Chapter 74.

At Sally's suggestion, Scott, John, Gordon and Alan all decided to join Virgil for a quick post-victory snooze before Kayo's shit show of a party began.

John had been ready to knock himself out with a couple of strong sleeping pills (or a solid whack to the head), but had been forced to hold fire until Gordon finished showering. Alongside being a light sleeper, the redhead also had an aversion to touching any form of bedding unless he was squeaky clean.

A quick round of rock, paper scissors had resulted in Gordon being given first dibs on the shower. John had propped himself up on the floor with a couple of pillows and was scrolling through his phone when the aquanaut stuck his head out the bathroom door in a cloud of tea-tree scented steam, one handing absently blasting his hair with the hairdryer.

"Hey, did you pack any towels?" Gordon asked, "Because there's only one big one in here, and I've kinda already used it…"

John withered inwardly, "Firstly, gross. Secondly, yes. Unlike some people, I don't trust the hygiene of public establishments. Those towels probably don't even get hot washed between uses. Hold up a second…what is that?"

Gordon paused in tugging a clean shirt over his head to glance at the section of towel John was pointing at, "What? I don't see anything."

"That!" John hissed, stabbing his finger accusingly at a faded mark, "Is that a stain?!"

Gordon felt his stomach flip in discomfort as he feigned ignorance and dragged a comb through his hair, "Of course that's not a stain! T-that's probably just the hotel logo, or something…"

John wasn't a particularly vindictive brother, but the urge to scream and yell 'I told you so!' as Gordon hooked the contaminated towel over his foot and kicked it away in disgust was oh so very strong.

By the time the redhead emerged from his own shower, Gordon was happily snuggled underneath the duvet, "I've set my phone alarm to go off three hours from now. Should give us enough time to get a good amount of beauty sleep."

Spare clothes were angrily tossed across the room as John fossicked through his travel bag in furious pursuit of his pyjama pants. Trust Gordon to pick his side of the bed.

"You wanna be the big or the little spoon?" the aquanaut quipped, arching a playfully suggestive eyebrow when John smacked his head on the corner of the bedside table in shock.

"If you so much as breathe on me, let alone try and spoon me, I'll hack your fingers off and force-feed them to you at dinner," the redhead seethed, pointing towards the opposing side of the mattress like an owner instructing a dog to poop on command, "Absolutely no touching or physical contact of any kind."

With a disappointed sigh that may well have been genuine, Gordon did as instructed and rolled into his designated 'zone', scowling when John marked the boundary between them with a mountain of pillows. He'd have to sign them up for marriage counselling when they got home…

…but for now, he was quite content to lie and watch as the redhead frantically scanned the mattress for bedbugs and rubbed at the bruise forming atop his head.

-x-

Once satisfied that her grandsons were out cold, Sally grabbed her purse, room key, and Scott's credit card before stuffing them all into her trusty bum bag and heading out the door, careful to shut it softly behind her.

A shopping spree was well overdue.

The Tracy matriarch decided to chance a quick glance into John and Gordon's room to check they too were asleep, and instantly high-fived herself for making such a smart decision.

Ninety nine point nine percent of John's body was obscured from view, courtesy of a certain blond aquanaut who was draped over him like a blanket. Closer inspection revealed that the lower half of John's face was visible (presumably to allow him to breathe), while the upper half was almost completely concealed by Gordon's arm.

Like a hostage afraid of waking his captor, the redhead locked eyes with Sally and wordlessly pleaded for her to deliver him from his unspeakable ordeal.

Unfortunately for John, Sally had never been a great one for pity.

"Oh, how cute!" the Tracy matriarch whispered, pulling her phone out and taking several candid snaps, "I haven't seen you two get along like this since you were kids!"

"Kill me or free me, Grandma," John wheezed, trying desperately to wriggle out from beneath Gordon's weight, "But don't mock my misery!"

Sally snickered and planted a hand on a hip. John dwarfed Gordon in the height category, but the aquanaut more than made up for that loss in the muscle department. His swimmer's physique afforded him a strength advantage that rendered his ginger brother's attempts at escape futile.

"Please," John begged, realising that a shopping trip was imminent by the presence of The Bum Bag, "I-I can hold your things while you're trying stuff on! I can advise which style of shoe best suits you! I can get EOS to download discount codes for all your favourite brands! Just please get me away from him!"

On cue, Gordon hooked a leg over John's torso and snuggled into the crook of the redhead's neck. A fistful of pyjama shirt was seized and it was with a wave of bone-shaking mirth that Sally realised that the aquanaut was snoring directly into John's right ear.

"Sorry dear," Sally whispered, smirking deviously as she turned to leave, "But I daren't wake him. Besides, look how much he's enjoying being the big spoon!"

