Chapter 5.

John woke up not knowing where the hell he was.

His head was resting on something soft, and he was aware that he was still fully clothed (thankfully). He could hear the sound of the ocean lapping in the distance, and could smell something sweet cooking.

The redhead cracked open an eye and instantly wished he hadn't. The sunlight that was streaming through a nearby window damn well blinded him, and he could hear his pulse ringing in his ears. Groaning loudly, he levered himself into a sitting position and squinted around the room.

He was back home, thank god. Someone had left him on one of the sun loungers and covered him with a blanket. Much to the redhead's delight, there was also a glass of water and a couple of painkillers on the floor next to him, with a handwritten note from Scott telling him to yell if he needed anything.

Who needed a girlfriend when you had Scott?

CRASH

John winced as something shattered in the kitchen, the sound grating on his frazzled brain. Careful not to move too quickly, he slowly pivoted his head towards the source of the racket.

Gordon was lolloping around by the microwave, polishing off a bowl of cereal while he waited for whatever was inside to finish cooking. He'd been in the middle of checking the timer when the bowl had slipped from his hand and ended up in six different pieces on the floor.

Letting loose a string of words that John did not approve of, the aquanaut seized a dishtowel and dropped it onto the floor, steering it around with his foot to mop up the worst of the milk. Once satisfied that the immediate damage had been taken care of, he returned his attention to the pinging microwave.

John's stomach did a somersault as Gordon pulled out a stack of steaming hot waffles. His younger brother made a sound of excited anticipation as he drowned the plate in maple syrup. As if that wasn't bad enough, the fourth Tracy then stuck his head into the freezer and yanked out a tub of ice cream, completing his breakfast disaster with two large scoops of vanilla.

The smell alone was bad enough, however coupled with the sight of Gordon tucking into what could only be described as a culinary catastrophe was enough to make John's nausea ten times worse. With a groan of despair, the redhead necked his painkillers and dove back underneath his blanket for cover.

Unfortunately, the sudden movement had caught Gordon's attention. Upon catching sight of the John-shaped lump shifting, the aquanaut abandoned his breakfast and scurried over to check on his brother.

"Morning Space Carrot! How are you feeling? Good date last night? Not that I would know…hey, did you sleep okay down here? We originally left you on one of the sofas, but Scott said it would be better to move you out here where there's less foot traffic. These loungers are great and all, but my butt goes numb when I've been sat on them for a long time. Don't think I could spend a whole night down here, although you were pretty out of it. Do you want some breakfast? I've probably made enough for two."

John's head throbbed in time with each word that left Gordon's mouth. Of all the people in the house he could have been stuck with, fate had chosen the chatterbox.

The pitter-pattering of feet echoed around the kitchen as Gordon grabbed his sugary breakfast, along with a spare spoon, and returned to the patio. Without waiting for an invite, he dumped his butt on the end of John's lounger and laid the redhead's legs across his lap to act as a tray of sorts.

"Man! Virgil was snoring so loud last night, I swear he cracked one of the water pipes. I tried to go into his room to wake him up, but he locks his door now. Why does everyone around here lock their doors? It's not like any of us have anything to hide, right? I think we should all be able to walk into each other's rooms openly and freely. Of course, I know Scott locks his door because I keep dumping my dirty laundry in with his, but that was a long time ago. I've grown and matured considerably over the last two weeks. What do you say John, don't you think locks are an inconvenience? Except in the bathroom, I suppose…"

Asphyxiation was rapidly becoming an appealing option to John as Gordon's voice continued to grate on his eardrums. His head felt as if it was about to implode, and the pressure behind his eyes was unbearable. If his IQ suffered as a result of this, he'd never forgive Kayo.

Ah shit, Kayo!

A worm-dance of sorts ensued as the redhead wriggled his way out from underneath his blanket, his normally neat fringe flopping into his eyes as he scanned the house and poolside for Thunderbird Shadow's pilot.

"Where's Kayo?" John mumbled, completely disregarding Gordon's rant, which had now switched to why Scott wouldn't let him get a dog.

"Kayo? Still in bed I think. Man, she did not look happy after hauling your sorry butt back here last night, bro," Gordon replied, spoon scraping against his bowl as he hoovered up the last few waffle crumbs, "Ah, sorry bro," he suddenly exclaimed, "Did you want some?" he offered the bowl to John, who gagged and pushed it away with his hand.

"Most certainly not!" the redhead coughed, slapping a hand across his mouth when a burp threatened to break loose. The sight of some sad waffle crumbs swimming around in half-melted ice cream was enough to make him never want to look at food again.

"Alright, alright," Gordon huffed, tipping the bowl back and drinking the remains of the ice cream, "Geez, you don't wear a hangover well, do you? I'm going to go and get Scott, he'll know what to do with you."

Roughly shoving John's legs off his lap, the aquanaut stood up and walked to the sink to deposit his bowl. Knowing that John was in no state to reprimand him over his failure to use the dishwasher, Gordon scampered off in search of their eldest brother, leaving International Rescue's resident spaceman beached on his lounger.

Relishing the peace and quiet, John burrowed back under his blanket and tried to go back to sleep. With his infernal date with Kayo out of the way, there was nothing stopping him from returning to Thunderbird Five once his hangover had packed its bags and moved out.

Except maybe a small part of him that wanted to see his brothers suffer in the same way he had…

-x-

A few hours passed before John was roused again, but this time it wasn't by shattering china. The painkillers had taken effect while he'd been asleep, making it considerably easier for him to sit up and take stock of his surroundings the second time around.

