Chapter 12.
It was a very grey-faced Scott, Virgil, John, and Gordon that descended the staircase for breakfast the following morning.
Granted, Alan wasn't feeling spectacular himself. He'd spent half the night sat up with Gordon, holding his brother's unstyled hair out of his face as he hurled his guts up into the early hours of the morning.
Grandma, Kayo, and Brains had been called in to help when Alan had realised that he couldn't care for four puking brothers by himself. The casualties had been divvied up and despatched back to their rooms with a caretaker and copious amounts of anti-sickness medication in tow.
Alan hadn't minded sitting up with Gordon. Though fatigue had threatened to get the better of him on several occasions, the silence of the night (save for Gordon's convulsive vomiting) and relative isolation of the aquanaut's room had given Alan time to process his date with Kayo.
With the exception of the blisters that had now formed along his thighs, buttocks, and most of his lower back, he felt it had gone relatively well.
Kayo herself had affirmed his thoughts when she'd padded downstairs to take over the care of Scott. Though she hadn't said a word, she'd thrown Alan a secret smile and wink before herding her casualty out the door.
If all the romantic movies Virgil insisted on watching had taught Alan anything, it was that smiles and winks often suggested that the giver and receiver had something called a 'thing' going on.
-x-
Sally sighed loudly as she placed four mugs of ginger tea on the kitchen table and slid them over to her poorly grandsons.
"Here you go, boys," she said, patting John's head in sympathy, "Drink these up. They should help a bit with the nausea. Do any of you feel up to eating anything?"
Four heads shook in perfect unison, the motion causing Virgil to groan and drop his face into his hands. Alan winced in sympathy and took a sip of his own drink, frowning as Kayo began to grope around in the bin in search of clues.
"I don't understand where that chicken came from," Shadow's pilot mused, shooting a quizzical look in Sally's direction, "I swear I didn't see it yesterday afternoon when I was making lunch."
The Tracy matriarch shook her head, equally confused, "I didn't even know we had any in the house. I was planning on adding it to the list for our next supply run."
Brains glanced up from tinkering with one of MAX's dials, "Was it definitely chicken you boys ate? Not fish or t-turkey?"
John growled into his tea, "Just because we're not cooking experts, doesn't mean we can't identify what we stuff into our faces. It was definitely chicken."
The scientist frowned in thought, the wrench in his hand poised mid-turn, "Maybe it was something in the salad? Did you use tomatoes or celery? T-Those can cause food poisoning if not washed properly."
"We barely touched the salad," Scott confessed, wiping at his sweaty brow, "We were planning on saving the best until last."
A sarcastic snort filtered out of the bin as Kayo fished a piece of the offending chicken out for closer inspection. Upon spying the rather manky offering, Gordon gagged loudly and motioned for his brothers to not turn around.
"Oh m-my!" Brains exclaimed, dropping his wrench in shock, "T-That's no ordinary chicken!"
"Meaning?" Kayo asked, pinching the slab of poultry with the fingers of one hand, her other clasped across her nose in disgust.
Brains scratched the back of his head sheepishly, "I started an experiment about a week ago investigating how long it t-takes to cultivate campylobacter bacteria on cooked poultry. I was storing a plate of chicken in a portable fridge in my lab, but the b-battery died, so I moved it up here to the main fridge while I fixed the portable one. I must have gotten distracted with Thunderbird Three's maintenance check and forgotten to remove it before the boys found it and ate it. That would explain the horrible t-taste they all complained about."
Alan didn't think he'd ever in all his life seen expressions of horror quite like the ones adorning the faces of his four older brothers. Kayo followed his gaze and after getting an eyeful herself, promptly burst into a giggling fit.
"It was an honest mistake, Brains," Sally soothed, placing a reassuring hand on the scientist's shoulder when he shifted in visible guilt, "What I'm more curious about is why you were running such an experiment in the first place? Aren't bacteria and fungi outside of your usual specialism?"
"Science respects no boundaries, Mrs T-Tracy," Brains replied, adjusting his glasses with an air of pride, "Findings from such an experiment could help inform food hygiene guidelines around the world and potentially save thousands of lives."
"I'm so glad we were able to help," Scott hissed, his complexion waxy as he took a rather dainty sip of his tea, "Can I have my contribution carved into my tombstone please?"
"Look on the b-bright side, Scott," Brains countered, buckling slightly under the heat of four glares, "The main symptom of a campylobacter infection is usually mild to severe diarrhoea, so you boys actually got off quite lightly by comparison."
Alan hastily busied himself with refilling Virgil's tea.
He'd had enough butt-related issues in the last twelve hours to last him a lifetime.
-x-
A short few hours and several aching stomachs later, and Alan and Sally had managed to transfer all four sick Tracy brothers from the kitchen up to the comfort of the lounge.
"Did you sign them off duty?" Sally asked, positioning a cushion behind Gordon's head.
"Yup," Alan affirmed, puffing his chest out a smidgen as he draped a blanket over Virgil, "All done. Kayo and myself are still listed as available though."
"Good boy," Sally beamed, "I'm off to go and check on those hibiscus that have taken root down by the pool. They seem to be doing fine, but I don't want the iguanas eating them."
Gordon snorted quietly, "They'll have to compete with a lovesick Alan and his bouquets first."
