Virgil : 18 points
Alan : 13 points
Gordon: 11 points
Scott: 11 points
John: 5 points
Challenge Three: Penny
Virgil couldn't help but look pleased with himself when they gathered in the lounge after breakfast the next morning. A win and a second place had given him a comfortable lead and although Alan's go-karting race was to be held that evening with ten points pretty much guaranteed for his youngest brother, Virgil couldn't help but feel he had a good chance of retaining first place overall.
Not that his brothers agreed.
"Make the most of it while you can, Virg," Scott teased.
"Oh, I will," Virgil told him. "Feels good, Scott. Shame you'll never find out for yourself."
Scott refused to be riled. "I'm just getting warmed up," he said lazily. "Just like in the old days - I'm giving you kids a head start before I wipe the floor with you."
"Your memory's going in your old age. You never 'wiped the floor' with us," Alan scoffed. "In fact, as I remember, it was quite the opposite!"
"Come on, Al, be fair. Big brother just let us win," Gordon said, coming up and slinging an arm around Scott's shoulder. "Isn't that right, Scotty?"
"Sure is," Scott agreed, oblivious to the ' just humour the poor guy' faces Gordon was pulling behind his back, much to the amusement - and, it had to be said, the agreement - of the other three brothers. When he did finally twig something was going on, John was quick to distract him.
"Does anyone have an idea what Penny's got in store for us?" he asked.
Nobody did.
"She's being as secretive as you, Virg," Gordon said. "Still no clues?"
Virgil shook his head. "You'll have to wait and see." Like I'm doing myself, he thought. Aside from the predictable 'paint a picture or compose a tune' tasks he wanted to avoid, he had no idea what he could put forward for his challenge. It had been easy to persuade Grandma that his event should run on the final day, so giving himself more time to think of something, but that day wasn't so far ahead any more, and he still hadn't come up with anything. His muse seemed to have deserted him, and whilst that happened on occasion, only for her to re-emerge with the most brilliant of ideas, time had never been so tight before. He was really getting desperate, especially since the more of a secret he made the event out to be, the more expectant of something spectacular everyone became.
He was saved from any further questions by the arrival of Penny.
"Good morning, boys," she said, standing in front of the wall of flame which was now flickering gently, Jeff having given up waiting for Alan to do it and restored it to Brains' original setting himself. "I do hope you'll enjoy this challenge."
"So what is it?" Scott asked.
"Well, if you'll return to your rooms, you'll find that Parker has set out everything you need. I suggest we meet in the gymnasium in half an hour. You'll need a little training before the contest begins."
Intrigued, the brothers made their way back to their rooms.
"What the..."
"Seriously?"
"Awesome!"
The brothers' reactions couldn't have been more varied. Whilst the three eldest simply stared at the outfits laid out on their beds, Gordon and Alan were hastily divesting themselves of the shorts and tee-shirts they'd been wearing and were pulling on their new garb, desperately keen to get to the gym and get started.
They even arrived ahead of Penny, who appeared some five minutes afterwards, pristine and elegant in her white, skin-tight outfit. Gordon would have whistled appreciatively, except that this was the mid twenty-first century and a man wasn't supposed to do that kind of thing anymore -especially not to someone like Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward.
"Fab choice, Penny!" Alan enthused. "I always loved The Three Musketeers."
"Me too. Dad was always telling us off for having mock sword-fights with rolled-up newspapers, " Gordon told her.
"Yeah." Alan grew misty-eyed at the memories. "Of course, the other guys didn't take too kindly to being prodded with our 'swords'."
"No," Gordon agreed. "They'd humour us for a while, but when they got fed-up they'd just grab the paper and use it as a club instead."
"Scott was the worst," Alan told her. Those things hurt, you know." He grimaced as he rubbed his head.
"Really..." Penny mused on this thought for a moment. It hadn't occurred to her that Scott might not be too enthusiastic about her challenge. She'd expected this form of combat to appeal to the one-time Air Force captain. But then again, there was a big difference between a proper duel and a childish scrimmage. She couldn't help but smile at the image of the strong, capable men she knew so well as small boys. Grandma Tracy had promised to show her some of the old video footage she'd found of those bygone days and Penny, usually none too enthusiastic at the prospect of viewing someone's old home movies - not that her innate good manners would ever have allowed her to hint at such a thing - was looking forward to getting an insight into the life of the Tracys in the years long before International Rescue.
