Chapter 47.
Scott had just finished helping Penelope organise a bunch of his grandmother's wild hibiscus in a vase on the kitchen table when Virgil asked the fateful question.
"Yo, Gordo! When's dinner coming? I'm so hungry I'm starting to fantasise about what Sherbert would look like with an apple in his mouth," the engineer yelled, ignoring Parker's look of horror.
"One minute!" Gordon replied, cursing loudly when the smoke alarm sounded for the fourth time that hour.
"Really Virgil, you must never rush a chef in the final stages of food preparation," Penelope tutted, smoothing down the front of her pink silk dress before laying a napkin across her lap, "I'm sure whatever Gordon has made will be worth the wait."
"That's very kind of you to say, dear, but unfortunately he didn't inherit my culinary expertise," Sally announced with a sigh, oblivious to the stares of disbelief being shared by her four remaining grandsons.
Another crash from the kitchen signalled the arrival of dinner.
"It's piping hot," Gordon warned, staggering over and depositing two plates in front of Virgil and Alan before sprinting back to the kitchen to fetch the others.
The expression on Virgil's face as he studied the food in front of him was hard to describe. It was a hilarious combination of confusion, shock, and sadness, all garnished with a healthy amount of disappointment.
"Uh, Gordo?" Virgil motioned to his plate of plain noodles, "What happened to the pasta? And where's the chicken and the sauce? I thought you were following Scott's alfredo recipe?"
Gordon kept his eyes downcast as he returned with John and Kayo's plates, "I was, but I couldn't quite get the seasoning right. I kept sampling it and…well, I may have accidentally ended up taste testing the entire batch."
Kayo's own expression was nothing short of tragic as she glanced over towards John, who was poking at his pile of undressed noodles in disbelief.
"Look on the bright side," Scott cleared his throat awkwardly, "At least there's no risk of anything on your allergy list being in there, right John?"
The redhead looked fit to explode as he fixed his crosshairs on his eldest brother, "Scott, I've not eaten since breakfast. I would quite happily hack your leg off and toss it on the barbeque right now, that's how hungry I am. You're right to say there's nothing here that will trigger any of my allergies, but that's because there's nothing here, period."
"Noodles?" Alan dragged his fork across the string-like pile on his plate, "I thought Scott's recipe used pasta?"
"It does," Sally sighed and dropped her head into her hands, "But we're out of pasta. Scott used the last of it yesterday evening. The poor kid's obviously tried to improvise as best he can."
"What should we do?" Penelope whispered, her blue eyes tracking Gordon to make sure he was safely out of earshot, "We can't tell him. It would break his heart."
"M'lady is right," Parker agreed, reaching for the bowl of parmesan and sprinkling a generous handful over his plate, "If we cover it in this fancy stuff, it'll be just like the mac and cheese we used to 'ave in the good 'ol days."
Scott sighed, "Well, when you put it like that…I'll never say no to a childhood favourite."
While Gordon was preoccupied with hiding in the kitchen under the guise of feeding Celery, the rest of the group busied themselves with passing the parmesan dish around.
"No thanks," John shook his head when his turn came, "I think my stomach just resigned in disgust."
Scott's eyes narrowed as he began to mix his noodle concoction together, "Come on, John. He's your brother too. You know if the roles were reversed, he'd be one of the first to leap to your defence."
John growled as Scott's words dented his resistance. Being down on earth for so long was making him soft…he'd have to work on re-distancing himself from his emotions once he was back up in Thunderbird Five.
"How is everyone?" Gordon asked, wandering over and leaning on the back of his own empty chair as he miserably scanned the table, "I'm really sorry, guys. I had all these grand plans for dinner, and I've gone and blown everything yet again. I promise to stick to corny jokes and underwater rescues from now on."
"What on earth are you talking about?" Penelope asked, her cheeks full of undercooked noodle, "This is delicious! I was at a top Michelin restaurant just last week and the food there was nowhere near as good as this."
Gordon frowned sceptically, "Seriously? It's just noodles and cheese."
"Simple dishes are always the tastiest," Scott replied, loyally shovelling a huge forkful into his mouth, "Seriously Gordo, this is great."
"You're definitely better than you're giving yourself credit for," Kayo added, her eyes watering as the salt from the parmesan assaulted her throat.
Alan offered a thumbs up around the mess of noodles dangling out of his mouth, "Top nosh, bro! Such a shame you're already an aquanaut. The culinary world doesn't know what it's missing."
"Is there any left?" Virgil asked, a pained smile on his face as he bullied a particularly chewy morsel down his throat, "I could totally go for seconds."
"Me too, sir," Parker added, dolloping another handful of parmesan onto his plate, "Just like my mother used to make!"
Eight sets of eyes turned expectantly towards John, who was chewing a mouthful and had yet to say a word.
