a/n Lookit! Lookit! Look who updated again quickly! Aren't I good? I wrote this in about an hour and a half. Currently, it's 2.40 in the morning. I'm tired. And going to bed.

And even better? I lied about updating time, yes, but for, like, the first time ever, I updated early.

Personally, I think I deserve a medal. Hehe. Read on!

Chapter 37 – Heart to Heart
Gordon Cooper Tracy was not normally a violent man. But even he had a breaking point.

And she, that vacuous harpy that she was, kept pushing him to his limits.

He swore that if he heard that bloody high pitched laugh of annoyingly demonic proportions, he would kill her. Eviscerate her himself...

...With a spoon.

The man sank lower in seat, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring heatedly at the doorway that the inane hoebag had occupied not ten minutes prior.

"Oh, Alan! You're so funny!" There was a giggle, and Gordon's look grew stormier.

Immediately, he leaped from his seat and made for the doorway, knuckles cracking.

To hell with the spoon, he'd just strangle the dim tramp.

Gordon was so caught up in planning exactly how he'd slaughter the asinine...ass that he didn't notice his girlfriend had tactfully grabbed his shoulders and turned him 180 degrees, so he headed out the other door.

Tin-tin rolled her eyes heavenward and let out a low sigh.

She honestly didn't understand how Alan could continue seeing the empty-headed bimbo, Kara.

'I mean,' she thought, sinking into the chair Gordon had, only moments before, been seated in, 'rebounding is one thing, but masochism is quite another...'

.1.1.1.1.1.

"You're the eldest, Scott! Order him to dump her!" the dark haired man frowned at his brother.

"Gordon, you know full well that I can't do that. Alan would just tell me, and I quote directly, to 'Go to hell'. If Alan's happy with Kara, why won't you just let him stay with her?"

Tin-tin watched her boyfriend, rather amused as he turned an unusual shade of puce.

An explosion was imminent.

Three...

Two...

One...

"WHY?! I'LL TELL YOU WHY! BECAUSE HE'S NOT HAPPY WITH KARA! SHE'S HIS REBOUND, SCOTT! HE'S TRYING TO GET OVER THE FACT HE'S COMPLETELY INFATUATED WITH SOMEONE ELSE!"

Scott dug a finger into his ear and winced.

"Okay, okay Gordo," he blinked, pressing a fingertip to his ear, "There's no need to shout. So Alan's not happy with Kara. We can't force him to see that and dump her, and I'm telling you that if I were to ban her from the island or something equally ridiculous, Alan would just keep seeing her to spite me,"

Gordon opened his mouth to retort, but closed it, as if considering this. The lips parted one more time, but again no words were uttered.

Finally, the redhead settled in giving his eldest brother a dark look.

"I hate you, Scott," the darker haired Tracy clutched his heart.

"I'm wounded, Gordo," he pressed the back of his hand to his forehead and swooned melodramatically, "Whatever shall I do?"

"Shut up," and Gordon stomped from the room.

.1.1.1.1.1.

"Hey John...?"

"What's up, Gordo?"

"Can you tell Alan to dump his girlfriend?"

"...Alan has a girlfriend?"

"... oh, nevermind,"

"No, Gordon wait! Don't hang up. ALAN has a member of the opposite sex after him? I always pegged Alan as more..."

"More what, John?"

"Well... Into... y'know... guys,"

"...Goodbye, John,"

.1.1.1.1.1.

"Come on, Virg! You're the voice of reason. Tell Alan to dump her,"

"Gordon, I hate her as much as you do, but I have the distinct feeling that any interference on our part will only drive them closer together, not further apart,"

Gordon raked his fingers through his hair.

"Virgil, there's gotta be something we can do... I mean, she's a gormless harlot!" Virgil laughed, turning the page in his book.

"Have you tried talking to Alan? You'd be surprised what it would achieve,"

"Well,gee Virgil. If I wanted a wussy response like that I would've called Dad,"

Virgil shot him a disarming grin.

"You're welcome, Gordon. Let me know how it works out," Gordon rolled his eyes and wandered off.

.1.1.1.1.1.

"Tara, darling," the blonde girl lay her head on the desk and covered it with her arms.

