Scott wasn't use to having to say 'thank you' to someone outside of family and friends; usually it was someone else saying 'thank you' to him.
Now he had problem. A two meter tall, two hundred thirty kilogram, cyborg problem, who called himself the Mechanic.
Saying 'thank you' wouldn't be such a problem if he didn't feel that he had to apologize at the same time.
Because he did feel he had to apologize.
Now, he had had good reason to be suspicious and cautious. The Mechanic had endangered his brothers and sister's lives, as well as the lives of countless civilians in the past. He had also kept his word to rebuild the T-Drive engine, enabled them to rescue their Dad, and had help defend their home, family and friends from the Chaos Crew, and currently was putting his brilliant mind to work to design and build gadgets and devices for International Rescue and other first responders, as well as revolutionizing space flight with Brains.
So yeah, a bit of an apology was in order.
The Mechanic was standing at the edge of the villa watching Moffy coax Brains into joining her in the pool. He was smiling faintly.
Which Scott took as a sign that now was the time to express his gratitude and his regrets.
"They look like they're having fun," he said as he came to stand next to the Mechanic (and that was another thing he wasn't use to, someone being taller than him.)
"Hmm,hmm," the Mechanic nodded, his eyes never leaving the frolicking boffins.
Scott took a deep breath.
"You've been smuggling in baked goods from La tarte aux pommes d'or for the last six months," the Mechanic didn't give him a chance to even start, "I like classic éclairs and profiteroles filled orange cream. Add those into the 'order' and we're even."
Scott looked up mildly annoyed at the Mechanic, who finally slid his eyes over and down to look at Scott; they sparkled with mischief.
"You've been telegraphing your intentions for a week, Tracy."
And Scott's annoyance bled away as he laughed.
"Never quite got the hang of subtle."
"I have some ideas for Thunderbird One," the Mechanic said, a trace of nervousness in his voice, "Brains said I should run them by you."
Thunderbird One was Scott's pride and joy. He wasn't certain if he wanted anyone other Brains or himself to work on her. Still…
"Go ahead, I'm listening."
Author's notes: I think we all know that the ultimate currency on Tracy Island is Food!