At the sound of voices outside, she smoothed down the already perfect lines of her outfit and patted at her hair, which had been artfully tied back in a pony tail, only a few wispy tendrils framing her face. Practical yet, undeniably attractive, she'd thought, as she'd teased the style into shape. Combined with the figure-hugging suit, she knew she looked good. Not that she simply looked the part, of course. No, Penny was an accomplished swordswoman. She knew her stuff and she was looking forward to teaching the Tracy brothers some of her moves.
The door slid open and the three remaining brothers entered. John came first, looking somewhat like a male version of Penny, lithe and, though undeniably masculine, with a particular grace in his movement which was only enhanced by the crisp white suit. Virgil followed him, and Penny immediately noticed the smear of yellow paint on his sleeve. How typically Virgil, she thought, well-used to seeing him return from rescues covered in mud and dust even when everyone else was spotlessly clean.
But the one she wanted to see was Scott. She was actually proud of the self-restraint she'd shown in her choice of challenge. There would be no gratuitous Tracy-ogling today. No, she was taking this one seriously.
She actually caught her breath as Scott appeared. Though her gasp was lost amidst the catcalls and laughter from Gordon and Alan. It seemed all those workouts in preparation for the Tracylimpics had developed Scott's already considerable muscles even more than she'd realised, for the kit she'd had made for him using the measurements Grandma Tracy had given her, fitted him just a little too snugly. Not that Penny didn't appreciate it, but she couldn't help feeling a little guilty that she'd embarrassed him in front of his brothers. Though Scott tried to laugh it off, he was clearly self-conscious. Not only that, but as the training session got underway, it became clear that he was disadvantaged due to the way the tight suit restricted his movement. Still, it allowed Penny the chance to move up close and to lay her perfectly manicured hands on him as she guided him into the correct positions. Unfortunately, she had to do the same for Gordon, who, as smooth as his movements might be in the water, was considerably clumsier out of it.
After an hour of practice, Penny called a halt to proceedings. The boys were hot and tired and she herself was more than ready for a cup of tea.
"Well done," she told them. Indeed, she was more than pleased. Everyone had taken their training seriously and, if not the most elegant of swordsmen - well, aside from John, who had taken to the sport with alacrity - they were certainly not lacking in agility and daring. A good choice of challenge, she thought, and one deserving of a reward. "Would you like to join me for a cup of tea? It's eleven o'clock and Parker will be preparing a pot of Earl Grey."
The boys declined, none of them fans of the heavily scented beverage that Penny enjoyed so much.
"We're okay, Penny," Scott said, his brothers nodding in agreement. "Guess we'll stay here and practise a bit more."
"Very well." Penny paused to watch as the brothers once again assumed the appropriate position, one arm aloft as the other held the sword in a perfectly straight line. Allowing her gaze to linger on Scott just a little longer than necessary - such a pity he'd ripped the underarms of his suit, but at least the extra freedom of movement would benefit him in the eventual competition - she finally tore herself away and headed up to the lounge.
Grandma joined her for tea. The old lady had been none too sure about Penny's choice of activity and was relieved to hear that everything was in order down in the gym.
"Really, Mrs Tracy, there's nothing to worry about. The blades are blunt and the ends are capped. They release the tiniest of electrical charges when they make contact with an opponent's suit, but only enough to register the hit on the scoreboard. The boys are taking it all very seriously. It's a matter of discipline, you see."
"Oh, I know all about discipline," Grandma told her. "I've had plenty of practice." She didn't say anything, but she couldn't help but wonder how her companion would have coped with some of the dramas her boys had become involved in over the years.
Penny just laughed and insisted that the brothers had been models of decorum.