Gordon reached down to scoop Celery off the floor, his eyes sparkling with relief, "What do you think, bro?"
John hesitated, buying himself a few extra seconds as he reached for his glass of water. Unlike the other four, he hit a brick wall when it came to lying to anyone but himself. He certainly wasn't about to compromise his integrity for Gordon's sake. It wasn't like he hadn't already received enough validation from the others anyway.
But the way his little brother was gazing at him with those massive brown eyes…not even Colonel Casey could have resisted.
"It's great, Gordon," John offered, his tone clipped as he wound another line of noodles around his fork, "You should be proud of your efforts."
The expression of joy that cascaded over Gordon's face was about as wholesome as a homegrown carrot.
"Oh man, what a relief! I really thought I'd messed up there," Gordon muttered, dropping Celery and darting back into the kitchen, "If you liked that, wait until you taste the cheesecake I've made for dessert. Unfortunately we were out of cream cheese, so I had to use canned cheese instead. It's still cheese though, so how different can it be?"
A collective groan of quiet discontent rippled around the table as John swallowed his final mouthful before pushing his plate away in disgust.
"If that counts as cooking, then it counts as singing when I burp."
-x-
Fortunately for Gordon, and in spite of Scott and John's pleas, the evening didn't stop at the cheesecake.
Apparently, he had a post-dinner movie lined up as well.
"Titanic?" Scott's eyes widened in shock as he dumped himself on the sofa next to Virgil, "A bit deeper than what you usually go for, Gordo. No pun intended."
Gordon shrugged and began to fiddle with the holo-table, "It has water and a massive boat. Right up my alley."
"So does The Little Mermaid," Kayo quipped, earning herself a high-five from Alan.
"Now now, everyone," Penelope warned, "Titanic is a timeless classic that highlights just how important International Rescue's work is. If you boys had been around one hundred and fifty years ago, none of those poor people would have perished under those terrible circumstances."
"Wow," Gordon paused to consider their London Agent's words, "When you put it like that…maybe this is a little deep for a casual movie night."
"Oh, stop dallying and press play," Sally rasped, wrapping an arm around Alan as she settled back on the cushions, "This film showcases the bravery of people who weren't fortunate enough to have our technology. Plus, the lad who plays Jack is a real hunk!"
Gordon's eyes glittered humorously.
"Must be my long-lost twin."
-x-
"Oh, crickey," Parker exclaimed as he wiped desperately at his eyes, "I forgot 'ow sad this one gets!"
A cacophony of sniffs and wet snorts were his only replies.
Titanic was into its penultimate chapter, and seemed determined to take the feelings of the entire Tracy household down alongside its crew of startlingly talented actors.
"We could have been there," Virgil sniffed, his eyes red-rimmed, "Our equipment could have made all the difference."
Sally reached over and squeezed Virgil's knee. He may have been the biggest of her boys, but he had a heart to match.
"Just take it as a reminder that people haven't always been so lucky," Sally replied. Surprisingly, she was one of the only dry-eyed ones in the room, along with Penelope and John.
Alan was a sobbing mess at the far end of the sofa, Sherbert clutched firmly in his arms. A wad of kitchen towel had been drafted in to act as a substitute box of tissues for him.
Gordon was practically howling, his face buried in a cushion. The fact that it was the very ocean he adored that had claimed the lives of so many people seemed to be hitting a particularly raw nerve.
Parker sounded twice as bunged up as usual. A tartan handkerchief had emerged from one of his pockets and was being ruthlessly put through its paces.
Scott was busy comforting Kayo, who was sobbing quietly into his shoulder.
Virgil was gently stroking Celery's head, no doubt drawing up a mental image of what a full-scale rescue would have looked like had he and Thunderbird Two been on the scene.
Penelope was muttering words of reassurance to her distraught driver, the phrases 'they're just actors' and 'nobody died during filming' doing nothing to distract from the fact that what they were watching was a slightly fictionalised account of a very real event.
Sherbert was indifferent. He didn't like the way Alan was squeezing him, but he could smell doggy treats in the kitchen and knew from experience that the quickest and easiest way for him to become acquainted with them was to endure whatever torment was thrown his way.
Celery had picked up on Gordon's mood and was whimpering miserably as Virgil's hand shakily caressed her head.
Sally was silent. Hunky actors or not, knowing that one of her grandsons could get deployed to an emergency similar to the one they were watching at any given second was dampening her enjoyment slightly.
And then there was John, who was staring at the screen with a look of tactical thoughtfulness.
"Thunderbird Four would be powerless to intercept a collision of that size," he muttered, the light from the screen reflecting off his turquoise irises, "We'd need to reconfigure one of Thunderbird Two's pod modules to act as some kind of transporter. The same could be done with Thunderbird Three's cargo bay, although I doubt the combined capacity of both crafts would total more than a couple of hundred people at most."