A throaty noise that sounded suspiciously like a supressed sob followed the Tracy matriarch as she slipped back into the relative safety of the hallway.

Desperate times, John. Desperate times.

A well-aimed kick to the shin was enough to curb the explosive snores tearing out of Gordon's nose, but it took an elbow to the face and a full-bodied bed dance from John to make his younger brother roll off him. A sigh of irritation mixed with a dollop of loathing travelled up the redhead's throat as Gordon expertly cocooned himself inside the duvet and flipped over, stripping John of his half in the process.

Thunderbird Five's pilot felt himself contemplate life's fairness as he thought of the peaceful snoozes all his brothers were enjoying, while he, John Tracy, space monitor and arguably the most important member of International Rescue, was pondering the feasibility of nailing his half of the duvet to the mattress.

-x-

Alan Bartlett Tracy had the enviable ability of being able to fall and remain asleep practically anywhere.

Cars, the floor (so long as it was soft), bathtubs, the kitchen table and of course, the pilot's seat of Thunderbird Three.

Naturally, a comfy hotel bed provided the youngest with none of the difficulties he was used to weathering when trying to find a suitable spot to curl up.

Put simply, he was out like a light.

As was Virgil. The engineer (with his grandmother's help) had taken a fistful of paracetamol not thirty minutes ago and was now as unconscious as a person could be without being clinically dead.

Scott appeared to be asleep, but appearances could be deceiving. A couple of minutes of watching the eldest brother's chest steadily rise and fall provided stable evidence that he too, was dead to the world.

It would take stupidity of an entirely different breed for someone to even contemplate kidnapping one of the Tracys. They were a ridiculously tightknit family and five young, highly trained guys versus a kidnapper/assailant/abductor of any age/ability level was never going to end well for the latter.

Plus, Scott was the human equivalent of a German Shepherd.

This particular kidnapper however was well-versed in the ways of the Tracy clan, and knew to keep shadows and footsteps to an absolute minimum as he skirted around the edge of the bed, eyes fixed on the slumbering Alan.

The layout of the room was tricky. Virgil had been given his own bed, presumably because of the neck brace he was wearing to help with the post-surgery pain in his jaw. The engineer's bed was close to the door and acted as a kind of barrier between freedom and the other bed at the far end of the room, which contained Scott and Alan.

Careful to not upset the floorboards, the kidnapper stealthily weaved his way over towards his target, pausing momentarily when he heard Virgil shift in his sleep. A few seconds of subsequent silence affirmed that his cover was still intact.

Scott was, thankfully, facing away from Alan, so any sensitivity to the movement that was necessary to pluck the youngest from the bed was somewhat diminished. As gently as if he were handling a porcelain doll, the kidnapper peeled back the bedcovers and looped an arm underneath Alan's knees and another underneath his neck, before lifting him clear of the mattress and skulking back towards the door.

Scott and Virgil slept on.

-x-

Alan was having a disgusting dream.

He appeared to be in a church of some description and was sat in a pew between Colonel Casey and Grandma. The sickly sweet smell of roses hung in the air and the excited murmuration of the crowd sitting behind him was irritating to say the least.

Two of his brothers were stood up at the church alter, both wearing suits. Closer inspection revealed them to be Scott and Virgil. Gordon was, predictably, over by the buffet table and John was nowhere to be seen.

The scene shifted, and next thing Alan knew, a figure in a white dress had joined Scott at the altar. Virgil was stood to one side, weeping every so slightly, while Gordon was taking advantage of the distraction to pile his plate with food.

Alan felt a dream scowl spread across his dream face. He'd always assumed that Virgil would be the first to get married, since the engineer was just too darn sensitive for his own good. Still, it looked as if he'd have to settle for playing the best man in this particular episode of Weird Tracy Dreams.

A bubble of jealously burst inside Alan's heart. Why hadn't Scott asked him to be his best man? Probably because of family politics, or something equally inane.

Traitor.

"Do you take this man, to be your lawfully wedded husband?" a familiar voice drawled. Alan's dream eyes widened when he saw that the officiant was none other than Captain Lee Taylor.

Geez, what had he eaten to induce this kind of REM sleep weirdness?

The nameless and faceless figure in white pivoted to face Scott. Alan could tell it was a woman, but he had no idea which one. Grandma and Colonel Casey were sat either side of him (the former blowing her nose into a large handkerchief), Penelope was frantically trying to hush Sherbert two rows behind him, Havoc was (hopefully) a billion miles away and Kayo was-.

Oh….

'I do," came the affirmative, and Alan felt a scream tear up his diaphragm as the anonymous individual turned around to reveal both her face and her name.

Kayo.