Alan was sat at the kitchen table, pen poised as he scribbled away at some homework he'd smartly left until the very last minute. Scott was sat opposite him, sorting through some paperwork with a tall glass of milk for company, while Virgil was up in the lounge at the piano. Gordon wasn't in his immediate line of vision, but the sound of splashing water told the redhead that he was in the pool, per the norm.

"Feeling better?" Scott asked, idly dipping a biscuit into his milk as he signed something, "You've been asleep all day. Kayo's due to come down and announce who tonight's poor sucker is any minute."

Turquoise eyes were scrubbed tiredly, their owner daydreaming of a shower, "Glad to hear I didn't miss the fun. Have any of you seen her today?"

Scott glanced up and nodded, "She came down earlier to get some food. Hasn't gotten out of her dressing gown all day. I reckon she's pretty tired from having to drag you back home after your date went a little…ahem…south."

A 'thwack' sounded around the patio as John slapped a hand over his eyes, "Please spare me the details. No doubt they'll be reflected in my score."

Alan peeked up from his textbook with bright eyes, "Actually, Lady P called earlier and said that Kayo sent over your results to her last night. She offered to share them with us, but declined when she saw the state you were in. Can I ring her back, now that you're awake?"

John propped himself up on an elbow and shrugged, "Be my guest."

Grateful to have an excuse not to do schoolwork, Alan sprang to his feet and set about establishing a connection with their London agent. Precise and punctual as ever, Lady Penelope answered after the first ring.

"Afternoon, boys!" she greeted, shooting a sympathetic smile in John's direction, "Glad to see you're up and about, John. You looked really sick when I called earlier. How are you feeling?"

"Like my head has its own gravitational field," the redhead replied, rubbing his temple for emphasis, "I hear Kayo already sent you my score. Should I pretend to listen, or should I just save you all the trouble and banish myself back to the isolation of orbit?"

Penelope tutted and shook her head, "Really John, you're being much too hard on yourself. On the contrary, you were doing remarkably well right up until you passed out."

The serenity of the piano piece that Virgil was playing was broken by a sharp and squeaky C note working its way in, courtesy of the snorts of laughing escaping from between the engineer's clamped lips.

As their London agent set about pulling up John's scores, Gordon suddenly materialised, tracking pool water through the kitchen as he headed towards the hangars, "Fancy seeing you here, m'lady!"

Penelope glanced up and did a double take upon seeing the pineapple design scattered across Gordon's trunks, "Good afternoon, Gordon. I was just about to give your brother a bit of feedback after last night."

"We're all ears," Scott proclaimed, draining the last of his milk.

A dainty cough filtered over the comm as Penelope cleared her throat, "Well, whoever helped him with his wardrobe did an excellent job. Finding suitable colours to go with red hair can be quite tricky, but the dark colours suited him perfectly. He scored a four for that category. The activity and location were lacking in both originality and memorability I'm afraid. While a movie and drinks is a solid choice, Kayo felt that he played it too safe. I'm afraid he only scored two for that one. He was more than generous with offering to pay for all of Kayo's drinks however, so managed to claw back some budget points, even if ninety percent of their combined bill was for his own drinks. Again, he scored four in that category. For manners, he really shone. Even under the influence of alcohol, he was a perfect gentleman. He got a solid five for that. Finally, was he second date material? In short, Kayo says yes. Had he not succumbed to overindulgence, he'd have scored solidly in that department. Unfortunately, fainting and then having to be physically manhandled back to Thunderbird Two put a bit of a dent in that achievement. We've been fair and factored his nerves into the equation, so in light of that, have decided to give him a three, which brings his final score to eighteen. All in all, he'd have probably aced it if he had of just survived long enough to see Kayo safely home. John, I'd be pretty chuffed with that if I were you."

Reactions in the room varied as much as the boy's hair colours. Virgil gave John a congratulatory slap on the back, while Scott patted his knee proudly, if a little stiffly. On the opposing sofa, Gordon and Alan looked as if Christmas had been cancelled.

"Given the hour, I think it would be prudent if we selected our next participant without waiting for Kayo," Penelope continued, motioning to the bowl that contained the remaining names, "John, as you're the man of the hour, would you like to do the honours?"

Eager to pass the baton to someone else, the redhead slowly extended a hand towards the bowl Alan was offering him and fished a name out. He pulled it under the safety of his blanket before announcing the next victim.

"Scott."

Gordon, who'd straightened in excited anticipation, flopped back onto the sofa with a sulky huff. Alan looked mildly relieved (he still hadn't been shopping), while Virgil seemed content to return his attention to the music he'd been playing, a sly smile infecting his face as he leafed through his sheet notes.

Scott himself just smiled benignly, "Thank you for filling us in, Lady P. Could you tell Kayo to meet me in Thunderbird One's hangar at six? Also, tell her to wear boots without a heel and some comfortable trousers."

"F.A.B," Penelope replied, signing off with a polite wave.

"Comfy trousers, huh?" Gordon probed, his caramel eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"You'll see," Scott replied, standing up and tossing the mini camera at Alan, "I daresay you'll be spying again. Watch and see how it's done."

John, who was running considerably slower than usual, frowned at his brother's exchange, "Wait…were you spying on me last night?"

Alan nodded happily, "Yeah! Wanna see the footage?"

Turquoise eyes tripled in size as John shook his head and scrambled to his feet, ignoring the wave of dizziness that hit him as soon as he was vertical. Paying no mind to the voices of his brothers, he swiftly made his way towards the bathroom, desperate for a shower and some clean clothes. Halfway up the stairs his abused (and slightly shrunken) brain suddenly spat out an idea, "EOS, run a scan on Brains's mini camera and delete all footage with yesterday's date please."

"Of course, John," came the immediate reply.

The redhead allowed himself a small smile.

Who needed a girlfriend when you had EOS?