Sally rolled her eyes, "Stop living in the present and take a moment to appreciate the past, kid. The Titanic may have sunk, but she was a feat of engineering brilliance when she was around. And the people who built her did so without any of the fancy equipment Brains used to make the Thunderbirds."
John grunted in disappointment at having to surrender the very task that had been keeping him occupied for most of the film, however had to admit that his grandmother had a point. The Titanic had truly been a work of art, both mechanically and aesthetically…which then got him thinking about what such a ship would look like if he were to design the blueprints.
"Long range object detection sonar, a titanium reinforced displacement hull, temperature regulating lifejackets," John muttered, tilting his head as the scenes played out before him.
Sally snorted as she watched the redhead natter away to himself, "You thinking of giving one of the greatest marine vessels in history a makeover?"
"Not necessarily," John replied, cringing when a particularly violent sob escaped from Gordon, "Heritage activists would no doubt start a campaign against me. It would have to be a privatised project, at least until completion. Selling it to the public would be a challenge, given what happened with the first one, but I think it would be doable."
"Oh?" Sally probed, one eyebrow quirked in curiosity, "And how exactly would you go about marketing a second Titanic voyage?"
John frowned as Rose tearfully let go of Jack's hand and watched him sink into the depths of aquatic oblivion.
"Well, I wouldn't market it is as a trip for couples."
-x-
It was well past midnight by the time the film ended and everyone began shuffling off to bed.
Sally had made the announcement that it was far too late for Penelope and Parker to make the long trip home, and had offered each of them the use of a guest room. Unsurprisingly, her offer had been accepted without hesitation.
"We always keep a couple of overnight bags stashed in the boot," Penelope chirped, smiling when Kayo offered her a spare set of pyjamas, "This isn't the first time we've had to stay overnight at a host's house."
Sally tutted as Gordon and Alan began arguing about something in the background, "Well, don't hesitate to ask if you need anything. I'm sure we'll be able to scrounge up spares of pretty much whatever you could ask for. Now, would you like me to show you up to your rooms, or are you happy for me to just give you directions?"
"Directions will be fine," Parker replied, his eyes lidding.
Sally clicked her tongue at the driver's stubbornness, "Okay. Parker, you're in the Lagoon Room, which is directly opposite Virgil's door. If you ask nicely, I'm sure he'll show you up. Penny, you're in the Palm Room, which is two doors down from Alan. Just follow the trail of cookie crumbs and then count two extra doors. The main bathroom has a spare shower cubicle reserved exclusively for guests, so you won't have to worry about empty shampoo bottles or clogged drains. Any problems, just bang on the door of the nearest Tracy."
Penelope and Parker inclined their heads in gratitude before following a yawning Virgil up the stairs, a treat-deprived Sherbert trotting on their heels.
One by one, the other residents of Tracy Island began to totter towards their respective bedrooms, save for John, who couldn't get to sleep without brushing his teeth.
-x-
Apparently, Scott had similar priorities.
"Hey, carrot top," Scott smiled fondly around his toothbrush as John walked into the bathroom, "Great night, huh?"
John grunted as he reached for the mouthwash, "It was alright, I guess. Could have been better."
Scott frowned, his voice muffled by his toothbrush, "Seriously? You didn't find tonight a bit of fun?"
"I don't associate half-finished meals and a room full of sobbing people with fun," the redhead replied, his fingers forming air quotes around the word 'fun'.
A small seed of anger took root in Scott's chest, "Well, at least Gordon tried to make up for his blunder. That's more than I can say about you."
John's eyes widened as he clicked his retainer into place, "And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"
Scott snorted and used his hands to ruffle the gel out of his hair, "Come off it. We all know that you're quite happy to pick faults in other people's plans, yet never bother to come up with your own. You remember what they say about people in glass houses?"
There was a moment of tense silence as John studied his brother's face in the mirror. He could tell that Scott was trying to goad him into something, but the something was refusing to be identified.
Unfortunately, his redheaded temper got the better of him yet again. Part of him felt that gravity was to blame. He never struggled with his temper up in Thunderbird Five. Then again, Thunderbird Five lacked the presence of four insufferable brothers, an over-hairy mutt, a sassy Head of Security, and an overbearing grandmother.
"Is that a challenge?" John asked, his tone slightly lower than usual.
Scott shrugged and reached for his pyjama shirt, "Depends. Do you think you can do better than what Gordon did tonight?"
A quiet laugh echoed around the bathroom, "I don't think so. I know so."
"Fine then," Scott smiled as he made for the door, "Ask Penelope and Parker if they'd like to stay for dinner again tomorrow night, and bring that claim to life."
John squared his shoulders before seizing the hand Scott was offering.
"You're on."