Chapter 40.
Kayo giggled hysterically as she weaved her way out of the elevator.
"M'kay…" Penelope slurred, teetering precariously on her ridiculously high heels, "Our keys say rooms two seventeen and two eighteen. L-Lucky they're right next to each other!"
Scott sighed as he shooed his brothers out of the elevator. He wasn't sure if being separated from their tipsy female colleagues by just a wall would be sufficient.
"T-This is our stop," Kayo announced, slapping her palm against the door she'd stopped next to, "Oh, whoops! My bad. This is two nineteen."
Virgil cringed as a string of muffled profanities began to filter out from under the door of two nineteen, it's occupants no doubt cross at being woken by Kayo's obnoxious knocking.
"Here we are!" Penelope sang, squinting in concentration as she tried to unlock the door. Three tries later, she surrendered and handed the key to Alan.
"Be a dear and open the door for me, would you?" Penelope purred, politely raising her hand when an unladylike hiccup threatened to break loose.
Alan did as instructed, squeaking in shock when Kayo playfully slapped him on the backside.
"Atta boy, Allie!" Shadow's pilot drawled, leaning against the wall when her legs threatened to give way, "Y-You're such a good little bean."
Alan didn't know whether to be insulted or downright elated. Insulted because Kayo had likened him to his least favourite vegetable. Elated because she'd just smacked him on the butt. Deliberately.
And his brothers had witnessed it.
"Okay lads, we're going to t-turn in…" Penelope mumbled, her gaze unfocussed, "K-Kayo, give them the other key would you? I'm going to quickly f-freshen up."
"Yes, m'lady," Kayo replied, dragging her tongue across the keycard before throwing it at John. Gordon barked a laugh when the redhead leapt away from the saliva smothered projectile like it was a live bomb.
Scott rolled his eyes and snatched the key off the floor before shoving it into the door, "Seriously, John? And you wonder why I don't invite you on family vacations anymore."
Over on Virgil's left, Gordon frowned in confusion, "What are you talking about? We haven't taken a family vacation in years. The last one I remember was several months before dad's accident."
Scott shrugged and shouldered the door open, "I took a rather nice one to the Swiss Alps for a week last July. The weather was beautiful, and the skiing excellent."
Virgil's eyes widened accusingly, "You said you spent all of that week in Mumbai helping with the rebuilding efforts after a mudslide!"
"I did," Scott replied, holding the door open so that Gordon and Alan could pass through, "But then I fancied a holiday, so I took one."
"And why the hell were none of us invited?" Virgil demanded.
Scott was about to reply, but was cut off by John making an unintelligible sound of surprise. Barely a second passed before Gordon and Alan followed with similar noises of distress.
"What's the matter?" Virgil grunted, elbowing his way into the room, "Did they forget to bring our luggage up?"
"Not exactly," Gordon began, nervously scratching the back of his head as he motioned for Virgil to look at the bed.
Which barely classed as a double.
"What the hell is that?" John spat, glowering in disgust at the pillows and sheets as if they'd personally offended him, "I've seen dog beds larger than this."
Gordon cringed, his mind already calculating which piece of blackmail he'd have to use in order to prevent Scott from relegating him to the floor.
"I've got a bad back," Alan announced, his eyes shifting nervously between Virgil's expressionless face and John's thunderous one, "So on medical grounds, I call dibs."
"And I've had a bad shoulder for the last five months," John hissed, glaring at Alan like he was something he'd stepped in, "You've had your bad back for all of two hours. Unless you want me to infect all of your game consoles with a virus, you'll back the hell off and let me have the bed."
Scott's eyes nearly disappeared into his head, "John, you're not even thirty yet. Quit acting like you're made of paper."
The redhead whirled on Scott and stabbed an accusing finger, "Don't think I'm above biting you again if you try and force me to sleep on the floor."
Virgil frowned and folded his arms, "Now hold up, John. Who does all the heavy lifting? Who gets deployed the most? Who spends all his time ferrying everyone else around? All you do is drift around in Thunderbird Five like a leaf. Alan, you're young, which means you still have the amazing ability to sleep pretty much anything off, meaning you'll be fine come tomorrow. All things considered, I'm definitely the most deserving of a soft bed. Plus, I'm the largest. Anyone who challenges me will be sat on."
Gordon scowled, "Yeah? Well I've got shower footage of all of you. Don't look at me like that, John. EOS is in on it too. She livestreams all of your showers direct to a folder on my phone. And Virgil, I have video evidence of you using Grandma's shampoo. Now, either I get the bed, or Lady Penelope's journalist friends will be receiving some very risqué videos."
Scott sighed and unzipped his suitcase.
"And you all genuinely wonder why I don't invite you on family vacations anymore."
-x-
"This feels weird."
"That's because it is."
"Does anyone else think this feels weird?"
"All of us."
"This is definitely the weirdest thing we've ever done."
"Go figure."
"I'm never going to be able to sleep surrounded by so much weirdness."
"Gordon!" John sat bolt upright and glared murderously at his brother, "Will you please shut up! Some of us are trying to escape the absurdity of the situation by falling asleep."
"Speak for yourself," Virgil muttered, "I'm on full-blown attack mode over here."