Alan was stumped. He'd have bet Thunderbird Three and a year's supply of fuel that Virgil would have surpassed their eldest brother on the trail to wedded bliss. John was about as likely to get hitched as Penelope was likely to wear polyester, while Gordon, despite possessing the physique of a man, was still very much a child at heart (his midnight forays to the kitchen to steal jelly beans was living proof of this).

Right now, dream Gordon seemed much more concerned with the size of the wedding cake than his new sister-in-law.

The look of delight on Kayo's face when Captain Taylor declared her union to Scott official did it for Alan. The scream that he'd been forcing down with all his might broke loose, shattering the beautiful stained glass window directly above Scott, Kayo and Lee Taylor's heads.

Unfortunately, screams with glass-shattering potential rarely remained confined to the four walls of dreamland.

-x-

CRASH.

The bang that reverberated around the bedroom as Alan's backside came into positive contact the floor was sufficient to rouse Virgil, who let loose his own shriek of terror upon latching his gaze onto the dark figure looming over Alan's tiny form.

It was in one fluid motion that Scott made the transition from unconscious to conscious. Leaping out of bed like a man possessed, he instinctively launched himself at the legs of their intruder and effortlessly rugby tackled him/her/it to the ground.

Upon realising the gravity of the situation, the scream that had carried Alan out of dreamland took on a very different meaning. In a state of drug-induced drowsiness, Virgil reacted impulsively and mimicked the opera-like screeches that were tearing out of his youngest brother's lungs.

Down on the floor, the snatcher let loose a yelp of his own upon spying the fire in Scott Tracy's blue eyes.

Across the hall, Gordon slept on, unaware.

"Identify yourself!" Scott snarled, pinning the stranger who'd been trying to abduct his baby brother with his knees and reeling his fist back.

A strangled gasp tore out of the offender's throat, "No Scott, please! Don't!"

Screams died down and a fist went limp at the familiarity of the voice.

"John?!"

A frantic nod.

Scott scowled and squinted at his brother's face. His hair was a few shades darker than its usual copper tone and his facial symmetry was slightly off…

"Brains's photon scrambler," John gabbled, motioning to the tie looped around his neck when Scott's eyes narrowed in suspicion, "I made some adjustments in case I ever needed to conceal my face rather than just obscure it from photographs."

When Scott's expression refused to soften, John yanked the tie off and threw it to one side. Almost immediately, his hair colour and facial layout reverted back to normal.

"Holy hell on a Thunderbird!" Virgil puffed, resting a hand against his chest to calm the hammering of his heart, "You could have just knocked, you know!"

"No he couldn't have," Scott countered, releasing his hold on the terrified redhead and sitting back on his haunches, "He deliberately disguised himself so that we wouldn't recognise him. Plus, his intention for entering was to kidnap Alan."

Virgil raised a hand to his face and tested his jaw, "He's all yours Johnny. He eats three times a day and requires watering at regular intervals. Be a dear and lock the door on the way out, would you?"

Scott however, was having none of Virgil's attitude, "Out with it, John. Why were you trying to grab Alan under that rather terrifying guise?"

The disapproving stares of both his older brothers was enough to make the redhead wilt.

"Gordon's a cuddler and a snorer," John confessed, his demeanour akin to that of a puppy who'd been denied food, "All I want is just an hour of uninterrupted sleep. I get tired too, y'know."

A soft 'ping' resounded from underneath Virgil's pillow as his phone notified him of an incoming text.

Alan, who was in the process of picking himself off the floor, frowned and hoisted his pyjama shirt back into place, "Can't you just wake him up?"

John's expression shifted from starved puppy to downright outraged, "You don't think I've already tried that? Because I have! Six times! I've kicked, slapped, punched and yelled at him. If anything, he's now in an even deeper sleep than the one he was in before."

The confused and panicked look on Virgil's face as he stared at his phone went ignored.

"I'll switch with you," Scott sighed, raking a hand through his thick brown hair, "You stay here and grab a few minutes with Alan. I can assure you that he doesn't snore or cuddle. If Gordon's as bad as you say, I'll use the next hour and half to catch up on rescue reports."

"Uh, Scott?" Virgil rubbed the back of his neck nervously as the eldest Tracy prepared to make the short walk over to the neighbouring room, "Has Kayo been in touch with you at all since we got here?"

Scott frowned and fished his phone out of the pocket of his pyjama pants, "Nope, not a peep. Penelope's asked if we could pick up some crates of wine she forgot to give to Parker on our way over later though. Why? Has she been messaging you?"

"Just once," Virgil replied, his tone halting and hesitant, "She's been to see Celery, but the nurse says it has to be Gordon who signs the discharge paperwork in the morning, so no lie-in for him. She and Penelope are out dress shopping."

"And?" Scott probed, one hand on the door handle in preparation for his departure.

Virgil swallowed and idly wondered if a duvet was a suitable shield from a rampaging brother.

"She's asked me if I'll be her date for this evening."