"I know that tone of voice, mother. And whatever it is, I'm not doing it!"

.1.1.1.1.1.

"...I cannot believe you conned me into doing this,"Tara glared heatedly at her mother. Penelope shot her a dazzling smile.

"I can, Tara dear. Now come along, there have been some lovely lads eyeing you since you came in," Tara's face turned stoic, and her hands curled to fists in the teal satin of her ball gown. Penelope tapped her daughter with her pink fan.

"Stop that, Tara. You'll wrinkle your dress," the Lady glided off onto the dance floor, where immediately the Duke of Kent greeted her with a gentlemanly kiss pressed to her hand.

Behind her, Tara mouthed her mother's last words mockingly and searched out the drinks table.

If she was going to be stuck at this bloody charity ball, she was most definitely going to make her mother regret forcing her to come along.

(She may have "grown up" since high school, but what could she say? Old habits die hard.)

As elegantly as she could manage, the young woman made her way across the ballroom, dodging couples and conversations, and hoping that her mother's statement of "lads eyeing her since her entrance" was false. Very false.

The moment she hit the alcohol table, she picked up a flute of champagne and took one sip and turned her head to the right.

Immediately, a young lord bowed to her and took her hand in the next waltz.

Oh. Fuck.

.1.1.1.1.1.

"Hey, Alan? Can I talk to you for a minute?" Gordon knocked lightly on Alan's open door, and he was immediately beckoned in by the youngest Tracy.

"What's up, Gordo?"

"I want to talk to you about your girlfriend," Alan arched an eyebrow.

"What about Kara?"

Gordon took a seat on Alan's bed and the youngest turned his desk chair to face his brother.

"Well, are you happy with her?"

There was a moment of silence as Alan processed this.

"Um, yes?"

"Really happy?"

"... why wouldn't I be?"

"Don't avoid the question. Alan, are you really, truly happy with your va—uh, del--," Gordon paused.

'Nope, can't lie like that,'

"Uh, with your girlfriend Kara?"

"I'm not avoiding the question. I've told you, I'm happy with Kara,"

"Truly?"

"Gordon..."

"C'mon Alan. Simple question. Truly happy?"

"Yes!"

"Really truly?"

"Look, Gordon. I don't know what you're hoping to achieve here but I've told you again and again that I'm happy with my girlfriend,"

"But are you?" the second youngest Tracy asked, leaning in towards his brother, "Are you really?"

"Yes!" Alan fumed, "I told you. I really like Tara," As soon as the words slipped past Alan's lips, he paled considerably.

Meanwhile, Gordon was grinning like the cat who got the canary.

"AHA!"

"Oh hell," the youngest buried his face in his hands, "Gordon, why?"

The redhead shrugged.

"Because someone had to do it, and I hate Kara the most. So why not me, eh?"

Alan shot his brother a dark look.

.1.1.1.1.1.

Tara sank into a chair at the side of the ballroom and rubbed her toes. That was the third bloody ponce who thought he could dance better than reality dictated.

She had better work on her icy glare to scare them off.

... and fast, because it looked like another was fast approaching.

"Hello my lady. May I trouble you for this dance?" Tara frowned.

"Must—"

"She'd love to," Penelope interjected, "Wouldn't you Tara, darling?" Tara stared incredulously at her mother.

"Where in high heck did you come from?!" Penelope responded with an enigmatic smile and pushed her daughter into the waiting Duke's arms.

He pulled her close and the two began to waltz, Tara making a point of looking over her dance partner's shoulder, gazing longingly at the open bar.

"I presume you are the lovely Lady Tara Creighton-Ward, then?" her partner spoke breathily in her ear, and the girl winced.

"You'd presume correctly," she jerked her head backwards, her blonde curls bouncing in their silver clip, "And you might be?"

He had the nerve to look apologetic.

"Forgive me, I was so enamored by your beauty, I forgot myself. I am Theodore Kennilworth, Duke of Royston,"

"How nice," Tara responded, glancing away once more.

"That gown brings out the colour of your eyes, Lady Tara. You look truly gorgeous tonight," the blonde rolled her eyes.

"Thanks, but no thanks," he raised an eyebrow.