"Why?" Scott grumbled, cringing when John draped a leg over his torso.
"Gordon's butt's in my face," Virgil replied, "No way am I dropping my guard for a single second."
"Hey!" Gordon protested, poking his head out from underneath the duvet, "I resent that!"
"Yeah? Well I resent you," Virgil retaliated, slinging an arm over his eyes.
From his position next to Gordon, Alan gave a hopeless sigh. Given the size of the room and everyone's refusal to sleep anywhere but the bed, they'd resorted to the top and tail strategy. Virgil, John, and Alan all had their heads at the top of the bed, while Scott and Gordon had theirs at the bottom.
The good news was that they all just about fit.
The bad news was that they were sandwiched together like sardines. Moving even an inch was completely out of the question.
"My foot itches," Gordon whined, "Virg, could you reach down and scratch it for me? Just above the big toe."
"If I reach down, I risk falling off the edge," Virgil retorted, "I'm already having to cling on for dear life."
"Are these pillows hypoallergenic?" John asked, scowling in suspicion as he poked the one his head was laid upon.
"Don't know," Scott replied in a deadpan tone.
"Did anyone check for bedbugs before we got in?" John suddenly gasped, drawing his knees up and flicking his phone's flashlight on before hastily scanning the bedframe.
"Don't care," Scott replied, his tone as deadpan as before.
Gordon jolted as John drove his heel into their eldest brother's stomach.
"This isn't a laughing matter!" the redhead snarled, roughly shoving Alan's face under the duvet so he could inspect the headboard behind the youngest Tracy's pillow, "Even five star establishments can be full of parasites. Beds in particular are breeding grounds for all kinds of bacteria. Think of all the people who've slept on this mattress before us. We're talking about hundreds of grams of dead skin cells, not to mention saliva, sweat, urine and other, ahem, secretions."
There was a brief moment of horrified silence. Satisfied that he'd made his point, John returned to examining the base of the mattress, ducking at the last possible second when Virgil tried to thump him.
"Wow John, thanks so much for planting all those lovely images in my head! As if I wasn't already having enough trouble nodding off," Virgil growled, tossing his pillow onto the floor in disgust.
Alan gave a muffled squeak of discontent as John reached over to return Virgil's thump. As the smallest and shortest, he'd been assigned the unenviable position of being sandwiched between Virgil and John. While he was in no danger of falling off the bed, he wasn't looking forward to having to clamber over one of his brothers in the middle of the night when he had to use the bathroom.
"Guys, stop!" Alan whined, shielding his head with his arms as John and Virgil swiped at each other like a pair of teenagers, "You're making the bed rock!"
Down at the base of the mattress, Gordon giggled evilly, "Wow, Johnny! Never thought I'd hear that."
"Shut up," John snarled, his voice like barbed wire as he directed a kick at the aquanaut's ribs.
"Gah! Quit it!" Gordon yelped, brandishing his foot in John's face, "One more unprovoked attack, and I'll shove my toe up your nose!"
John surrendered the instant his brother's trotter came within sniffing distance, "Eugh! Get that thing away from me! Holy hell on a Thunderbird, when did you last change your socks?"
"A couple of days ago," Gordon replied breezily, wiggling his toes for emphasis, "But I sweated up a storm on the flight over here, so they might be a little cheesier than usual."
John outright gagged as he desperately swiped at his brother's foot. On the other side of Alan, Virgil's jaw clicked in anger when one of the redhead's flailing limbs accidentally cuffed him over the ear.
"Right, that's it!" Virgil announced, throwing the covers off before seizing John by his bad shoulder, "You two are sleeping on the-"
Twang.
The next three seconds passed in a blur of confusion.
There was a loud snapping sound as the mattress promptly folded in half, encasing all five Tracys inside.
"What the hell?" Scott spat, his heart threatening to burst clean out of his ribcage, "Virgil! What did you do?"
"Nothing!" Virgil cried, his face suddenly dangerously close to Gordon's chest, "I swear, I didn't touch or do anything!"
A moment of silence ensued as each Tracy tried to frantically wriggle his way to freedom.
"I think we broke the mattress," Gordon solemnly announced, his knees underneath his chin.
"As if this evening couldn't get any more undignified!" John spat, glowering at his arms that were now stuck vertically out in front of him.
There was a high pitched squeak as Alan started desperately flailing his hands. The force of the mattress springing shut had pushed him halfway down the bed, and the compression from being sandwiched between Virgil and John was suffocating him. With all the strength his delicate form possessed, the youngest began to wriggle and writhe for all he was worth.
"No bed is designed to carry the combined weight of five people," Scott wheezed, recoiling in disgust when he realised that Virgil's foot was suspended mere inches from his face, "Okay, if we all brace our legs and push onto our backs, we should be able to straighten the mattress long enough for us all to roll off."
"It won't work," Virgil panted, waving his arms in a desperate attempt to get some leverage, "The springs are completely stretched, which means they're a huge source of elastic potential energy. The mattress has essentially turned into an oversized mousetrap."
"So what does that mean for us getting out?" Gordon hissed.
Virgil paused to shoot Scott a look of resignation.
"We can't. We're stuck."