"Oh yeah, tell us how it went!" Scott wheezed enthusiastically, clawing himself into a sitting position with obvious difficulty, "Any pearls of wisdom you want to share with Gordon and Virgil?"
Alan flushed pink and opened his mouth to reply, only to be beaten by Lady Penelope's hologram flickering to life in the middle of the room.
"Hello all!" their London agent beamed, faltering slightly when she saw the zombified states brothers one through four were in, "Oh my! Are you all quite alright?"
"Just peachy," John drawled, his long legs dangling off the end of the sofa he was on, "Are you ringing in with Alan's score?"
"Nothing gets past you lot," Penelope replied with a smile, cringing slightly when Virgil's stomach gurgled loudly, "I could ring back later though, if now isn't a good time? That's the only problem with these holographic communication devices. You can't exactly ignore a call if the timing isn't suitable."
"We'll be fine," Scott insisted, forcing a smile, "Don't keep us in suspense. Tell us how he did."
Penelope smiled kindly at Alan's pale face and cleared her throat, "Taking his rather tender age into consideration, he did very well. His wardrobe was quite casual, however Kayo deemed it suitable given the nature of the date. He scored four in that category. The activity and location were both imaginative and well thought out, however it was obvious he hadn't pre-watched the movie in question prior to the date. Despite Kayo's overall satisfaction, this could have potentially led to some awkwardness had the film had a different age rating. Again, he scored four in that category. As for budget, he used his own home cinema system, which was innovative and necessary given the location he chose. He scored a five for that one. His manners were excellent, although I'm afraid he did let himself down a bit with all of the crying."
Gordon managed to muster enough strength to throw Alan an incredulous look, "Dude! You cried?"
Valuable blood began to pool in Alan's cheeks, "Weren't you spying on me with the mini cam? What were you doing all evening?"
"Singing love songs to the toilet," Scott replied with a grimace.
One of Penelope's immaculately plucked eyebrows rose in curiosity at the mention of the mini cam. She let her gaze linger on the youngest Tracy for a few seconds before shrugging and resuming her review, "Ahem, as I was saying, his manners were excellent. He was a right little 'munchkin', at least according to the notes I have from Kayo here."
Gordon and John both snickered at Kayo's descriptive language, however shut up when their stomachs rumbled in discomfort.
"You managed to secure yourself a four in the manners section, Alan," Penelope continued, "And finally, did Kayo consider you second date material? There are some rather detailed notes here about age gaps, however you scored a respectable three overall. Your total score was twenty, which is just one below Scott. Well done Alan, that's truly impressive!"
The youngest Tracy allowed himself a smile of victory. Sure, he might have drawn level with (or even beaten) Scott had he not cried, but he still had plenty of years left to finetune his dating tactics. The previous night's fiasco had merely been a trial run, an opportunity for him to let his Tracy charm off the leash for the very first time.
And it had come running back with its tail wagging for more.
"Would you like to go ahead and do the honours, Alan?" Penelope's crisp voice interjected, "I believe it's your turn."
Alan snapped to attention and scurried off to find the bowl, his fingers taking their time deciding between the two remaining slips of paper. After pausing several times for dramatic effect (much to the annoyance of his brothers), he pulled a piece out and slowly unravelled it.
"Virgil."
Gordon gave a cry of disbelief and stuffed his head under a cushion, however quickly realised his good fortune when another wave of nausea engulfed him.
"Excellent," Penelope sang, smiling as Sherbert bounced onto her lap, "I'll inform Kayo as soon as I've taken Bertie for his walk. Shall I tell her six again, Virgil? And will she need to wear anything specific?"
Virgil shook his head and stifled a burp, "Six is fine. Just tell her to wear something she won't mind getting wet."
Their London agent's blue eyes widened in curiosity, "Very well, I'll do just that. I hope you all start to feel better soon. Parker and myself are only a call away if you need us."
The holoprojector shut off with a soft beep, giving way to silence.
Of course, silences never lasted long on Tracy Island.
"I'm not letting you borrow Thunderbird Four," Gordon muttered, sticking his head out from underneath his blanket to glare daggers at Virgil.
"I don't need your silly little sardine can," the engineer snorted, his tone laced with mockery, "The only girl I'd willingly take in there is one with four legs and a tail."
"You did imply that your date will feature water," John observed, trying his best to keep movement to an absolute minimum, "What are you planning? Swimming with dolphins? Whale watching?"
Gordon thrashed around at his end of the sofa like a fish out of water, his face contorted in anger, "You'll need Thunderbird Four to do both of those things properly! I'm telling you Virgil, I'm not loaning you my 'Bird! You'll have better luck mining for gold in a duck's butt!"
The engineer seemed remarkably unconcerned, gazing at his aquanaut brother with a benign expression, "Thanks for the recommendation. I might grab up a couple of mallards on the way home to help finance Thunderbird Two's new paintjob."
Gordon's eyebrows nearly climbed off his face in anger, however a well-timed stomach cramp halted any smart retorts he had planned.
"Don't follow his example, Alan. Never let things go to your head," Virgil warned, catching sight of the dreamy expression plastered across their youngest brother's face, "Cockiness always comes back to bite you in the butt."
Alan scowled as a familiar burning sensation began to travel down his backside.
"I know all about butts and biting, thank you very much."