Grandma didn't look entirely convinced. She, too, had been reminded of Gordon and Alan's somewhat trying obsession with The Three Musketeers. Not only had there been numerous bruises as the improvised weapons had made contact, but she'd also regularly had to pacify an irate son whose paper had been appropriated and left tattered and torn before he'd even had time to see the headlines. There had been no elegant swordsmanship in those days, that was for sure.
"Why don't you come and see for yourself?" Penny suggested, so Grandma accompanied her down to the gym.
"You're going to be so proud of your boys, " Penny promised. "They-"
She broke off as the door slid open and she took in the scene in front of her.
The order which had been present when she'd been supervising, was long gone. The gym itself looked as though a whirlwind had swept through it. A stand which had held an assortment of weights had been knocked over, the weights scattered across the floor. A running machine had been turned on and was going at a ridiculous speed, its motor whining as a wisp of smoke crept out of the control panel. Various other pieces of equipment littered the room, having presumably escaped from a cupboard, the door of which was now hanging off its hinges.
But it was the five brothers - clearly unaware that they had company - who really caught the women's attention. Scott had Gordon in a headlock and was ignoring his brother's flailing arms and pleas for mercy as he soundly boxed his ears. John, his hand bleeding, had a terrified-looking Alan pinned against the wall, his blade at his brother's throat, whilst he muttered various things totally unsuitable for the ears of either an elderly lady or an English aristocrat.
At least Virgil wasn't getting involved. In fact, he seemed totally oblivious to the carnage around him as he stood with eyes closed, humming some new tune and using his sword as a baton with which to conduct an imaginary orchestra. Not that he appeared to have been completely left out of whatever skirmishes had ensued after Penny had left. His previously white suit was now filthy. How he'd found so much dust in such a clean room, Penny would never know.
Usually a woman of quick wits and instant action, Penny found herself totally at a loss. It was Grandma who took control, striding into the centre of the gym and surveying her errant grandsons. She didn't even need to raise her voice. A faint, but undeniably irritated cough was all it took.
Scott immediately let go of Gordon, who hit the ground in an untidy heap. John dropped his weapon, though he continued to eyeball Alan for a moment before turning away. Only Virgil was slow to react, an enthusiastic flourish of his blade nearly taking Penny's head off before Scott stepped up and pulled the weapon out of his hand.
There was a long silence. Finally, sheepishly, the five of them began to apologise.
Grandma listened frostily as Scott explained how Gordon had thought it funny to increase the voltage on his equipment so that when he scored a hit on his eldest brother, Scott had received a nasty shock.
"I didn't mean to hurt John!" Alan said hastily, indicating the hand his blond sibling was cradling. "I swear, the cap just fell off the sword. I didn't realise until John started bleeding."
Grandma shot Penny a stony glare and the aristocrat, fearless secret agent though she was, felt herself blushing scarlet. She'd checked the equipment before she'd given it out, but clearly she'd underestimated the ability of the brothers to not only break things, but to damage each other in the process.
"Virgil, stop fidgeting!" Grandma snapped, having inspected John's hand and proclaimed it to be merely a scratch. "You can write that tune down once you've tidied up. Look at the state of this place. And as for your suit... Honestly, boys, I despair."
The old lady watched as five subdued grandsons began tidying up, only speaking occasionally to point out something they'd missed, or to call a halt to any complaining - there being several dark mutterings along the lines of "It wasn't me," or "Just you wait..." . When order was finally restored, she turned and swept out of the room, announcing to a mortified Penny as she went,
"Now that, my dear, is discipline."
The contest itself was something of an anticlimax. As the brothers were still inclined to be bitter about the morning's events, Penny decided that rather than allow them to fight each other, they should all fight her and points would be awarded not only for the number of hits scored, but for the poise and elegance with which each man fought. As a result, the bouts were orderly, if a little one-sided. It was no surprise when John was declared the winner, closely followed by Scott. Penny had been highly offended when Alan had - jokingly - claimed favouritism, and the young man hadn't dared say another word, settling for third place over Virgil and Gordon, who tied for the final position.
"Great challenge, Penny!" Scott enthused, clearly relieved to have picked up a few much needed points. And faced with such a warm smile, Penny couldn't help but think that the event hadn't been such a disaster after all.
