst memories. Not long after the life story of Alan Tracy in one sentence he had seen fit to declare his undying devotion. He groaned out loud, she must have woken this morning thinking she'd had a lucky escape from the teen-stalker from hell.

The bright light behind the veils penetrated through his lids bathing them in yellow while he still held out hope for black. Combined with his brain refusing to shut down and he knew he was flogging a dead horse. He opened his eyes briefly, a tentative half-hearted attempt which failed as the light bored into his eyes like lasers ending in a searing pain in the centre of his head. His stomach again got in on the act, for all its recent demands for it to fully empty its contents, it now reminded him with a grumble and accompanying hunger pangs that it had not consumed nearly enough to soak up the indulgence of the night before. Taking a deep breath, he braved one eye, keeping the other shut in the hope that bargaining for the middle ground, somewhere between waking and sleeping would be enough to win the battle. The clock confirmed that he was on his way to having missed three meals. Probably explained a lot, not eating the night before had helped the first couple of drinks fill him with fake bravado, which soon wore off as he stood and stumbled his way to bringing the night to a close. He now had visions of a twenty year old watching him retreat from her door with awkward apologies as he declined her invite to breakfast. On reflection it was more than likely just that, rather than the 'at the time' imagined embarrassment of that admission to her. His fear and naivety had had him jumping streets ahead into her bed, her kisses, still fresh on his lips, and newly awakened body took over his senses. Although, admittedly, not enough for him not to run from an imagined disastrous and embarrassing first. The arm of his brother reaching over him and pulling him close with an accompanying gentle snore broke his gut-somersaulting reminisces of the night before.

If nothing else Gordon was reminding him he had to place a line under it and try his best to claim day two of the vacation for him, all had to do was just raise his head from his pillow and the hard part was done. His body complied enough for him to swing his legs into the cool environment of the room and although the protestations from belly and head still grumbled away in the background he made it to his feet and the bathroom without incident. First port of call, the drug store equivalent of Scott's four-point hangover cure, two Advil and tumbler of water, then revert to the eldest Tracy's plan and hit the shower. He stepped onto the cold basin into rather unenthusiastic jets of water that trickled their best efforts down his back. Gordon sure knew how to pick a doozey of a hotel, in the cold light of day and with cold offering from the showerhead his misery looked set for the day. Still it was a drop in the ocean to his misdemeanours, promises made to give Gordon the vacation of his dreams dropped like a hot potato at the first sight of the auburn haired damsel in distress. He had a lot of ground to make up to him and he'd start by paying him back for a night of lost sleep by going on the hunt for a food cure that did not involve anything flavoured with ginger or anything jettisoned from a chicken's nether regions. He turned off the disappointing wake-up call and grabbed a towel off the rail, trying in vain to dry his body with a towel designed for hands before picking up a pair of boxers and T-shirt off the top of his bag and placing them over damp skin.

"Hey squirt. You're up… You feel ok?"

Alan turned his head in the direction of the voice while fighting for birth through the neck of his red T, on release he smiled at his brother who was now raised up on one arm grinning at him through bleary eyes.

"Be better when I've had breakfast, you want me to bring something back or did you want to get on the road?" Alan reluctantly offered. The road was not what he needed right now, but on day two of Gordon's part of the vacation he could hardly call a hotel day, especially in this shit-hole.

"No rush. You look like shit. You're ready to face the world then? Gordon appraised him, "not sure you should be allowed anywhere near the wheel of the car until much later. We both could do with the walk to blow the cobwebs off, give me a minute."

Alan shrugged, the bed his brother had vacated looked like a vision of beauty, even with the brown polyester bedding set, but a return would be defeatist, especially now he had got this far into claiming what remained of the day. All he had to do was find his jeans and trainers from wherever the hell he had left them the night before.

"Was gonna get you breakfast in bed. You know, just to say thanks for last night."

"Al, I'm your brother not your valentine, give me five and we'll get some together." Gordon mumbled through his toothbrush.

While he waited Alan rummaged through the contents of his backpack before taking a look under the bed for his runners. A mission he regretted instantly when faced by at least ten years of debris and a head that demanded instantly to be re-orientated before it claimed an alliance with his stomach and made him pay for his early afternoon gymnastics.

"Shit its freezing Al. You used all the hot water!" Gordon grumbled from the bathroom.

Gordon managed waking to ready to go in a little over the five minutes he had allotted himself for the task, aided no doubt by a shower of ice, but impressive to Alan none the less. Especially as a large portion of his brothers few hours sleep had been taken in the chair. More guilt, Alan tried to rack his brains for the perfect way to make it up to him, but any time spent thinking was just too darned hard. Much easier to be led through the day by his brother and just agree to anything, well almost anything. And an afternoon at the beach was surely even within his considerably dulled capabilities.

His now dressed brother threw his shoes and shades at him bringing him from his thoughts. "Come on then Al, what you waiting for?" Gordon instructed from the door. Alan sighed, everything on double time and now his head had started to spin.

...