"I don't think I follow you," Tara pulled from his arms.

"I'm spoken for," she turned, absentmindedly scratching her bared neck above the diamond choker her mother had given her. Her gaze found her mother's and Penelope gave her daughter a disapproving look. Tara responded in turn with an icy glare.

Penelope's was icier.

"Forgive me for monopolising your time, my Lady," Theodore gave her a curt bow and turned, but the manicured hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"I apologize," she spoke tightly, "It was rude of me. At least allow us to finish this dance,"

He gave her a smile and rested a hand on her waist, pulling her back to him, and lacing his fingers with hers.

The gesture was intimate and not lost on Tara.

She frowned at him.

"You'd best not be getting fresh with me, sir, because Duke or not, I'm not afraid to defend myself from an unwanted advance.

He laughed.

"I'll keep that in mind, my Lady,"

"See that you do,"

.1.1.1.1.1.

By the end of the night, Theodore had stolen five dances from Tara, and the blonde was not pleased.

Especially seeing she had tried to be catty and snide to him the whole night, but it hadn't seemed to deter him in the slightest.

Penelope was speaking with another aristocrat in a low voice while Tara pulled a silver shawl over her bare shoulders, and smoothed her hands down the flaring mid-shin length skirt of her teal gown, the white netting which made the skirt flare glimpsing from beneath it.

Tara sank into a seat while she waited for her mother, rubbing her feet tenderly. The metallic blue-green heels her mother had forced her into were not exactly the most comfortable things to wear.

She stretched her toes and calves as she sat, and looked out over the emptying ballroom.

Unfortunately, her glass(es) of champagne had been long cleared, and the young lady was left with nothing.

Nothing, that is, except the approaching Duke.

"I just thought I'd bid you farewell, my Lady,"

"Mmhmm," he flashed her a warm grin.

"Rest assured, Miss. Creighton-Ward, I will win you over yet," Tara fixed him with an incredulous expression.

"Oh, I highly, highly doubt that,"

.1.1.1.1.1.

Alan paced his room nervously.

"I think I need to break up with Kara,"

"Really?" Gordon leapt from his seat, "This is fantastic news! Let's celebrate! I'll go and find Dad's best celebratory booze!"

"Gordon..." the blond spoke warningly, "This isn't a good thing,"

"And why not? You'll be finally free of that damn brainless wench, and I'll be ecstatically happy. What's not good here?"

"Because...!" Alan dragged his fingers through his hair, "Because I started going out with Kara to get over the Tara incident. But... fuck it, Gordon! I'm not over it. If anything, it's worse now!"

"So break up with Kara and do something about "The Tara Incident","

"It's not that easy!"

"I bet it is, but you don't want to do anything about it," Alan growled.

"Shut up, Gordon. I'll break it off with Kara, but I expect you to then help me with "The Tara Affair","

"You got it," Gordon rose and immediately left.

Alan stared after his brother, a disturbed look crossing his features.

Did he just...?

'No,' Alan shook his head at the thought – he must me mistaken.

Gordon most certainly did not just skip out of his room.

No way.

.1.1.1.1.1.

The day Alan broke up with Kara was immediately written in the Tracy family history as the best day of Gordon's life.

Tin-tin just sat there and shook her head at her boyfriend, who was throwing all his energies into celebrating the disappearance of the "blood-sucking, knob-faced bitch" from his life.

Though, in private, she celebrated just as much as he did.

Now, maybe, he and Tara would finally sort everything out.

Because honestly? The sexual tension was getting so thick that you could cut it, spread it on toast and eat it for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

You know, if you wanted to eat sexual tension on toast for every meal, that is.

a/n Again, that's 2.40 in the morning. Bedtime for Flame Faerie.

Reviews are wonderful and most definitely welcome.
Special thanks to Aswen, who was the only reviewer of the last chapter :o) It was much appreciated!

And now, I bid you all adieu as I slip away to the world of in-between and enjoy my dreams of the Labyrinth.

Whee!

Much love,
The Flame Faerie

P.S. Just for fun, Happy Anniversary to my brother and his girlfriend :o) Neither read this (thank Heavens)... (though Jen is a fanfic fan...), but I just thought I'd throw it out there anyway.