After a plateful of well cooked protein and accompanying carbs washed down with the sugary hit of a full fat coke Alan started to return to himself. Albeit tired, his legs like leaden weights but he could find a little in reserve to make his brothers second day at the beach not the complete wash-out it had first looked.

"So Gord, what you think, surf or swim?"

"How about shopping?" Gordon offered putting a couple of bills on the table.

"Shopping!" Alan returned, of all the likely entertainments to be proffered, by the brother now sporting a suspicious smile, that was not in the top one hundred let alone top of the list.

An arm rounded his shoulder "Well, we both may need to find something a little more suitable for this evening."

"Why?" Alan responded not quite sure why he now had the niggling feeling that within the next few minutes he was going to want to kill him.

"We have dates." Gordon stated with a shrug, delivering it with the assumption that his brother had a clue about what the hell he was talking about. "Have you checked your texts?" He added.

Alan looked through the last messages sent… dinner 7, shit Gordon! Although as his fingers trawled the thread the initial text that warranted his brother's interference 'had a great time C x' brought a smile. He checked his watch, he had four hours to come up with a grown up venue, find something to wear and cross his fingers that he could handle the second date with more confidence and less to drink than the first.

Shopping with Gordon proved an entertainment in itself, it didn't take much to work out he was headed to a certain blonde in Houston as he fingered through ready-to-wear suits on the rail muttering about looking like a PA rather than St Regis material. Whereas he had fulfilled his list in an hour, admittedly an easier remit covered by the purchase of a pair of smart designer jeans, new trainers and loose navy blue formal shirt, but still he had the job done. He was now standing sentry at the changing room to give a nod or shake of the head each time his brother sported a new offering. The trouble was he had made the mistake of laughing, Gordon smelling an audience had given up the task in hand to come out in more and more unlikely outfits, the sarong and tank top combo his all time favourite. So far, in just over an hour, Gordon had only managed to secure underwear, which was just asking for a smart-ass comment but he refrained with one eye on the ever ticking clock.

"Did she tell you what the dress code was?" Alan inquired, trying to bring the task back on track.

"Just tone down the shirt," his brother replied looking over the top of the saloon style door.

"Why the insistence on a suit then?"

"It's got three Michellin stars Al, we have to be talking dinner here. Eight o'clock Al. What else is she inviting me to at eight?"

"Nothing at this rate, it's half five Gordon and so far you're turning up in either what you brought with you or a pair of silk boxers."

Gordon's head and naked torso rounded the door, his eyebrows dancing with amusement, "Here's hoping we get to the silk boxers." He shrugged his broad shoulders "Go on then, pick me something for her to unwrap."

Alan blushed glad to have a mission to retreat to, within five minutes he returned with black Italian leather slip on shoes, black pants and duck egg blue Gucci Duke Shirt. At quarter to six he wasted no time in announcing his presence just bowled on in there, threw the offering to his brother, instilling that time was running out and he was on his own if he was still in the shop past six.

"Take you shopping more often squirt." His brother called out from behind the changing room door after a good ten minutes in front of the mirror.

…..

Gordon dropped Alan at the restaurant and waved him off with a wink and his sagest advice "Don't do anything I wouldn't do" and he hit the accelerator imagining Penelope's face when he turned up behind the wheel of the goddess. Of course there was no-way on earth she'd wait for him on the outside of the hotel but a guy could dream. That one would be just one in a long list of scenarios where he would, with one look, sweep her off her feet. The reality was he would be a mess long before he got there. Stutter and stammer his way through the date like a red faced teen. Even with Galvaston still a blip on the horizon in his rear view mirror his nerves had the better of him. Before he had settled on his opening line he entered Houston and all rehearsals were forgotten. Then the date he had spent a large portion of the last year thinking about completely blindsided him, he drove into the large portico registering that she was stood there waiting, standing next to the concierge, immaculately dressed in belted fawn leather jacket, navy bootleg jeans and cowboy boots. Penelope shook the concierges hand and before Gordon had time to register he was not handing his keys to the valet she was in the car, a soft smile on her lips and a worryingly impish twinkle in her eyes.

"You toned the shirt down." She commented before leaning over and kissing his cheek "Houston Motorsport Park Gordon, Parker's waiting."

His heart sank, straight to the business end of the evening, still he didn't have to make it easy for her, "look I think I have the jist of Virgil's grand plan, split up Dastardly and Muttley. I agree to take on Muttley and Dastardly takes a ride with Peter Perfect. So, let's forget Parker for a while and go for something to eat."

Penelope laughed, almost a chuckle, "I think you will find that Muttley will be deciding if he will be taking you on, a 'try before you buy' so to speak. He quite fancied he'd make a good show of it with Kayo or Scott. Please don't take this the wrong way Gordon, although I have no doubt that he'd do anything I ask, he will consider you a liability."

Gordon gripped the wheel, placed his foot to the accelerator and allowed a small smile to curl on his lips as his passenger gripped the edge of her seat.

...

AN – Teobi … Your Dastardly and Muttley comment in you review had me in stitches, just had to nick it.